Almost a year since I posted a journal entry, I think. And TEN YEARS since I joined dA. Dude.
That's a long time.
When I joined dA, my life was falling apart. Literally. dA actually played a huge part in my recovery. I was making a LOT of art back then, all angsty and purgative. And I needed a place to put it. dA wasn't just a place to dump my doodles. It was a place I could find creative catharsis. A selective and enthusiastic audience. And a few very dear friends, most with whom I've lost touch. A couple I've been able to keep tabs on, like JayFosgitt
I still make art, and I still upload it here when I find the time. Here and my dawgart
. My photography account ThroughEl0rasEyes
has fallen into disuse. Sometimes I think about resurrecting it. At least it could be a place I could file my sunset project...
deviantART just isn't as necessary in my life as it used to be. Easier forms of social media came into use. And when you're in actual art school, with IRL people sitting in an IRL environment with IRL professors to tear apart your work, you don't need the input of the online community as much.
Anyway, this isn't a goodbye or anything. I was just thinking about old times, when I used to carry on lengthy convos with people in comment threads, and we had inside jokes and I was up at all hours talking to people in London and Thailand. Because of the whole life thing. And I needed connection. With people who couldn't see what a big hot mess I was IRL. Most of those connections have moved on I think, to other things too, which is good. Even though I think it would be nice to say, "Hello. How are you?" and hear back that they were good, good, everything is good. Because it's good, to move on to new things.
I'm sitting here in my studio in Arizona at 1:28am writing this on my Mac and thinking about the commissions I have to start and the personal paintings I want to do, and the new novel that's been taking shape in my brain and it's COLD here tonight, at least, my hands are cold, and what's the point of all this looking backward anyway? I suppose it's just to take stock, which people usually do at the end of the year, but I always do it in February. 2015 was HARD. I mean, really hard. Not as hard as the time I opened a dA account, but in the new definition of my life where I don't totally fall apart and end up in the loony bin, it was pretty hard. I think the battle against mental illness is always going to be difficult. But here I am in my studio with a Brené Brown book at my elbow and a bucket of paintbrushes ready to use and a Star Wars clock next to a Bouguereau (Song of the Angels) next to Supernatural convention tickets for June (my teen daughters are BESIDE themselves) next to a painting I just finished yesterday and things are okay. I mean, better than okay. They're good. Most of that probably has to do with my spouse. It still feels so new. But we've been married for seven years this week. I think the newness not wearing off -- that's a good sign.
Things aren't perfect. But they're good. I've come a long way since the life-wreck of 2006-2008. I'm still recovering, which is okay. I think it will take a long time. I'm still learning to love myself. I don't think I ever knew how to do that before. Still learning to find balance. Figuring out what I really believe in. I think right now, I really want to believe in me. In us. That's a good start. And maybe in the next ten years, I'll have the rest of it figured out. Or not. That's okay too. In the meantime, I'm remembering to breathe. (I didn't used to do that.)
This journal entry is weird. And long. And no one reads these anyway. So I suppose I'm just writing it for myself.
Ninjacookies to my old friends who have floated away to other lives on other planets. I miss you. I love you.