I am considering taking a nap. Putting my faith in the fact that this is another pesky case of incorrect demographics. Fortunately, it is a short lasting bug, im really only expecting another 8 hours of active discomfort and napping. On the grass. Under the branches pf a tree. Trust the crowds disinterest and my vendor partners to be on the watch if something odd happens. So... I... just maybe.... will.... ?!?????!?.... will????.... WILL take a quick siesta.
And I sort of did. I alerted my neighbor, then had one- my sole- quick sale. I did close my eyes for 11 minutes, but felt bad and so couldnt relax. Maybe if I snooze on my small side table that'd feel better as my ryes are still feeling leaden. But aha!! I have sunglassrs... 😎
And thats just not good enough. The grass won again and I did have a 20 min cat nap. Meow.
Coffee was the next need and a jaunt to the local coffee shop which was followed by another sale. Yippee! Walking back I started thinking about what I am doing and where how I am trying to position myself and why this market is not good for me. It is so easy to take the pessimistic, negative, derogative explanation of rural vs urban, and while there is a smidgen of truth in that statement it also begins to feel like a cop out or an overused excuse.
What is the reality? And the reality is that my work is a bit in the middle, it is in that awkward teenage phase were perhaps there is an acne outbreak or the voice is squeaking. My work looks hot, its too refined for this type of fair, but not quite finessed enough to blow the tops off of fine art/art fairs. For going on 8 months sober and really making all of this work after a time when I couldnt hold a pencil without my hand shaking the fact that my gut and feedback is that I am right at the edge of excellence is fantastic! I am so proud of that fact. And that I know I can do it. That is something. I can do this. Forget Nike, I am Christina, the goddess of herself!!!
i am so hesitant to write things like "im awesome and kicking ass my work is going to be, not be, IS, the next best thing to sliced bread." I am working to be and remain humble but am proud of my accomplishments and not dont want to count the chickens til they hatch. As I say my work is almost there that is true. But getting there will involve trying on a lot of prom dresses, undertaking a fad diet or two, considering lipo, and expanding my lexicon of curses. I will fight, my work will fight, and in time there will be the new. Möbius will have gone through a myriad of personalities and decided it is this.
Enough clay/art stuff for a while. I have been feeling so much of the vus of late. And thanks to google can copy and paste descriptions thanks to wikipedia:
Presque vu is the tip of the tongue phenomenon, in which you know that you know something, but can't quite recall it. Jamais vu is the feeling that something familiar appears strange and unfamiliar. It is the opposite of déjà vu, which is the feeling of familiarity that occurs in an unfamiliar/new context.
Déjà vu (
Déjà vu is a feeling of familiarity, and déjà vécu (the feeling of having "already lived through" something)
is a feeling of recollection.
Right now I feel like I have lived many different lives in my short 34 years. I am seeing things and remembering things and its almost real and almost a dream. It is like I am a living embodiment of what my work is about. And perhaps that is exactly it. What better way for an alcoholic narcissistic artist to go through life than making work about hersel? And I said I would shut up about art?
Jeez Louise, it is something. Walking theough this fair I felt so much like I was in the midwest as a young girl, parts of the twin cities, Northfield, NCECA in Louisville. All of these places I have been to and done things in shaking and poured iver ice in a "get a grip" cup. GET A GRIP!!! (Me shouting to myself... but then a studio mate from cranbrook posted it should be Get a Grip™. And now I am thinking 'bout that.... hahaha, lunacy indeed.
I am still feeling the triple threat of vu's and wonder what or why or if that means anything. I do know some of it is that I will wake up and have been like Rip Van Winkle and back wetr I was a few years or even a year ago. That my life isnt my life. I have just been an imposter in the body I am now residing in. My mom yesterday looked at me like she hadnt really or was just starting to see me and said "you are funny." But I dont know why? I tried to think what I said or did that was funny and have not a darn clue. My boyfriend has started telling me that I am such a "goober," which I interpret as a funny lady. But whaaaaat? Huh? It confuses me so much. And maybe that is it: the cause of the vu's. I am just working to be me. To not be fake, or a pretense, or smarter, more creatice, a superlative. Ive decided to say fuck it, when I try to fit what I think others want me to be I end up a resent filled addict spewing vitriol and self hatred over the world. So, I am learning to live with my contradictions. And laugh and myself and the world as I pass through it. Of course being early recovery me I must make all of this seem like a walk in the park and it is and it isn't. I am trying to make the bew lifestyle changes, good habits as easy to maintain as the bad ones. I have been giving away my coping and hiding secrets to make it as difficult as possible to revert to alcohol using me as I know there will be times ahead when life sucks and it would be ao easy to turn off.
So, a lovely fair with few sales, time to nap outside in the grass, take a jaunt to the coffee shop, and reflect on all that I have wanted to share, but have not had time to as I have been BUSY!!! Tonight there is a rolly derby match, a good friend is in cville, I have good soup I made and steak to throw on the grill. So life gods, in the words of Dale Cooper "you know, this is - excuse me - a damn fine cup of coffee."