Moving is considered one of the top 5 most stressful events in one’s life.
I know I put myself here. I dove into the water and I have gotten over the initial shock of cold and yet I am still in the descent, not yet at the nadir of the arc of my dive. The water gets darker before it gets lighter and the bubbles rise ahead of me in slow motion.
I am not one of those people who vents their struggles on canvas, my work is too calculated for that. The emotions I bring to my canvases are in direct relation to the subjects themselves and all of this chaos is like a jam in the frequency – I just cannot feel them. I am tempted to grab the life ring and hang on for dear life.
Everything surrounding the event is enough to keep me up nights (It’s 4:00 am). Certain people circle like vultures waiting for someone to hit a stress limit and then take the opportunity to push them off the edge. Perhaps I more likely got blown off the dock and into the frigid waters today. It is not good for my creative mojo.
While I won’t get into the details that are preventing my utterly exhausted body from sleeping, I will say that I hope I never have to do this again. I feel like I am holding my breath.
This photograph was shot last evening and it is the perfect metaphor – it’s just too bad I can’t use the ship in the background for a getaway vehicle. I am looking forward to the storm clearing so that when I return to the surface, I return to the sun…