Somewhere in between Disposable and Precious

Merry whatever it might be you celebrate this time of year, if anything. We don’t, but most people do and so I hope your celebrations were happy and fun and stress free.

There’s this tendency to get scared of messing up when using canvas or good drawing paper. It’s somehow special… precious. It’s canvas, and it has this feeling of “I can’t fuck this up, oh shit” to it such that ya tense up and what comes out is less free, less unreserved, scared of fucking up, and therefore rigid and relatively sucky compared to what you could loosely sketch on some newsprint while you’re bored in the doctors office.

I do this with more than just canvas. On the bright side, I’m getting over it with regards to my art. I usually paint on canvas, so long as it’s more than a study, and I’m to the point where it doesn’t faze me at all.

However, I have all these “journals” around… and log books, note books, etc. I have a bit of an office supply fetish, if you must know… as well as a bit of a stationary fetish that rears up every time there’s a really awesome something that’s totally cool that would be awesome for (something I’ll never actually do). Which is a problem. All these awesome looking journals around, waiting for profound words of wisdom, emotive poetry, and who the fuck knows what else that I never get around to. I’ve given up years ago the though of a diary in these things, that’s never my intent. It’s always poetry, stories, something that’s worth putting in pretty wrapping and whatnot.

I don’t really write stories or poetry. I write some bad haiku, but that’s about it. Some of them were meant to be crap having to do with various characters over the years, like Liara’s journal, and whatnot.

Meanwhile, I get not-so-bad looking sure-it-will-suffice notebook like thing to keep track of weights, food, workouts, and general record-keeping w/r/t my health, fitness, well-being… goals, actually.

And I’m sitting here realizing that maybe I deserve to have something useful and pretty for keeping track of these things… elevate the disposable and banish the precious… something in between… pretty things that I actually use, because it’s ok to do that. If I plan to keep these records for a while (and I do, I still have my original records from 02, 03, and 04…) shouldn’t they be non-disposable anyway? Shouldn’t I treat them that way from the beginning?

My goals are important to me, and when I keep track of them and my progress and my actions I do fairly well, because I make them important by keeping them prominent. Not necessarily time consuming, just prominent in my little brain. When they become too disposable, that’s when I stop keeping track after a bit.

I’m working on getting back to where I need to be. The right head-space, the right record-keeping, all to get to the spot where I want to be back to… the chick at the top of this page. The one who was far more fierce in her fight for her ideal body because she hadn’t been “proven” incapable yet. And, of course, she didn’t have school getting in her way… screwing with her eating schedule and making her write papers instead of manly lifting iron.

And I’ve decided that I need to be vain, and proud of my accomplishment again. I need to not give a fuck when people make retarded-assed comments about my pictures and shit. Hell, it was a big fucking step for me to be happy enough with my body to actually TAKE pictures. (Seriously, sometimes, I’m that skewed in the head. sigh.)

You know, I’m really not sure what happened. Something did. Somehow I slipped. Not in an “off the wagon” kind of way, but somehow I slipped back into old ways of seeing myself… I didn’t realize it was so damn easy to get lost again.

I can’t tell if I’m still fucked or not.
A brutal 25 minute interval session was had earlier, and I’m not totally exhausted.
My house is getting clean.
I think my head is too.

I got lost in other things. Balance is hard. I can’t excel in everything all the time because then I’d go fucking batty and never sleep. So the one thing that always gives is me? wtf? And I yell at other people when they do that shit. HA.

I don’t make resolutions because resolutions are retarded. But I have things I’m implementing until my birthday, because I plan on being a rather hot birthday girl.
And although it’s been a bit fuzzy for a while, suddenly I see clearly again.
Maybe because I see the temporary end of school, allowing me to think beyond that.

Smile. The christmas music has stopped. :-)

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