solitude

I remember the first time I painted anything. I was 16 years old. I told my grandma I wanted to paint. And, like she always did... she told me she thought that was a wonderful idea... and marched me down to the local 5 & dime store (Duebers)... and bought me paint... canvas... and brushes. I used to spend a lot of time in my bedroom back then. To quiet my head. To listen to my Beatles records... and to try to figure out who I was. I used to journal a lot back then... on paper... those were filled with the meandering thoughts of a teenage girl... photographs pulled from magazines... pressed flowers... quotes and poems. My dad would sit in the family room (adjacent to my bedroom) and I still remember how he would knock on the wall... one, two, three times... then wait a moment... the one, two, three times again... then wait... then again... and again... and again... until I would come out of my room and scream something like... "WHAT"... he would say... "what are you doing" ... I would say I was listening to music or I was painting... or "nothing".... and he would ask me to sit by him for a while to watch TV. now I know that he just missed me... and probably thought that he was sad his little kid was turning into an anti-social independent teenager... I would refuse most often but sometimes I would sit with him for half an hour or so... then go back to my brain. much like i am doing this very moment... in order for me to delve into my own head... i need a magic recipe of time, mood, music, quiet... and space... to think. I realize now... that I am such a feeling and receptive person... that when I am around other people I have a very very hard time thinking about myself at all. I think about you. All of you. friends, family, strangers... I want to be in your head. Which I think I do an ok job of... but all that putting myself in your shoes... means I forget about myself. completely... to know you. I am sure there is a way to do both... but i kinda prefer it this way. I find that when I devote my full attention to you... you get a lot more out of it... as do I... and I find when I have a moment of genuine solitude... I can really truly concentrate on my own thoughts... that's when the magic of creating can happen. it really is magic. it's something I can even put my finger on. All I know is that I get into a dream -like head space that can only happen when I am ALONE. being alone is so sobering and awesome. tuning out the droning sound of everyone and everything. I am sitting at my desk at work. ALONE. and I realized I haven't been truly alone... except for while sleeping... in forever. when was the last time. I can't recall. no wonder it's been months since my last blog entry. when was I supposed to think?

i haven't thought much at all about the way i started to paint... or why... in a very long time... but tonight... after everyone else left the shop... and I could hear nothing more than this: 

the music i was listening to and still am... that first painting I ever did came rushing back to my brain... totally subconsciously... and by accident... which is how each and every brilliant (and by that i mean... personally rewarding) thing I have ever done... has ever started... and all the guilt I have been feeling lately about not painting... was washed away by the realization I have devoted zero hours to solitude for as long as I can remember.

for your information... and for visual reference... which I appreciate more than words personally... this is that painting. that started everything. it was done with zero knowledge of painting. with canvas my grandma bought me. from a mom and pop store in the middle of nowhere... and honestly... it's possibly my favorite painting i have ever done. it does justice to how I was feeling when it was created... my heart was screaming to escape and explore the world. the visions I had of myself... the photos and poems and questioning journal entries... culminating into this. a scream. and one thing i have realized... all of a sudden and quite by accident... is that although I am too fucking busy to pay attention anymore... and give due diligence to my own head... and my own life... i am the person i wanted to be back then... i have grown up to be a really interesting and worldly artist... i travel the world. i have a hundreds of interesting stories that i someday hope to tell. i have just as many pictures in my head of the people and places i have already been. some days I feel guilty... like I have taken up more beauty than some people ever get in a lifetime... by the very unsophisticated age of 35. but i am reminded of something a very like soul told me once... about music... he said, "jen... if you're a person that loves good music... good music will find you..." ... I feel like that about life. now... not just music... i am a person that loves good living... and good living has certainly found me.

all of this chitter chatter springs of no more than a pent up creative soul... having a few minutes alone. clearly i need to spend more time alone... but it's not in the cards right now. i have been devoting my days to a business I love... that has been loving me back... and I am oh so excited about it... I have other secret creative endeavors in the works... but that will have to wait for a later blog. rest assured faithful blog readers... all shall be revealed soon enough... and i will once again... take back my solitude... even if i have to hide behind the family room wall and crank up my revolver album. because it is impossible to quiet a scream like this.

Stay tuned: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=371156492984089