I am Fighting Your Demons

I am not sure if apologies are necessary, but I will do one just the same.

Writing has been taking up all of my time, which leads me to be a hermit and indulge in the artistic side of creating, which usually means becoming an isolated asshole actually!

So, my apology is to the fact that I haven’t had the space of mind to write to you from here, but please know I am writing.  If you have never undertaken the labour of love which is creating a book then let me tell you it is without a doubt, time consuming, all consuming and leaves you very bleary eyed and lacking any form of being able to articulate a normal conversation outside of the parameters of the pages you are staring at.

Every situation turns into a new setting and before you know it you are staring at strangers trying to capture the movements in words.  On that note, apologies to the poor lady in the ice blue dress with the wind gently caressing your hair as you order your Pina Colada from the bar, the sun gently setting behind your…oh shit there I go again.

It could be worse, I could not have the time to be able to create.  Ugh, just writing that gives me the heeby jeebies.  My creative hand has usually been attached to a paint brush, but with all of our travelling to create my husband’s books, carting around paints and canvas was not an option-thank you airlines all over the world for charging so much in baggage fees.

I started this blog with the understanding that I was venting, letting go of demons, expressing my pain and hoping that thru all of my words someone out there could rely on the fact that they are not alone in their daily struggles.  We all have our own battles to fight and we all have our own unique way of dealing with that.

I would like to thank you, each and every one of you for your support in this past year with I Am this Woman, as it has been the canvas for my novel to unfold upon.  Like layers of paint, I have been slowly building my own Mona Lisa.

The last time I put brush to hand was to do a self-portrait of my husband, he was in the process of completing his second book and based on my first paragraph, ‘Which means becoming an isolated asshole’, I had some time and space to turn his book into a piece of art.  I wasn’t able to complete it and it still rests in Scotland, one day I hope to return to it and put the final pieces of his words on it.  For now though it is a reminder to me that creating, of any form is a healthy expression and one that all should try.

 

And on that note, I Am Off, off to create, off to become that indulgent artistic brat that we all know and love (she says with a wink)….off to describe every nuance of a piece of sand.

I am that artist, I am that writer, I am that asshole, I am a creator, but most of all I am this Woman.

Title-Fighting Your Demons,

Self Portrait-Denny Denholm

Mixed Medium on Acrylic

Artist-LXO

 

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I am that Chick

I am that Chick…

He was late, their first ‘coffee date’.

As Fleur started to close the studio and put the possibility of morning coffee on the back burner, she started to recall who he was.

They had met two years before, Fleur had needed to update her qualifications as her studio was busy and she was looking to increase her knowledge for her clients. He had been at that same course, and he was late then too, she remembered.

The thought of their conversations from that weekend two years before had started to flood back. He had just returned from War and he spoke of the other War he was now in …divorce. He spoke of his little boy and the love for him and his fight to be in his life. He also spoke of his love of writing and how he had been in the process of starting a book.

I am that chick from the course.jpgShe remembered he was funny, engaging and he spoke of finally enjoying his life and all the ladies that came with that. She remembered thinking then what a great friend to have met and they parted ways and that was that.

Fast forward two years, Fleur was in exactly the same War he had spoken of all those years ago.

And so that is how Fleur ended up here in her studio, recleaning the same floor pretending she wasn’t all that fussed if he was a no show. After all it was silly to be waiting for this man she couldn’t quite place.

As she turned off the lights at eleven past eleven, the studio door opened…She remembered him, he was that guy from the course.

I am that Chick from the course