Monday, 9 July 2018

There Are So Many Lost Poems

The thoughts are so abundant and complex and yet fleeting and they all seem important so I carry a notebook with me to write them down.  I should be more modern and use dictation.  That’s what Jim thinks I should do but I like writing.  It makes the ideas more solid.  The best ideas come when I cannot write, when I am driving or just about to fall asleep.  Sometimes in such a moment a complete poem composes itself in my head.  There are so many lost poems.

There are many unwritten stories too though I struggle with those.  I have many ideas that remain unfinished.  It is difficult to articulate them. 

I’ve never understood why people think I am very articulate.  It is something that has been said of me all my life and yet I know just how much I am not articulating.

I think that is why I like painting.  I can articulate in images and colours.  I wonder if those times when I stop painting are due to that sort of frozen state I get mentally.  A mental fatigue where I cannot figure out what I am thinking or feeling or seeing.  I am in survival mode.  I need recharging and restoring and sometimes I just need to hide from the world.  There is too much world and there is too much going on in my head so I cannot process it all.  I cannot be creative or articulate when my brain is whirring with all of the things I am supposed to do like pay a bill or make a meal and it feels as though I have forgotten how to do those things.  It feels as though my body is made of lead and I cannot possibly do those things.  But then I do something, maybe a trivial thing but something and I feel guilt.  If I can do this why can I not do that?  

I have not painted in about a month, after painting constantly for a month or two prior.  I cannot paint when stressed and yet not painting causes some stress.  It’s a difficult place to get out from but I will.  The desire is there but the body is not yet willing.  And there is some fear.  What if I have forgotten how?  The way back in is to not paint a thing, but a feeling.  Today I managed an hour of painting and this is what I got onto two small canvases.  It’s a start.





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There Are So Many Lost Poems

The thoughts are so abundant and complex and yet fleeting and they all seem important so I carry a notebook with me to write them dow...