Tag: Art

Repetition and Rehearsal

I find myself thinking that I repeat the same words over and over again, as if I were rehearsing for the day when the thoughts I have, the words I speak and the actions I perform coincide. Anxiety builds up inside my chest; it makes my heart pound and my vision go blurry.

I have not worked on my PhD for two weeks and I have barely worked on the classes I teach. I have not drawn, written or even read – and I wonder: where have these weeks gone? What have I been doing all this time? Last month, on the 20th of October, I was at a seminar I had organized for grad students, and now I am in my room composing this blog post, but I am not sure what happened in between.

It is scary. I feel stuck – stuck on repeat, stuck on nothing. I tell myself that I could flee – that is the escapist solution and it would not solve anything though. I am so scared that I will not make it and that I will ruin everything I have built…

That is yet another repetition.

Another combination of words I have already used.

Where do I go from now? I must fight, but I am tired of fighting. I must go on, but my soul seems exhausted. There is hope… There’s always hope. I just need to catch it.

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Prefer

via Daily Prompt: Prefer 

It is – 

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It’s knowing that sometimes
I cannot hold your hand
Because it isn’t safe
To take it.

It’s feeling there are times
You have to say my name
As if we were just friends.

It’s being called different
And pretend it’s alright
If I can’t kiss you bye
When we part.

It is a hug that means
A million more
Than people think.

It is a look that gleams
In the dark of the room
When no one is paying
Attention.

It is the weight of not choosing
If I prefer to show
My love in public

Or if I want to play
Games of hiding
Games of keeping
It a secret

Just for the sake of playing
Just for the thrill
Of pretending.

Because there are days without
A choice for us.
Places where love is dangerous –
If lights aren’t out.

A teacher’s inspiring love for her students!

Since I’ve been teaching I’ve noticed that a lot of my students love drawing, writing or painting. This aspect makes me feel really interested in them and I’d like to share our common interest on my blog. Actually, I’ve got one student who is fond of drawing and painting, she is an artist at heart […]

via Let’s talk about Art — WELCOME TO OUR ENGLISH CLASS WORDPRESS

I love how passionate my girlfriend is about her job as a teacher. She’s the most amazing human being!!

Starting (almost) over

It has almost been two years now since I wrote the very first article in this blog, and I was very proud of it at first. I would post almost every week – there was something exhilarating about it! But I have been stuck… Looking over the posts, I could see no direction. Something was simply missing… Perhaps it was my rambling too much, or perhaps there was element of repetition… Maybe it was the long pauses in-between posts… I can’t really tell what it was, but it definitely was there – Just blots of ink and erratic strokes…

Abstract 101
Confusion – Watercolour and Ink on Paper

So I thought to myself: “Do you want to give up the blog? Do you want to start a brand new one?” The answer to both questions was a definite “NO”, but I did want to change it.

I turned my computer on this morning and trashed a number of posts I had written; I will probably use them again later and I want to make sure that I have all of the poetry saved in Word file as well. I changed the theme, and the header image. I created two new categories, which you can find in the menu section on the top right corner of the blog, and decided on what I wanted to do differently.

First, I am hoping to write more about mental illness and love, my two new categories. I will try to be more consistent in writing the blog as well. I love writing – poetry, prose poetry, prose, essays… anything that sparks the candles in my brain, but if you don’t ever write, you can’t get better at it. It’s just like drawing and painting… if you never do it, there’s no chance you’ll ever get anything out of it. So yes, I am going to try and make sure I write every week and post a painting or drawing with each piece too. I have been telling myself I would do it for months on end now… I am just a little tired of telling myself I’ll do things… I think I’ve said that in another post, but who knows? I may succeed this time. So wish me luck and perseverance 🤒

Love,

Sacha ⭐️

And I almost gave up…

Three months have passed since I last wrote a post. This is not the first time it has happened – I have to admit I am not entirely sure why. Is it writer’s block? Is it me being so caught up in everyday life that I don’t take time to write? Or it is the old feeling of worthlessness coming back to haunt me and make me want to almost give up everything?

Clouds of thoughts… Lack of confidence… Uselessness…. Mists of doubts…. Feeling nothing

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Clouds of thoughts… Lack of confidence… Uselessness…. Mists of doubts…. Feeling nothing

And I did almost give up, though I didn’t let anyone know the feeling was growing inside me – give up my dissertation, my writing, my painting, my caring for anything and anyone. I almost gave up living altogether. I had forgotten the feeling – like a hand blinding you, choking you, silencing and stifling; so when it crept back, I was overwhelmed. How could I possibly deal? All I wanted was to disappear – to become invisible and to stop being a burden for everyone. And I didn’t tell. I didn’t tell because it would have been bothersome to others, wouldn’t it? I was so ashamed of myself. The blame kept pounding my head relentlessly. I could hear them, and I could see them and they were everywhere. The voices, and the eyes and the hands. I could not tell. This is crazy.

Instead, I focused on my family, my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend and my friends. I concentrated my thoughts on the love I could give and that I kept being given. On the luck I had to be working in a field that makes me feel passionate and stimulated. On all the things that I can do and all that I have accomplished. I faced myself. I looked my fears in the eyes and loosened their grip so my throat would not feel as constricted and my heart as tight.

I painted a mental picture of my dreams come true – a life with the person I love, painting or writing while she was playing the guitar and singing. I saw us working or reading or travelling. I heard us laugh. I took a deep breath and invited these heart-warming thoughts to settle; their soothing warmth scared away the numbness and negative doubts. Now, I am sitting down at the desk writing and my heart is full of love, gratefulness and passion and all I wish is for these feelings to shine on through.

 

I speak volumes

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I have come to terms with the fact that I cannot stop overthinking. I used to be thinking all the time – there it was, the unending flow of words, sentences and ideas, images sometimes, thoughts rushing so fast I could barely keep up. It still happens to me everyday, but at least it isn’t stopping me from enjoying life anymore. I do not overanalyze and observe every single little detail anymore. Or at least, I don’t do it so much that I cannot entertain a simple conversation or activity.

My thoughts are not as dark as they used to be either. But… I still feel bugged. It seems to me I speak volumes, and I think volumes, but I cannot feel satisfied because I don’t act enough. Mahatma Gandhi once said: “Happiness is when what you think, what you say and what you do are in harmony.”

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The harmony between the do and the say/think association doesn’t even come close to being realized in me. I keep thinking and saying: I’ll write in my blog once or twice a week; I’ll read more books; I’ll complete a painting every week and draw a little bit every day; I’ll

make sure to write some poetry or prose each day so I can complete my art and writing projects; I’ll be hard-working and study well to make sure I make my PhD dissertation the best I can make it… I think all these things. I say them too.

I envision my life and my sense of self would be like and how I could, most importantly, help others in any sort of way by achieving all these goals, by making all these dreams come true… But, happiness set aside, what makes the difference between a successful writer or artist and a would-be artist or writer if not the “doing”?

I don’t want to become bitter over time, thinking of myself as some sort of failure because I simply haven’t got myself to do what I dreamt of. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize that all my dreams have passed me by. I don’t want to let the fear of failure and rejection stop me. I don’t want to let the remnants of my depressions tug at me and chain me, so they can take hold of me again.

I have made progress though… I do not seclude myself as much as I used to, and thanks to that, I have met my wonderful girlfriend. But now, I need to find the drive and dedication. I want what is swirling inside of me to be fully realized on the outside too. I wish not to only speak volumes, I want to create volumes!