90 Days of Unfiltered.
I took a year off from creative writing and sort of journaling. I needed a break and to focus on a new job and real life. Well the new job isn’t so “new” anymore and it’s time to regain focus outside of my actual job.
I have challenged myself to write and post on my blog all of my journaling unfiltered for the next 90 days. It is a bit much to be able to post daily, so I will post a week’s worth of entries on Saturday. This will give me time to check spelling and some grammar. Hope you enjoy the ride. 🙂
March 7, 2020– Day 3
This was supposed to be an “us” trip…. Derby and a little bit of Art.
I guess I know that was going to be a stretch….why do I fall for the men that don’t follow my interest. I actively take part in the things that he wants to do and he says that he will support my things. Yet I sit here writing while he is sleeping. I got ready, did my hair and my make-up all to know that I wasn’t really going to get to do the art thing. It’s boring to most people I suppose and yet I find it fascinating
Oh well, I sit here like I do at home watching reruns of Criminal minds and watching him sleep. Maybe it’s me… maybe “they” sleep so much because I am not exciting enough.
He doesn’t really ever seem interested in the things that I want to do. We always end up “napping” and staying in when, I suggest things. Idk dumb right
Maybe that’s not true.. maybe I am just overthinking because it’s happened two weeks in a row for sure or maybe I am just starting to see it.
Idk…. He never takes pictures of me
I wonder why…. maybe because he doesn’t want the world to see us or he doesn’t want to remember the day with me. The t-shirt is the memory not the grumpy photo I deleted. Right, because what I wanted doesn’t really matter. As long as my man is happy…. Omg that is the biggest line of fucking bullshit that I have ever written and I don’t actually believe that.
Why doesn’t anyone besides me care if I am happy?
What if we are doing something I want to do?
Because I don’t stand up for myself becuase when I have pushed the art thing before it turns in to a grump fest than no one has any fucking fun and thats not waht I want either.
I wanted this weekend to be fun. I wanted to masterbated the passenger seat while riding on the highway. I wanted it to be hot.
I wanted us to go to the gallery and make stories about the pieces. Since this morning, I have been on the verge of tears this morning, but deleted the pictures and will take photos of everything else besides if I post about us another girl might come out of the closet, right.
I mean the last fun road trip was incredibly fun but by Monday at 7:30 am my world was shattered. I know that is what I am afraid of.
What the actual FUCK…. ugh and grrrrrrrr
Maybe when I am done meeting this word count I will go for a walk. A Note for later: I wanted to write about how much I love touching him but I am fucking annoyed right now. I am going to for a walk or just go sit in the courtyard. Idk I don’t want to sit in this fucking room. I wanted to go see ART what the fuck ever.
March 8, 2020 – Day 4
I still see myself as Mrs. X someday. I woke up with that feeling, that’s what I want. I decided that today I will be happy. Why, because I can be. I have this man that loves me, communicates (usually) with me and comprehends the things that I say. That is important, it’s about being heard.
I had not questioned how he felt about me until last week and after the more recent conversation where I truly feel heard. We are on the page and we can move forward, and he will still be here if I fall back for a second. I can let go of the fears and when I can’t, I know that I can talk to him about that.
That is HUGE!!!
I re-read some of my art blog posts, things that should really go on this blog and someday I will transfer them over.
Damn, I am good and things that I wrote years ago, still apply. Things like “Love is Magic and that’s what I want” or “the open letter to the man that wants my heart.” My boyfriend appears to that man. I read those posts to him this morning on our drive back. I told him he has made those things come true. That those feelings are how I feel about him. It reminded me that before it was all so easy and that it will be again.
It’s a grown up type of love when you can communicate your fears in a rational manner. I have not had that before. It’s been blow ups and heated arguments that come to a head then get buried. The hidden contempt that destroys a relationship. I don’t feel that way here. Here is where we can tell our secrets, talk it out and trust the word. A place to have faith that it will all work out and to still feel safe in his arms. That’s what I have always wanted and I am by far not ready to give up on that.
