elf hill

Honour Your Inner Magpie

Ooh, shiny!!

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recycled meme-thing, Day The Last, however many there actually were
elf hill
elisem
Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people right now.
Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn offs.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two smileys that describe your life right now.
Day Ten: One confession.


I do a thing sometimes, and far too often when I'm stressed, that I call "art anorexia." It's usually showing up as "E doesn't get to the workbench and actually work on anything." Since making art is part of what has saved and continues to save my life, this is serious. It's worst when other things are very hard, and of course that's when making art would help me the most.

So. If you want to help do something about it, I guess you could ask me if I've made art today yet. It'll remind me that hey, I could do that. And that it will certainly help if I do.

I'm lucky. Making art has never once failed to help, at least since I found my art(s). And on that note, there are nine pairs of earrings in progress, of which eight use lampwork glass. So that's what art I've made today so far.

Oh holy shit Elise me too. I skip painting when I "don't deserve" to do it. And it makes me worse. Right now I'm godawful. *I'll check on you if you'll check on me.* Deal?

Yes! Definitely a deal.

I fail AGAIN. Not even one earring. BUT I did tidy my house and wash my palette knives, both of which make art tomorrow waaaaaayyyyy more likely. How you doin'?

I don't think of it as failing, because I get all messed up if I think of it that way. So I just count the times I manage it as wiktories, and let the rest be baseline.

That said, I have done a tiny bit of writing, and am about to go to the workbench to make progress on the necklace I started very recently. I hope.

That's interesting - are you saying you actually walk away from art when stressed?

For me, "I don't do anything fun/creative" is a symptom - "whoops, I'm getting bad, because..." and not a withdrawal from them. I don't choose not to - I just don't do them, because there's no free time to do them.

Of course, for me (and most people, I think) there's a border to problems (depression/stress-drowning, etc.) where trying to do the things I do when happy is necessary.

Inside that border, I can't really do those things - if I do, I'm aping them, not really doing them. That's when it's time to stop forcing myself.

Outside that border, I do them anyway.

But on that border - that's when I need the discipline of doing them, so that I pull away before I get sucked inside.

I'm not sure I can answer that, because I think about it quite differently. Or maybe I experience it quite differently.

I don't walk away from art when badly depressed -- I deny it to myself. I don't know all the feelings and reasonings that go into it, but it's there and I don't go over and do it. It's a lot more like ailbhe's "don't deserve" than ....

Hm. What do you mean by "Inside that border, I can't really do those things - if I do, I'm aping them, not really doing them. That's when it's time to stop forcing myself."? I can't parse that one, because I can't imagine what "aping" art would be. I'm there. The materials are there. We enter into dialogue and go from there.

I guess it's when I'm really in bad shape, I don't enter into that dialogue. Even though I know it will help profoundly. Hmm.

Thanks. I think I just had a realization about something. And I'll say that for me, art is interaction between me and it. Which is why art, for me, is not a product of myself, or whatever some people call it. It's a thing that needed to be, and I was lucky enough to be there with the useful things at the right time to help it be.

I might work in solitude, but I'm never lonely when I am doing art. Never alone.


Well... if I'm depressed past a certain point, I can't exactly write. I can put words on a page, and if I'm driving myself, I might even get what's technically a "story" out of myself. But there's no real connection. If I tried to make a connection, I'm probably grabbing at ideas that I've used before, that worked before, but probably aren't working correctly right now because I don't feel them. That connection just doesn't happen.

There are two reasons for this. First is anhedonia - pleasure gets shut down. There's no sense that "wow, this will be *good*" because it won't be. It'll just be done, thank heaven. And the second is I've lost connection to the world. I don't quite *get* what feels normal and right, so I can't create something that can connect to other people.

When I'm there, it's good when I try to write, because I might be on the border where writing will help me. But if I try too hard to write, it just won't happen. And in those cases, after I've tried - really tried, not just kinda tried - I should stop because it can become more frustrating to continue.

(There's an obvious sexual metaphor here that I think works really well.)

Interesting! I think that my art works very differently.

I'm wondering if it's a difference between the... well, physical arts and other kinds. Hm. Part of why I make the art I do is that I absolutely have to make things with my hands, because doing tangible physical art does something so profoundly powerful that I usually just say "it saves my life." Which it has. I do other arts, too, like writing, but they don't have the effect on me that the physical arts do. Making music is sort of halfway between writing and jewelry.

Hm. Must ponder this. Because my experience is profoundly different, and I'm curious as to why. On the other hand, maybe everyone's is.

Also I gotta say that I really like that icon. :-)

I like your icon, and I wonder whether I was thinking of it in the deep recesses of my mind when I made the facepainting I use as my icon here https://twitter.com/artbyailbhe ?

Oh, neat!

My icon (the one called "elf hill") is a photograph taken by the wonderfully talented Heather Corinna. (She took an amazing series of photographs that was a gift from me to a lover, years ago. This is one of the worksafe ones.)

Thank you; you don't think it looks too phony, do you? Because... well, I borrowed the hat.

(I also suppose I borrowed the kitten, but who owns a riding kitten these days?)

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