Well, it happened. Today I dropped my first class of the season. And what do you think it was? None other than Photoshop. My first and last class for Photoshop was last Thursday morning. Sad. Very sad. But more than sad, I’m happy because it means that I’m not going down a short and fast path of ruin. I stepped on it, felt the ground shake and quickly, but not too quickly, but fast enough to not get a permanent “W” (for Withdraw…(or how I fear it’s looked at by administration in big colleges, “Took the W because the F was coming?”). So…still breathing, I got out of there. I only went to the first class and the instructor is the same teacher who taught my Adobe Illustrator class and I actually signed up for his classes on purpose because I’d heard such good things about him.
It turns out he is very good, but good is so vague and relative. I don’t have a high aptitude toward graphic design and am only really taking Illustrator and Photoshop because they are prerequisites for a couple of other design classes I am required to take for my art degree. This teacher is first-rate if you’re into Graphic Design and that’s your major…but for the girl (woman, uhem) who likes to get her hands-up-to-her-armpits-dirty in clay, taking his class was about enough to make my head spin off my neck. It’s purely miracle and kind-heartedness on my teachers part that I was blessed out of Adobe Illustrator alive and with an “A” for effort.
So anyway, his class wasn’t the “Photoshop for Artists” I was looking for. Today I saved myself by clicking on a sweet, sweet drop button that, praise the Lord, still read “0% with no W on transcript.” when pressed. My husband asked if we’ll get a refund. I said “No, I only get to not self-destruct. Want me to reinstate my class?” Smiley face. (He asked me through a text message.)
I’m still living.
In fact, I’m so alive after I officially dropped Photoshop I stepped outside and realized an abundance of wildly growing flowers in a little corral next to our garage (which unfortunately has no animals in it because we actually live in the suburbs and only can pretend we are farmers.)
But still, when we bought this house I wouldn’t let the guys tear it down. I love my corral, and talking about it reminds me I need to get my bull’s head tied up out there again for lasso practice! It had to be taken down when the enclosure was painted. I’m digressing. (At least I’m not regressing. Digressing doesn’t seem so bad next to that possibility!)
All of this is to say…I was inspired to take some photos! 🙂
I’m pretty sure my neighbors were curious what I was doing bouncing around the corral for no clearly apparent reason today, but you know what they say about keeping good neighbors. Well, some say the best neighbors are fences, but we don’t really have fencing, so the next best thing is to feign insanity within their line-of-sight. (No doubt, you’re convinced, right!? )
My question today is this: When do you let a thing go?
I just want to know, is there ever a time to give up? And is giving up -giving up?… or really just letting go? And if it is then the question is less when than “how?”
I didn’t come to this canvas wanting anything but to paint. It turned into a flower. But I didn’t think it was good enough so I kept painting. I wanted more. Suddenly I became attached. I was so happy to see a flower on my canvas when I didn’t even try to get it there. I was ecstatic because for so long I’ve talked about “people who paint flowers” and how I definitely was not one of those people.
There was a part of mE that has always wanted to paint a flower.
But no flowers would ever come.
It made me sad.
Flowers weren’t for me.
But I like flowers. Flowers are special. They make me happy.
“Flowers come from happy people.” (That’s what I thought.)
But I was not a flower person.
Then this flower came to me. And I wanted it so much, even if it looked like a 5-year-old drew it. It was still my flower and I loved it.
But then…the paint-parent came out and said it wasn’t right enough, there wasn’t enough “pop,” it wasn’t bright…it wasn’t right. The background had no foreground and blah blah blah, BLAH! It didn’t look like other people’s flowers at all. It didn’t even necessarily look alive! So hopeless.
So I tried to help it out. I tried to be better. I tried to make it work…but then….
But it hadn’t signed a DNR.
So I kept at it.
The following photos are the journey my flower has gone through and it’s still not done. In fact, as soon as I get done writing this post I am getting right back to work on it. I wanted to come here first though and talk about what’s been happening and mark it as part of my journey. I don’t know where it’s going to go….
Do I stop? Do I give up? Today I’m working out how to let go.
I think. I mean, I guess.
There’s just so much I don’t know right now.
(I have chosen to not digitally enhance any of these…they just have to sit there and deal with it, boo.)
Where I think I should have stopped and maybe just added some black and translucent layer(s) of color. It was going to be titled…”The First Flower of Recovery”
close – up
Where it all started to go wrong…
and even more wrong, haha
a part of the paint I liked….that didn’t last, lol
trying to get my orange to cooperate…We still aren’t talking
The “Fuck It” stage…sorry, but it’s true
The “I feel this is an exceptional depiction of BOREDOM” phase
Up now…the “Trying too hard” period
but at least I felt there were some successful elements…and it was good time to experiement
When I thought maybe the carnage was over…It wasn’t! 🙂
stuff I liked, but it wasn’t likable enough…and I was irritated I could only get 5″ of things to go my way
And this is when I came to you with my questioning….How to give up…I mean, let go…yeah, Let Go…that’s so much more therapeutic, lol
Ok, so I know earlier I said I still wasn’t done, but I lied. I kept painting before finishing this post because all the pictures were taking too long to upload.
And this is where we (me and this damn flower!) stand now. I don’t really love it. I feel like it’s so wrong and not doing anything for me. But I’m learning…just not at the pace I would like to and I think I still just want my first flower back because it was the truest and I should have just chilled out and sat with it a while before destroying it in my haste to make it something it never could be anyway…perfect.
I love you not, flower!!!!
Sometimes I really hate my issues. Stupid damn fucking issues, AURURRURURURHHHGGGGG!!!!
I’ve been savoring my latest set of Instagrams. It seems like so much has happened in just a couple of days, even though when I look around not much has changed.
Except for my mantle. Yes, my mantle is looking different these days!
My mantle now holds a vase with Roses of Different Color!
And, I think you can be assured it’s not because I am wearing rose-colored glasses, either.
Just take a look at these beauts!
Yesterday my husband ran an errand to the store and came back with these!!!
No arguing, no disharmony, not even a “discussion” precluded these babies! No ladies (and gents) my husband bought me flowers because….because HE DID. And he gets full credit.
Now, I didn’t used to think I was the type of girl to get all giddy over flowers, but turns out…I kinda am. Especially when they’re tie dye, and especially when I know it means my husband is listening and paying attention. And something grabbed his attention at the store when I wasn’t with him and he thought of me!
So I’m a little sweet on these flowers, and sweet on him.
Self-Portrait with Roses : )
So not too much commentary today, although it feels like there’s a ton to share. It will have to wait because I am stopping to smell my tie-die roses! And I invite you to sit-a-spell and smell them with me!