So what is the first step:
I read this great article: see link below.
There were two great things that I came way with the first is
Define Monogamy and the 2nd was Not saying “Once a cheater always a cheater”
I think that this is difficult in the modern world. Grandma didn’t have Facebook, instagram, twitter, and you porn.
I mean for fuck’s sake, there are so many ways to connect with people. Monogamy is going to differ for everyone. It can no longer be defined as one size fits all.
As much as my grandparents loved each other I certainly don’t want her world. I would not have gotten very far during her time. I am lucky enough to live in a world where women are almost as equal as men. Eventually the world will be reminded how powerful women really are and we will rule the world again. (Insert laughter)
But for now we should just talk about this Monogamy thing
What is it for you?
It is no secret that I love sexual energy and this taboo topic.
March 9th, 2020 Day 5
I’m on a roll. I need to go back and edit the last two days. However, I have decided that this is not to post daily. The goal is to write not to post. I will need to have time to edit a little before sharing. I will work on posting every 5 to 7 days.
This whole thing is to get back to my main goal of finishing my book. I spent so much time working on the work manual. I let go of the creative moments of life.so this something that I will try. The key here is to make sure I dedicate time to the art or wiring.
This is to work out the writing kinks.
To make is a habit again
To fucking brain dump. There are lots of things that roll over and over in my throughout the day. A friend asked me if I thought the boyfriend was my soul mate. I suppose he could be, I didn’t start this relationship thinking he was the one or that this was going to be forever.
It started because we were friends. We had common interests. Similar mindsets.
I didn’t write about him or wonder about the what if’s. I was present in the moment. Plus, I needed to not write. I was stuck in that world too. So I have taken a long break from my creative non-fiction. I mean turning a real life love affair into a novel was a little intense. I needed a time out from the fact and fiction. I focused on my real world job and let go.
I let go of the creative connection because it had let it be so wrapped in my love affair. I let go of my muse and I am afraid to let the bf be the muse. I had connected to my art and sexual energy which produced so fucking amazing shit. That I am not sure if I am capable of letting those connections get so wrapped up in each other again. .
Whatever that is all bullshit….
I am holding three roles:
The mother and the worker fit in with what the world wants me to be right? The mom/employee that gets up, makes breakfast, packs school lunches, and off to work goes mom, who still has enough energy to come home to make dinner, wash dishes, laundry, homework, taxi and spend time crafting with kids.
I have zero energy for the expectations that we put on women. Yet, I let those same expectations hold me back as an artist.
I am fucking tried.
My kids for the most wake themselves up. We call this a team effort. B is the hardest to wake and R is the best morning person.
I go through spurts of waking up and not waking up.
I want to be an artist. I want to take photos for myself fucking than paint them is neon fucking colors. I want to tell other women why it is so important to touch themselves. I want to define a new way of thinking about human connection.
That is sex can be a marketing campaign, why can we teach healthy ways to express it. Why is it such a taboo topic. That sex has a power within it and that once you release the energy you can feel it from your head to your god damn toes!
The combination of soul and body both release the confines of reality. I think during sex is the only moment in the world that my mind is focused pleasure.
Think about that for a minute. PLEASURE
How often do you stop or do something in life simply because it feels good?
March 10, 2020 – Day 6
Perhaps I am sex obsessed.
Overly focused on it.
I am not hundred percent sure. I don’t think that I have an unhealthy relationship with sex, but I wish I could change the tone of the topic.
