Outside In

Larry and I had some words this afternoon. I can't even remember what they were about. Comments taken the wrong way, perhaps the inflection was sharp, or the words jumbled out in the wrong sequence, landed in a messy heap and were picked up in the wrong order, or a combination of hormones, stress, mid life crisis, or all of the above. I tried to remember that movie from 20 years ago..about the boy who drowned and how it destroyed the family and altered their lives forever....

I stormed out to the studio in frustration and anger and grabbed my camera. It was cold and dark, but I stopped to take a picture of the studio; outside looking in.

The joy of the day was finding my CD case that I had thought I had lost and grieved over for a long time. I thumbed through it rather desperately looking for something to blast so that I could just feel the music and get out of my head. I found Peter Murphy of Bauhaus fame, the perfect funk, punk, and gloom. I pumped up the volume, and danced while working like a maniac. I wondered what the neighbors thought, but figured that they were shuttered in behind closed windows and shades on this cold winter night. I let the music and art plunge through me. I suddenly smiled, remembering how my son would blast KORN when we had an arguement. Korn, Peter Murphy, Beethoven, it's all the same; relief, catharsis, balm. In that moment I understood him, even though when he did it I wanted to go upstairs and rip the wires out of the speakers and wrap them around his neck. Sometimes one has to be on the outside looking in to obtain such poignant moments of clarity.

I made some beautiful cards, as I don't like to paint after sunset. I prefer the natural light by which to paint, though I find painting more therapeutic than designing. But art is art, and Peter Murphy washed over me with his sexy intense voice and lyrics.

I called up friends of mine to see if they were going dancing. A place uptown was having a dance party, and I thought that would be the perfect venue to blast out the rest of the blues. I don't think they are going, so I will take a hot bath instead then lay by the fire. Larry is running a bath for me hoping that the savage beast within me will wash down the drain with the bath water when I am done. What a great visual, little demons swirling around in the eddy of the drain, screaming in their descent. Is that it, am I possessed?

I am back from the bath. The demons are gone. For a long, long time I laid back and closed my eyes and let fantasy and hot scented water caress me. I am once more at peace and ready to welcome sleep. Sweet dreams, patti