I painted a shoe!

Week 5's lesson for the online watercolor class was shoes. 

I began by drawing one of my husband's sneakers. An afternoon of perspective challenges took it's toll.  I stopped before it was finished. It "might" have worked, but I ran off the page. And Tom's shoe is much longer in real life.  This looks like a child's sneaker. Okay, make me say it, I didn't plan the drawing in advance. 

 

No way in Hell was I going to try to draw this geometric nightmare again. Horrifying experience. Failure accepted. Lesson learned. 

I studied the next shoe, measuring as I lightly sketched. It isn't perfect, but I'm kind of proud of this one. The best part being that I will never have to paint it again.  

I almost had a heart attack painting this. I must remember to breathe.  

Better late than never?

On November 8, 2020, I ordered an advent calendar for my grandson.  I figured I had plenty of time to receive it by December 1st.  I was a bit concerned when it wasn't shipped until November 22; however, I still figured it would arrive in time.  

It arrived yesterday, February 17, 2021.  

Wear the damn mask.

I am doing a dialogue exercise recently used by Roderick Robinson in a post at his blog, Tone Deaf.  

Suzanne is a healthcare technician in a medical clinic. Her patient is a middle-aged man named Joe. 

Joe:  I can take off this mask for the test, right?

Suzanne:  No, our faces will be about 15 inches apart. You have to keep the mask on while in the clinic.  Those are the rules.

Joe:  Seriously, SUZANNE? You're kidding, right?

Suzanne: (Not looking at him, setting up the machine) I don't kid. 

Joe:  This mask is uncomfortable.

Suzanne:  I know it's uncomfortable. I've been wearing my mask and a face shield at least 40 hours a week for nearly a year now. 

Joe:  (Getting angry) It's really uncomfortable!  

Suzanne:  This is to protect us both. Please try to relax and you will be able to get through this. It won't take long.

Joe: (Grumbles and lays down, pulling his mask under his nose.)

Suzanne:  Sir, pull your mask up over your nose.  If you don't, I can't to do this procedure.  

Joe:  I can't believe this!  (He pulls the mask up over his nose)

Procedure accomplished.

Thoughts?

Get real

I came across this on FB the other day. It gave me pause.

It is a lovely sentiment; however, it reminds me of something a person would write AFTER they lost a friend to suicide.

In truth, I don't have friends who want to listen to me talk about the dark thoughts that periodically drag me down. Their eyes glaze, they change the subject, they have to leave, they start telling me about people who have it worse.

This realization doesn't make me angry. I still love them, and I enjoy their company. I just don't look to them for help. They don't know how to help. Why would they?

I think Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez got it only too right when she recently said: "it’s a painful fact for many survivors of trauma that they must deal with people who try to minimize what they experienced when they tell their stories, in an effort to silence them."

When I'm feeling overwhelmed, I pay a shrink to listen to me and help me through it. It works for me.

If you are having a mental health crisis, I strongly recommend getting professional help. Or call a suicide hotline ASAP. It is physically impossible to pull one's self up by your own bootstrap. Sometimes we all need help. There's no shame in that.