Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer
Banging around in my head are ALL the words!
Getting them out is up to me…I know that. I understand that I make excuses not to write, not to paint, not to be creative.
I’ve stopped being that person who sits in the passenger seat of the care and yells, “Stop!!” to whomever may be driving (usually my husband) so I can capture an image, so that I can paint a picture, write a poem or a story.
That old barn, the rusty red tractor, the field of poppies, that ridiculous sign that is misspelt. All stored in that iPhone that is my library of prompts.
It’s a sadness that I can’t explain and one that nags at me, every day.
What happened, why did I choose to let go of the one thing that truly satisfied my “soul”?
The joy of painting, listening to music, being in my own space, journaling the process.
It seemed to die the day I painted for my Dad. I came home from his passing…I let the sadness take away a part of me. I wasn’t strong, I was weak and of no consequence.
Gone was the urge to find quotes, make words that went with my visual – even the visuals had slipped away.
I have clung to the photos, joined all the Facebook groups to ‘force’ me to participate and sometimes, that works, but not always.
Sometimes I find myself crying. Not big heaving sobs but just tears that run.
Sometimes I’m angry, “Just fuck off everyone and leave me alone!”
I’m sick of being the fixer.
Now is my time. I have the space, I have the time, I even have the bloody photo references. I just need to do it.
That space upstairs is again going to be mine. I’m reclaiming it. I deserve it and I need it.
Wish me well. I haven’t done something just for me for a long time and I’m excited.
Best of all? I think I’ve learned that sometimes, you just have to not give a fuck. It’s a freedom I have been loath to embrace but I’m going to. With big open arms.