I'm Forgetting

You know how when life gets labyrinthine, so grainy and messy and confusing... that you just want to hide? And then you forget yourself, what it means to BE yourself, and you just act on instinct. This is the story of me lately. My future is uncertain, as it always has been. This does present a lovely way to appreciate the paths that life takes us down. As Shreve Stockton put it in her book The Daily Coyote, "The jewels in this life are the events we do not plan". To an extent, I love this idea. Last April, I would never have guessed that one of my best friends would become even more dear to me. I would never have guessed that I'd be working at a pet store surrounded by animals and animal lovers, which led to my buying of a mountain horned dragon. (more on this later) Life is unexpected, and our willingness to accept changes and roll with the punches, to me, is a great way to judge one's character.
Lately, my character has gone to "optimistic adventurous" to "fearful pathetic". Being strong and confident for those around me is just a front. Inside, I fear the future. When I move to a college, how will I survive? Sure, tuition and my savings will pay for college itself, but what of living? Food, rent, insurance, gas, pets, medicine...



When I get this way, my art takes a strange turn. I've noticed that the less stable my life is, the lazier and more emotional my art is. I no longer have the patience to do pieces like "Banishment" or "The Hath'Kann Moth Rider". Now my art is sporadic, emotional, and frankly, not as good. It is more confusing and more spur-of-the-moment, and results in that odd situation when I have to fudge an explanation for confused viewers, because I don't even know why I do the paintings I do. My art is as confused as I am.



On a more positive note, I've been able to cope with much of this because of Jomo.



He's already proving to be a perfect little addition to my life. He's easygoing enough to not need constant supervision, but active and interesting enough to be a great pet. He's gotten used to taking crickets from me (with tongs or from my fingers), and he's fond of perching on heads. He's decided that his favorite spot to hang out at in my room is a lanyard hanging from my lamp. He clings to it with his uber-sharp nails and has even fallen asleep on it-- hanging completely vertically. When I talk to him, he looks me in the eye and tilts his head, trying to understand. He's exactly what I needed at this stage in my life. A personal little friend to relate to.

That being said, Jomo is a distraction. He can't solve financial issues or decide what sort of living arrangement I should get when I move. But he helps me cope just by being a complex little being who I can hold and admire. I'll get through this with personal dedication. I have to, therefore, I will.