Those were such difficult times back in 1988. That may have been the year I prepared a handmade Christmas for the girl’s dolls. I made everything, from fuzzy houseslippers to lunch sacks with tiny (sculpy) food inside and handmade napkins, party dresses, play dresses, sweaters cut to fit from thrift store finds, pleated skirts, and gingham blouses,doll size jump ropes, chairs, and scoured thrift stores for doll size possibilities. I even found three tiny tooth brushes and sawed the handles off to fit doll size hands; everything you can imagine an 18 inch doll might need, I tried to make, including towels, washcloths and one inch bars of real soap. The girls say it was their best Christmas ever even though I didn’t have a dime to spend. I presented it all on the dining room table, nothing wrapped, just a magical scene of doll land spread out to ooh and aah over! We didn’t even have a camera to take a picture of that magical array, nor the reactions of those three little girls who still believed in magic! But they remember it in every detail and remains so special in their memories.
I wish I could gain some of my enthusiasm from back then. Lately I have been stuck, unable to pull myself up and get busy creating again. I have hundreds of ideas, I have the time, I have the materials, but I don’t have me. I don’t know where I’ve gone. I know 2009 was a very difficult year for me; losing my job and not being able to find another one. Trying to overcome the humiliating experiences I endured just before termination. Then getting sick and spending every day coming to terms with that; endless doctor visits, treatments, and more treatments. Now it is all behind me, but I can’t get myself moving. I think I should feel so joyous that I am okay and have a solid future ahead of me, so why am I acting this way? Sometimes I force myself to join something, or attend some art related event, but I am no sooner there than I want desperately to return home. Have never been a very good joiner, but was certainly better than I am now! I have practically become a recluse and I don’t even care. I go to visit my daughters in Portland and spend the entire time fighting an overwhelming desire to come back home. This whole thing is exhausting, and frustrating. I keep thinking I’m going to run into myself any time now and things will get back to normal, but it hasn’t happened and now 2009 is many months behind us — so — what do I do? I am not a whiner, I do not complain to others about my problems, I have an aversion to this kind of behavior. I know I am a strong woman, I know I have been through much worse than this – but somehow it seems to all have accumulated and grown into such a force that I can’t get past it these days.
Sorry to be so down, sorry I haven’t got any art to share – just boo-hoo poor me. Boring.