Last summer, everywhere I went, I saw blue dragonflies. It felt like I was being watched over by them. I was recovering from my divorce. When my relationship with my husband began, I kept seeing all these signs in nature that it was meant to be — a close encounter with a heron, an eagle sighting. When the relationship ended, I felt like I couldn’t really trust signs, or my ability to read them.
Looking back over last summer’s journal and the scant drawings I did there, I found a few unfinished sketches of dragonflies. I remembered that conflict between wanting to believe in a magical presence, and just seeing what’s around me as what it is and no more. Dragonflies are summer creatures. Of course I’ll see them , nothing magic about that.
And yet, they are so beautiful. Delicate but voracious. They see better than almost any other creature. I know this coming summer, I’ll see them again, and my heart will be delighted.
A relationship is magic, then it fades. A dragonfly flits into my life for a few summer weeks. Whatever it means, may I always allow myself to see the magic.
I’m drawing daily to help manage depression, long-term disability, and life in general. If you’d like to see the beginning of this project, you can see it here. You can also follow me through WordPress or on Facebook.
On the other hand, Sunday night, I dreamed a group of butterflies (which I just looked up the term for — a kaleidoscope of butterflies) came flying towards me. They were all transparent, I could only see their outlines, except for the one in front a black butterfly with fragments of color on its wings. I led an artwork shop for kids yesterday, and used prang watercolors to paint the butterfly on my mind. The black in the set is actually a very dark green and very nice, though overall the colors were weak and hard to layer. When I came home, I used my current favorite background color, Daniel Smith’s Shadow Violet to finish it. I may make a formal painting of this later as I think of ways to present the transparency of the kaleidoscope and the brightness of the leader of the group.
I’m drawing daily to help manage depression, long-term disability, and life in general. If you’d like to see the beginning of this project, you can see it here. You can also follow me through WordPress or on Facebook.
I went to a meeting yesterday morning, so I had time to doodle, but I didn’t have time to do a “formal” drawing.
Better living through bad drawing
It was a community meeting for Bridge Meadows, so I got to draw my 11 year old friend Noah’s hand. I met him when he was six and now he’s got bigger hands and feet than I do, though I’m still taller.
I had a little set-back in my recovery. I thought I was getting better at this self care, good boundaries thing. But Friday, I let someone walk all over me. I put on my cooperative facade and did as was asked rather than say I didn’t want to. This person has done me favors in the past, and I feel squeamish about saying no to him. And he knows it. He takes advantage of it. I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. I’d talked to my counselor about him and came up with a strategy for protecting my boundaries. When confronted, though, I decided it was easier to cooperate than to get into a conflict. I was tired and felt like it would be an easy favor, but it got more and more complicated. Still, I went docilely along.
He didn’t really harm me in any way, but I don’t like interacting with him. I felt like such a wimp afterwards. I’m 56 years old. How am I ever going to be a strong independent woman if I keep letting people bully me.
I had a lovely dinner with a girlfriend and that helped keep me from despair, though I didn’t talk to her about it.
It nagged at me all yesterday and I realized I was feeling bad about feeling bad
At yesterday’s meeting, we talked about empowering children. After living in this community for 5 years, I’ve learned that dis-empowerment is a problem that spans the generations. It’s not just me.
I attempted a drawing about girls and power.
As I worked on it, I got frustrated with my inability to make a smooth wash, a good skin tone, or good contrasts. I was frustrated by wonky lines and lack of proportion.
Part of me though was answering the criticism — get better paper, it doesn’t have to be perfect.
Last week, when I was frustrated by a drawing I threw it away. This week, I decided to finish and post it for what it is. I realized I’m feeling a lot of empathy for my dis-empowered neighbors, but not for myself. The girl is like us all, growth is all around us, but we don’t gives ourselves credit for the growth we experience. We don’t forgive ourselves easily. Depression loves it when that happens.
Everyone will be weak from time to time. Maybe next time I’ll have my guard up better when I’m around this person. Maybe I won’t answer the door when he knocks.
Maybe I’ll get a better watercolor journal, too. And try not to think that really good paper is too precious for me to make mistakes on.
That’s what paper is for anyway — creativity is all about working with your mistakes. In the mistakes of one work are the seeds of another. Next time, I’ll do better.
I’m drawing daily to help manage depression, long-term disability, and life in general. If you’d like to see the beginning of this project, you can see it here. You can also follow me through WordPress or on Facebook.
I’m drawing daily to help manage depression, long-term disability, and life in general. If you’d like to see the beginning of this project, you can see it here. You can also follow me through WordPress or on Facebook.
