Still stumbly. MRI, results go to my doctor on Monday. Tiresome.

Icons

Still recovering from the concussion, my mind is working better than verbal skills would indicate, however extreme emotionality isn't helpful either.....at any rate, I'll make an attempt at writing intelligently. :-/

I've always tended, in art, to draw one particular thing over and over and over again. Whatever thing I draw, it isn't the object I'm drawing so much as an idea, or perhaps an ideal. It's more of a symbol than a subject. These drawings tend to be very....boring to the outsider's eye, because they will all look pretty much alike. Usually (but not always, as you will see), the iconic image is of an animal, and usually it is depicted from the side, or in the same pose (although very minor variations do occur), and usually the same color or color pattern as well, always pointing the same direction if in a side/profile pose. The only other work I've seen that is of this nature is done by George Rodrigue, who paints his blue dogs, over and over and over again in pretty much the same pose. I honestly have no idea why I do this. I can't explain it. I can only say that the subject matter/iconic image isn't boring to me, that what I am trying to express is only partly captured by the drawing, and that other subjects are simply much less interesting. Also, the icons tend to get drawn for a long time, months or years, until I move to a different one...and I also am not quite sure why I drop one icon and switch to another, except that the old one has simply ceased to be interesting. It is strange, I'll grant that. Examples, listed as chronologically as memeory allows at this time, follow:

• Chickens, specifically, a hen sitting on her nest of eggs, profile pose. This is the earliest thing I remember drawing. I had recently lost my mother, so perhaps the image of a hen protecting her eggs was soothing or meaningful to me in some way.
• Guinea Pigs. Always the same guinea pig, my own pet Ginny. I managed to incorporate her white, brown spotted profile into almost every art assignment I got, even after my art teacher said she'd scream if she saw another guinea pig!
• Superman. I always drew Superman facing directly at the viewer. I loved Superman and wanted either to marry him or be him when I grew up.
• Cabbage Patch dolls. Yeah, I really have no idea why.
• A dog with a mohawk in wild colors and a pierced ear. Profile. My 80's punk rock phase.
• A punk looking girl/woman, 3/4 view, high cheekbones, short spiked hair, kind of butch looking, with big earrings. I think she was what I wished I looked like at the time...she looked so cool and so hot!
• A cartoon character I called Roy. Roy was a gray bird wearing a blue beret.
• Cats. Cats ad nauseum. There were a couple of different cats in this phase, first an Angora with curly hair, always sitting, and then it was striped tabby cats.
• Horses. Usually the horses were in a profile pose, pale grey or white with dark feet, muzzle, mane and tail.
• Dark figures, usually children, drawn silhouette style with only the clothing colored and detailed.
• Goats. Some variation here, but not a lot...
• Peaches.
• Salmon...Kokanee salmon. Always profile, but I draw both genders, although only once in the same picture.

Exhausted now, going to rest so that I can eat dinner...

Still feel lousy. The lower half of my body is uncoordinated and stumbly. The rest of me is more coordinated, but tired, very easily exhausted, not much attention span.

Sustained a concussion while handling a large buck goat, Saturday evening. Still don't feel so great. Sleepy, easily fatigued, more emotionally labile than usual. Trying to be gentle w/ myself....

Exhausted for no good reason. Maybe stress.

I'm not an object to be possessed. Women are never things that men are entitled to in any sense of the word. My time, my body, my heart, these things belong to me and are mine to do with as I please, provided that other people's boundaries aren't being violated. I categorically refuse to be defined, restricted and limited by my gender.

And I'm sick and tired of having to repeat this shit, which should be obvious to any thinking person, over and over again throughout my life. Some truths are self-evident. Some boundaries should only have to be stated once. The Dark Ages, in our society, in my life, are officially over and have been for a while now.

368 days ago, I began dating my boyfriend. It was a good choice...and thinking back on how close I came to not dating him scares me a little bit. I'm still not sure how he got through to me, how he melted the hard ice that had encased my fragile heart; probably it was a combination of small gestures, little things here and there....and an awful lot of patience.

There are people who think this is unfair, but the truth of it is that this man has won me over little by little, has earned my trust (not an easy thing) and also, I feel very fortunate to be with him as well. :-)

Tired. Woke up with a pinched nerve in my neck/shoulders, feeling nauseous. Couldn't drink coffee, so then developed a headache as well. Managed to keep down Pepto, then ginger ale and a Go-Girl (caffeine fix sans milk) and a few plain rice cakes, and am starting to feel better again.

And speaking of feeling better....am less tormented by the ugly situation involving my not-friend. There are a number of factors:

• Acknowledging that the silence isn't involuntary. I have chosen to comply with that request. I hate the silence, and I hate the awkwardness, but it's the only thing he's ever asked me to do, so I have done it. In a seriously fucked up way, never speaking to this guy again until or unless he decides speech is OK has become the only way I can demonstrate any sort of regard or respect for him. It sucks, but there you have it, and again, I have been complicit in this so I need to quit whining about it.
• Either this man is a reasonable person and this is a reasonable request that I simply don't understand, or he's not the reasonable person I thought he was. If he is not, there's nothing worth crying over. If he is, then hopefully this makes sense someday.
• My boyfriend is a very reasonable, rational, fairminded individual and despite struggling with the fear of being vulnerable again, I have grown to love him in a way that I didn't know I was still capable of. As nice as it would be to daydream about having the unattainable and reaching the unreachable, my boyfriend is real, solid, reliable, and trustworthy...and I love him.

The old crap still hurts now and then, but it's hurting less than it used to...and I hope that someday it won't hurt anymore at all.