accountability

Where I am: The Hierophant

I am stuck in the old thinking of the creative process, the thinking that actually killed my desire to create. 

When I realized or began to be described as an artistic person, or child- there were two major facets of that description that I picked up on really early.

• People wanted it from me, like a commodity

• People only respected my creativity if it somehow supported me financially, again as a commodity.

I keep thinking I have to produce something, and that thing that I produce must be consumable. I keep thinking of it the same way I think of my job. I have to do it right, I am always being judged, I must maintain a  sense of control, I must be good at all times or I could be fired… be rejected… I am consumable, I am a commodity …

When I put myself out there and stop hiding, I must be pleasant and consumable… I have to prove that I am actually like-able.

Where I want to be: Ace of Wands

I want to just go. I want create without thinking. I want to leave my mind completely.

I have these people in my past who were my first “pause causers”... they made me pause in the peak of creativity and question what I was making. Tim, one of my first teenage boyfriend, he told me I never finished anything cohesively. It was all unfinished. I feel like before that moment, I enjoyed just making. It was free. I made. But after those statemenes, the freedom of creativity was no longer there, because it was now shadowed by self-awareness.

Later when I tried to step out again, and make/show my art it was described the same way. I remember being asked by a failed artist (now art critic, of course), “Do you paint with intention? Or is it all on a whim?” “Is it all intuitive?”- his tone filled with judgement.  I remember not understanding why it had to be one or the other, and as I tried to answer the question, the tinge of insecurity started blanketing my internal thinking… but I couldn’t confinidently say then, “ I don’t understand the need for this question?”... I tried to fit in  and make sure this “art critic” who was asking me questions would think I was “true” in my creativity. I had to be convincing. I pretended it was both, I pretended I understood how I made art, I pretended- even though I knew deeply that it just happened, and in truth I had very little control over the creative process. In fact any moment I came into awareness that I was making something, the fluidity of the process slowed.

I couldn’t look in the mirror, or I would fall into it.

 I am, I am, I am, I am.

Every time I paint or make art now, as soon as I start to make something- I hate the process.

I have eliminated the freedom. 

I’ve eliminated the joy. 

It has to be cohesive, it has to be outlined, and finished… it has to be consumable…

I have to finish it, I have to make it make sense. 

The mirror takes over.

That has to GO. It has to fuck right off in order for me to heal.

Ace of motherfucking wands.

I just need to create with abandon, but I have no clue how anymore.

The first step (I think…) is removing my life from the idea of a job. 

Unfortunately in this shit hole of a country, your life and your work are almost always separate, while the “work” part takes up most of your space, and from the very beginning of our training as good citizens, the lines of “life/pleasure and work” are increasingly and intentionally blurred.

The “work” bleeds into the life. I have to stop that in order to rebuild my creative process. 

Work is work. 

I leave it there. 

I can’t be the best at work, I can’t give it my all- because the premise that “you actually have a footing” at a job, is absolute nonsense under the structure of capitalism…. 

You have no footing. You are a machine, and they are paying you for your labor.

It isn’t home, it isn’t family, they are not your friends. 

They can pull the rug out from under you, 

and remind whenever they please that they are consuming you.

So, the lesson that I have to learn, is I will only be consumed by my employer if I am getting paid fairly.

I will not care more about the “job” than I should. 

It is a job.

I leave as soon as the days pay is no longer fair.

The job doesn’t enter my home, and my home goes beyond the walls of this physical house-

My home is my mind, my brilliance, my creativity- work is not allowed to go there.

We are all trained so deeply that it feels like true human nature to be passionate about your job.

I am the most guilty of this.

I will full-blown-autistic-ass pour my heart and soul into a fucking job that somewhat aligns with my moral code. I will absolutely make someone elses dream my fucking reality, and look for the appreciative eye the whole time. “I’m the best right? I inspire you right? I am doing the goodest goodest job!?” (REALITY CHECK: Am I secretly more like a dog than I would care to admit. Fucking hell.  With Terrible Sadness; signed, A Cat Person).

But your passion isn’t for your employer.  

(why do I keep switching from me to you while typing? I think I am trying to convince myself)

The absolute opposite is true  and they give you clues from day one, 

“Leave your emotions at the door.”- 

“This is work, not therapy.” 

OR as my current boss says, “This isn’t a halfway house.”...  but you still must be passionate about your job, even though the word by its very definition means: “uncontrollable emotion.”  

The bosses dream isn’t yours. 

You are merely being consumed so they can fuel their dream.

They need you to keep their dream afloat, and as soon as you start to lose the passion to keep their vision going, they can pop your life jacket. 

It goes right back to money—- the undeniable truth of the entire contract you signed.

If you are not as dedicated, as passionate, as willing to let them steal your fucking time in lieu of wages, they will dock your pay. “Don’t mess with us, you will be reminded of your place.”

Well that is step one.

No. 

You can NOT have my passion.

I will do my job.

I will go home.

I will save every single dripping ounce of my passion for myself, and all of that passion will become fuel for only me (that is step two, we can iron that out later).

What is blocking me: 9 of Swords

Fear, anxiety, trauma, shame. Sounds about right.

I need to breakdown all of the incidents that happened above- but aside from the mother wound

 and step-father wound,

aaand  the internal wound, 

and as I realized as I typed earlier THE JOB WOUND….

I have always felt like me as I am isn’t right.

 I don’t have an argument, I am lying, I’m wrong all together.

But maybe that isn’t the point, the point is I feel like the opposite too sometimes, 

and I need to concentrate on those moments. 

I am right as I am.

I don’t need to argue, because I have nothing to prove to anyone but me,

And onwards, stupid.

What will unblock me: 6 of Cups

Generosity, naive happiness and childhood.

That is it.

This is the simplest part-

I will stay, waist high in the depths of childlike wonderment.

I will swim there. 

I will put glitter in my hair, look you in the eyes and dance upon the surface of this glowing green earth with wild passion and love for myself and all of the things I touch.

VOILA, simple. CHECK!

Umami: Queen of Wands

Extreme focus and fiery passion.

Hahahahah, fuck this was a perfect tarot pull.

Who knew tarot was real?