untethered
The brain, which existed almost completely devoid of creativity throughout November and December, is now in recovery mode. The first week or two of this always feels a bit manic - a flood of ideas and desires that need guidance and pruning.
All of it is a means of feeling more truly like myself; none of it (yet) a viable means of livelihood.
I sometimes wonder: if I wasn't beholden to the responsibilities of adulthood, if I didn't live with other people, would I ever come up for air? Or would I just exist within my inner worlds? In all of this - my trials with the body and the brain - I am thankful for a rich interior thought life. Sometimes (rarely) I wish to be better grounded, but more often than not I enjoy being a little untethered.
One day I'll be free of this plane entirely. Maybe that's my idea of heaven - the ability to retreat completely within myself; to live inside of those dream worlds, unbothered, until time stops.
Today, in the very much tethered-to-reality minutiae of everyday life: Bad pain day. Got too high, took a three-hour nap, and now can't sleep. Sold the husband's old 4Runner. Did some good old pencil and paper figure drawing. Started a new book about symbolism in art. Read about the Polyphemus Moth, then Polyphemus, Galatea, and Acis. Later, about Tristan and Isolde. (All love, apparently, is doomed.) My uterus feels like it's trying to murder me. Going to wind down by reading some inconsequential fluff.
11:29 p.m. - 2024-01-07