Moss Romance

Current: dandelions in bloom this week, people haven’t really caught up with the lawns around here and some of them are solid yellow polka dot. It’s pretty rad, these yards full of dandelions.

The daffodils are almost over, tulips in full-force. Redbud, cherry, apples, blooming: Pink Trees
Everywhere!

Sweetshrub/Calycanthus (?) – actually smells sort of like strawberry perfume! This has been the best year of bloom on this small tree/leggy shrub. I have had it planted for a few years, but this is the first year that I didn’t suspect an overwintering death to make itself apparent in a sad lack of blooms. It bloomed!

So, below you will find the sad-sap text I sent myself over the past few days. Boo hoo. I really ought to edit this stuff. Although I am pretty flexible in my interpretation re: photos and drawings and the syntactic linkages between words…I try to be fairly forthright in describing myself on any given day. Sometimes I’m awesome. Sometimes…not so much.

…and ain’t that the way.

Reply

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faithrhyne@gmail.com

show details Apr 11 (3 days ago)

Exchange:

“Well, I haven’t even had my cheese grits yet!” Exasperated-obnoxious.

“I’m sure your were offered something. In fact, I just offered you cereal as soon as you got home.” Slicing cheddar and stirring cheese grits calmly.

“If you hold off until you get some specific thing, well – you can blame only yourself for your hunger.”

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——Original Message——
From: Me
To: Me
ReplyTo: Me
Subject: Re: Who knew?
Sent: Apr 11, 2010 8:10 AM

I had a great idea re: the bins of stuff that the kids have accumulated. Sort and display.

Yesterday, when I started the project, I became so overwhelmed by bin #1 that I simply emptied it’s entire contents into a giant, black garbage bag. I plan on doing more of this today.

**************************************************************************************
(letter to unknown ally = timekill/distraction)

——Original Message——
From: Me
To: Me
ReplyTo: Me
Subject: Re: Who knew?
Sent: Apr 10, 2010 7:50 PM

My name is Faith Rhyne. I draw a picture (or more) a day. I started this project almost a year ago. To draw a picture every single day for a year. I thought it was just about drawing, but the process has blown the lid off of my life in ways unknown.

I am a wage-earner in the science education industry. I am an advocate for truth in all endeavors. (Which is kind of a pain in the ass, for obvious reasons.)

I have two children and an unfortunate ex-husband who lives two houses down in a house he had painted my favorite color.

I have an 18 foot instinct-built sculpture in my yard, that is supposed to house chickens – but doesn’t.

My best dog died three days ago and, in the process, incurred a couple of thousand dollars of veterinary fees. I have been writing and drawing and planning and scheming and logging it all on a web-log: www.consolationprizes.org – which this letter is posted on because it’s all a bit of a paradox…perhaps process is my medium.

I need advice as to what I should do with the pile of files of drawings that I’ve made during this strange year. I am sure that you all are kind to people who seek solace in this simple art.

Maybe I will sew them all together?

“Mom! A chicken is in the house!”

“Well, get it out.”

Duh.

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If I didn’t keep this web-log, not so much a blog as I am removing the ability to comment and, frankly, I am not a blogger. I don’t follow current events, I know nothing about technology. Some of my very favorite songs are hard to find on the internet.

Aw – lousy old Wednesday. Beautiful day. Sunny, breezy, the far off insect-whine of lawn mowers, weed whackers, a chain saw in the mix somewhere.

I cried at work today. Over dead dogs and just how dang tired I feel of all the sad stories in the world.

I am going to start actively seeking consolation. Trying to find evidence of joyful endeavors. I need to watch more skateboarding videos. Finish spray-painting the kitchen floor gold.

I am a happy person in a lot of small, quiet ways.

But, the big joy eludes me. I never, ever feel free. Does anyone ever feel wholly at ease in their world? And, if so, what then?

I have a strongly analytical mind. It comes from reading narrative fiction, of being the omniscient observer. Literature has helped me to develop a comfortable little disassociative disorder. Narrating my way out of all sorts of trouble.

But, the sound narrator is unbiased in weaving a story. And so, I must admit:

This sucks. And I will come up with a way to scrape some good out of it. Write it a story in which I at least persevere.

But, right now – it just plain sucks. I just want to stare into space for about six hours straight, or buy a bus ticket and disappear. I could never disappear. My tattoos make it impossible for me to be invisible. They mark all the places I go.

I’ll be alright. Anyone who has read this whole thing knows that it is an experiment in the process of becoming fearless…which I’m not so sure I want to be fearless, afterall.

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Speaking of ‘the whole thing’ – meaning this blog, which I’ve kept up at a steady pace since last summer, since the week my husband moved out of the house and I decided to draw everyday for a year.

Really, that is what this is supposed to be about! Drawing. I hardly ever talk about drawing. What is there to say? It is an amazing exercise in simplicity. Cheap. Easy. Erasable.

I have finally begun to settle into a style…sometimes. This style is most true when I draw botanicals or fabric or sand or water. Adding lines and taking them away, the bold with the blurred. I am not a precise artist, though my technical skills have improved dramatically since I started this thing.

I do draw everyday – and if I miss a day due to some fatigue or another, well – I draw two the next. I post most of what I draw. Not all.

I am trying to be amazing – with or without grace. I just know I don’t want to waste any more time being quiet. I feel loud when I draw, even if I am not saying a word – which is usually the case.

I am not entirely sure what this project is now. Whatever I need it to be?

I am intending to organize this in some way – but, too be honest, it is not high on my list of priorities and I wonder about whether or not a cull and place would disrupt the stream of creative consciousness that this thing has come to be.

This week, it is a distraction…and some place to prop evidence that
I am still here. This project is sort of the thread that I hold onto…the line that I hang my big ideas from.

The whole dang world is trying to be something, do something, mean something…
me – I am just trying to be amazing in whatever way the circumstances challenge me to be. I am a pessimist at heart…too weary to feel genuinely hopeful for the world, but I am buoyed by small scenarios and comforting details.

Unexpected and consoling.

So, sort of not feeling real inspired re: Conception: A Graphic Novel!
Kind of sick of people, not really wanting to think about how people make more people. So…

It is a good idea and I am still trying to wrap my brain around it. But, it’s really sort of icky. Amazing, but definitely weird.