I got back from Jazzercise and went to pick up the paper and had a nice chat with my neighbor across the street. I started telling her about the cville art posse and she became so excited about it. She looked at me with awe and a bit of amazement and said "your life is really starting now." She said it with such whole hearted joy amd wonder that I could not take any form of umbrage, but look a bit taken a back and say "yeah, i guess it is."

I lead in with this as its an continuation of last nights bittersweet post. I decided to skip a family vacation in Minnesota. Minnesota is gorgeous, the midwest feels like home, is home, and the house is on a lake, my brother and sister in law are there and a favorite aunt. The aunt who taught me to throw and has been an art beacon in my life. And I am choosing to stay in Virginia and work. And I know I am making the right decision for me at this time.

It seems so messed up yo think thay a week vacation with the family i love in a part of the country i love would throw me off my game. But I fear it would.

For so long I have been so terrified of being me and being individual. I get a little terrified now when I try to find a logic for my past and worry thay I am trying to paint it the color and emotional hue i want it to be interpeted in at this moment for some manipulative endgoal. Meaning thay I have a feeling next spring my home group will ask me to be a speaker and tell my story with alcohol and i really do not want to so it for this reason. But if i am asked I will, i will just be careful.

So anyway, rewind a bit:

For so long I have been so terrified of being me and being individual. After this past year and anxiety medication and a support system I have been trying to do that. Be me. Be individual. And try to be very zen and middle way. I am well aware that everything I am currently doing could fail or blow up, litetallg in clays case. And that is ok. If it blows up it blows up. If my art posse has a duel at the sketchbook saloon, oh well. I am not a creator, but a facilitator. Put these things in this environment and see how they respond. Like hatching an egg. Incubator. None of this is mine, but it does bear the mark of my hand.

And I am going to step back for a minite and do what you all, my dear readers, are thinking. I ak calling bull shit on myself.

What I have written is the ideal I am hoping to achieve as I go forward. Of course my ego still gets inflated when I hear all od this praise. But as I have also been learning about how right newton reallh is -equal and opposite- i am working as hard as I possibly can to keep myself in the middle and keep my ego drom becoming a hot air balloon and staying silly arty creative awkward anxiety ridden me.


And this is why it is so bittersweet. I am keeping my ego held down a bit and am holding myself together but it is work. And i have felt stretched. And worried. And excited. And terrified. And frustrated. And delighted. And fearful. Of me. Of becoming what i dont recognize. Of where I was last year. Of my tingles gettint worse again. Of disappointment. Of everything, really. But I am having such a full life of lewrning how to hop around and on top of all of these different thintjs and emotions so thay I am beginning to create ky own musical score with at tkmes a heavy bass line or trill of picollo interjecting.  

So my dear sister in law who is most likely reading this, I wish I could be there too. It looks gorgeous and idyllic. And oh so wonderful. My hope is that by staying here and continuong this quest I am on means that there will be many more vacations I will be there. And fully there, letting myself fill whatever nooks and crannies I need to and breathe deeply and walk this middle path I am beginning to adore. 

So happy monday everyone! I hope this week turns out to be a joyous one with an unexpected but appreciated adventure or two 😄

Christina Osheim