I had this thought about the way he touches me. He penetrated me deeply and with his left hand, he stroked and strummed my clit and labia sending vibrations throughout my body as if I were a guitar and he was playing a sweet melody. My god do I feel secure with this man. I enjoyed this sensation for a while. Part of me wishes we would have gotten a picture because this a feeling worth expression and I want to paint it on a large canvas. I hadn’t connected him to my art in part because I have not been contacted to my art. I had been so focused on getting my real-world job in order, it was all spent the last year focusing on. Even when I tried to disconnect from it and be creative with my words, they weren’t right, and my art was even worse. There were a few moments that I was able to let go and enter my wonderful rabbit whole yet it was enough to keep me there. They weren’t filled with hours and hours of straight-up lost in the world of self-expression. They were a few hours sporadically placed over the last 12 months and just enough to get me in the rabbit whole, but not enough to get out of the real world completely.
Not enough to allow my thoughts to come together to create a clear painting or writing. It was literally a mixture of all my fears, sadness, happiness, layered with real life responsibilities.
There is this local art show coming up and I want to participate or at least attempt to participate and get back to the things that I love doing so much. You know the things that are supposed to make the real world job worth it.
So I am looking through my artwork and the ringing sound of T, from the local art center, telling me that they will not give me a show because of my content. This statement from him dictated a series of work for several years.
Oh, you don’t like nudes and same sex touching”
What the fuck? Isn’t that a huge part of art – Self-expression
I mean this isn’t the century where we should be afraid of the human body, especially something as simple as two men kissing. BTW, these pieces he was talking about are mild in comparison of my current work. I painted an entire series of people’s faces in hopes I would get the approval of the local art world.
I have probably written this before statement before:
While I was taking a graduate course, a professor told my sketches were more interesting and told a better story than my portraits. He was not wrong. I had turned off what I wanted; did what was acceptable and not what my heart wanted.
March 11, 2020 – Day 7
So, what does it mean when you follow others expectations? Well, I have created some amazing portrait art and several of those pieces I cherish. The underlying theme behind them was that they were to please others. They didn’t invoke enough questions or they simply lack a deeper connection for me.
Once I started embracing my sketches and combining mini sketches onto a large canvas to create one piece the work changed.
In my suppression series I censored myself…. Dumb…. But I did it with the thought that it would make me more successful. The reality is I didn’t even really try to actually show them. I showed the work that had been dismissed by the local art scene to other areas of the country and showed proudly. Fast forward to present day and my new work is full of color, self-expression, and sex.
The canvas is my safe zone where I am the only judge. Ha! I am the worst judge of my own work, over critical.
The local Center has a local perspective show and yes, I want to enter. However, I have no idea what pieces to pick. The ones I strongly want to show have nudity in them and are not deemed as family friendly art.
I fucking hate that statement “Family Friendly”
My family sees my art all the time. My hope is that it teaches them that self-expression and exploration is important. I want to them to have health views of what beauty and emotion look like even if both are fucking mess sometimes.
I have two of the three pieces picked out. I am struggling with the last one. It’s called “I Am”
Again, it’s mild compared to my piece called “Watch me watch you” which is about a couple sexting back and forth with pictures to enhance the conversation. These are straight up masturbating. Not a piece I would pick for this show. Partly, because it doesn’t fit with the other paintings I have chosen.
I can play it complete safe and submit my double faced, but it’s not the one I want to show.
“I am” goes better with the other two paintings and it’s powerful. It’s not a wide open gapping vaginia or one that is getting self pleasured. It’s simply the toppish view with a little bit labia showing. This is about all the things we are as women. Embracing the parts that we are taught to fear. That we are not defined by one thing.
I am not defined solely by the fact that I have a vaginia or by motherhood.
I am all the things that make me female and some many other things. Shouldn’t that be the message that others want girls to have… no because the local art has too much old mindset and money. The “I don’t like the center’s artwork choices so I will not donate” mentality needs to stop.
The problem is, art subjective, so if the money doesn’t approve, it will never get shown and the cycle of shame will continue.
March 12, 2020 Day 8
Today I don’t like my outfit. Why is it as a woman that we define our self worth by what we wear. I mean men can wear sweatpants for days and in public while not giving two shits. Anyway, I think it’s khaki pants. I tried several pant styles and I think of them as fucking mom pants. The ones I wore today were the worst.
