Mia: Don’t you hate that?
Vincent: What?
Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it’s necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Vincent: I don’t know. That’s a good question.
Mia: That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.
That, my dears, was my weekend. But you’re going to have to wait to hear that tale.
With that, the sound begins again.
I know that it has been awhile since I’ve done this. So much has been going on. But don’t fret.
I have not stopped writing- I just changed mediums for awhile.
I have not stopped dating.
I have not stopped smiling.
(Non sequitor.)
I have not died.
(Well, that part is only partially true.)
I still exist.
I guess part of what happened is, as generic as it may sound…
life.
I was walking through the art supply store yesterday waiting for my friend to be free to cut me some canvas. I can’t remember the last time I painted. I was inspired and felt it was time.
My weekend had been a blur. A punch drunk fury of hours come and gone like a gust of wind. Perhaps the rain this week washed away more than just a few dirty streets.
I think I know what I’m going to paint.
My best had to help a customer. I found myself lost in shelves lined with magic. I called the one person who I knew was a combination of both worlds.
“Grandma what are you doing home? You’re supposed to be in Dwight enjoying your childhood memories.”
“Next weekend.”
“I want to have sand in my paint but I forgot what I need for that…”
“To thicken it up you need a medium. Or you can just use oils because its thicker.”
You see, and this should not come as much of a surprise, but my grandmother… is an artist.
“Grandma I had… All I want to do right now is paint. I want to hike and paint and watch sunrises and sunsets over the city and paint for awhile. It’s been too long. I have a lot on my mind.”
“I think thats wonderful. Do you still have those brushes your aunt and I bought you years ago?”
“I do. I’m going to have to dig them out. I’m buying a couple of artist pallates. I want to go to the beach and paint so I want something that if I lose I won’t be super upset about losing.”
“Buy a plastic one or get paper ones for that. Best bet would be plastic. It’d be easy to clean.”
“Grandma, tell me about how it was to date in your time What was that like for you.”
“I don’t talk about that. I did date before your grandpa but I’m a very private person.”
Oh what she doesn’t know…
We walked around and talked about life.
“Why as a society are we brought up and told “Be honest. Be yourself. Be open.” but then when you actually are, people crucify you for it… because there’s something about them that they can’t fully express and they’re envious… because you are the colorful painting and they are stuck in black and white.”
“Because people are hypocrites!” She said with a laugh.
I guess that’s part of why I took a pause. My scrawlings, despite being vague and relatively ananomous nature have been both uplifting and the knife of the final move of my demise. Despite my openness about this blog before I ever even enter into anything, men seem to become entransed by the words and then… when the plot really thickens and the soufle is in the oven… well, they fall short.
“Choose your words wisely. They make or break you.”
I am not broken anymore.
I may not be that black and white picture all of the time but…
Life has been busy. I have eased into a semi normal lifestyle believe it or not. I have slept some wonderful nights and I have also tossed and turned with dreams of a ghost.
But those tales shall come later.
Know that I have been to hell and beyond and… it’s good to be back. We have a lot of catching up to do my friends. And thank you for the messages telling me to get back to this.
More later. But for now? I have to get dressed. Someone got a normal 9-5 office job downtown. Mind boggling huh?
Cheers,
j.
I am an Enigma 