They are higher waisted than most of my other pants and since 90% of the time I feel like my stomach is bigger than my ass and these pants seem to accentuate this feature. The right out can make or break your confidence. This didn’t break me, but I felt frumpy and out of sorts all day.
Then when you add in my bad hair week… Ugh, I wanted bangs so bad, but I am not the girl that can run to the salon and get a trip every three weeks. So I am in the process of growing out the bangs. Hey, I got them after lengthy deliberation and in a desperate need to make an urgent change and boom bangs.
Not really a hair mistake, but more about who is this girl. In my almost 40 years I have never had bangs so this was a new thing that looked super cute but didn’t really look like me. I guess a few weeks of ugly hair I can deal with and I will not cave and re-cut the bangs.
It’s too much maintenance!
I am letting the Art work simmer. Work felt like I was pulled in a million directions. I got a few things on my checklist done, yet I think I could have gotten more done. I need to re-design work day… Divide it between the two roles I carry during the busy season. This way I can find a better balance while adding in the things that are important to me in my daily life.
I am so blessed to have a real world career. It’s one that I wouldn’t have thought about and the universe handed it to me at a low rate of pay at a time I was desperate for work.
When I got the call from the temp agency about my resume on Career Builders, I was flattered but not excited. I thought I didn’t want to be a receptionist for 10.00 and hour.
How the fuck can I feed my three kids on that?
I made way more at the bar. But that lifestyle would no longer work in my current situation.. It was a job that I quickly excelled at and learned a lot. To the point that I would take home informational materials and printed articles on how to do my job, and details of the industry.
I slept with it.
9 months to the day, I started looking for more money and a more stable employer, but was confident that I had made enough of a name for myself to move on.
Enter company number 2 and I continued to hone my skills and knowledge of what I do. I love it. I get to use my English degree and no, it’s not creative writing, but its writing, research, and development all things I love.
I love company number 2 and the relationships that I build. I learned even more and hit the professional wall there.
March 13 2020 Day 9
I left yesterday talking about my real world job. I would like just state that I smashed one of my goals. This was huge; it really made all the sacrifices for the whole year worth it. Although that is really not what I wanted to write about today. I did want to share that I hit all my annual goals since I started with the company 12 months ago.
What I wanted to write about today is this painting series that I have fantasized about.
I want to paint the colors of couples sexual energy. I want to sit in a room with a couple and take pictures of their sexual intimacy. Then later I want to be able to paint the images that I take. The ones that stand out. I want to read the energy of the couples. Preferably the couples would have different colored energies, but that may not always be the case. I want to be able to paint their skin, their touch, I want to see if I can capture this energy.
As a society we tend to be stuck in this sex is okay behind close doors yet live in an endless world of sexualized images and overtones.
That any image of an exposed nipple, Libia, and ball sack are all pornagraphic. That is simply not true. Just try something for me…..
Close your eyes…
Okay, wait first read below.
Picture yourself naked laying next to someone else who is naked. You both are completely comfortable in your skin. You both embrace each other’s imperfections. This is not someone new in our life this connection that is calm, erotic, passionate, and trusting. Your head is resting on his chest. His eyes are closed and he is slowing his breathing. His left hand rests gently on your hip.
Now close your eyes and picture it.
I want to paint it all…. Have you ever seen the color of energy? It’s powerful and when two people energy connects, it doesn’t have to be porngraghic. It can be shown as sensual and beautiful. Its collection of work I am going to produce, all in time.
So why not just do it. Well, it’s not an easy conversation to strike up with couples or real people in general. The other is the roles I have to play. I am public sort of, in my well respected real world job and I am a mom. It’s not that I am not open with my kids and we have all kinds of conversation, but explaining to them the difference between porn and fine erotic art might be more than their teenage brains can handle.