This was originally sent as a newsletter for Of Pens & Paintbrushes. If you’d like to get this directly in your inbox, you can sign up here, at the Newsletter sign up page.
First off: There are two new Bespoke pens in the shop – Mahi Mahi, which is a nod to deep sea fishing tackle, and the very classic Black & White Marble. They’re gorgeous. The feedback from the collectors of my first two has been amazing – and I’ve been happily nerding out at the handwriting samples they’ve been sending back. It’s a thing, I love handwriting, probably because mine looks like a five year old trying to design a death metal band logo. (This is why learning Copperplate calligraphy is on my bucket list, maybe then my writing would be legible.) There’s also a few pairs of labradorite hoop earrings available, and of course, original paintings and folded note cards that I need to order more of because I just went through three packs of them and this snarky tumbler (and the stemless wine glass version) that you’re probably not going to find sarcastically amusing unless you’re from the US South. Oh, and really unique and rather lovely bottle stoppers. I have more of those stoppers in queue, so if you’re interested in them, do let me know – I’ll make a point to turn a few more of them,
I am working on designs for rollerball/gel versions of my bespoke pens, but honestly, to do that properly, I need a metal lathe, which is an $800-$1200 equipment purchase. I may find myself with one eventually, but at the moment, not yet. (It IS in the works, but I am not holding my breath on WHEN.)
News front: The painting of Steve (December 12th, 2020) will be in the group show for Tampa Regional Artists this next weekend. This will be the first local opening I’ve missed, because my chorale concert is the same night. (And I committed to that months ago.) It’s not uncommon for artists to not go to openings, so I don’t feel bad – but it is the first one I’ve missed going to. Aside, if you know someone who likes chorale music in the Lake Wales, FL area… you can get tickets for the concert, should you be feeling extra adventurous.
And off we go.
I’ve been thinking about Meaning frequently lately; the ways I look for it, the ways I try to create it, what my grasping and seeking it…well, means.
I know, that sounds kinda out there, but humor me, and run with me here. Think about what we do when we give something meaning: we give it significance, relevance, importance outside of what it is at this moment. To narrow it down even more: importance is meaning we’ve given something based on the story we’ve constructed around it’s (and our) success or failure in the future, usually. What it will do for us, what it will say about us to ourselves and others, what it will get us, what it will liberate us from.
What is the story we’re telling ourselves around this thing, and what role does this event or object or project play in making this story we’ve made up come true?
Example: Why did making a batch of soap or testing a new pen design leave me feeling like my entire life hung in the balance, perilously suspended on my success – and for such small things? (I know why. It was difficult to face, but worth it.)
More interesting to me: why am I telling these stories to myself? What’s their purpose? What do I get out of telling them to myself? Do I find comfort in known roles for myself? Do I find hope that things will change? Why do I want that change? Where is the dissatisfaction that craves change coming from?
Where did I learn these stories? What did they protect me from once upon a time?
The thing is, questions and answers like this, as useful as they are (and they are) are still thinking. It helps us untie the knots that bind us, but I still have to be the one to choose to stop giving things meaning if I want to experience living fully. If I want to be completely present, if I want to soak in how it feels to exist in this moment.
Do you know how often I’ve had to ask myself: Am I actually feeling happy, or do I just think I should be happy? Or, what AM I feeling? Do I even register how this makes me feel enough to know if I like and want to experience this, or am I so wrapped up in giving meaning and sorting out what’s happening for what I’ll say or do next or for contingency plans or to try and predict the next danger or risk or…
The answer is no. I had shut down the lines of communication between physical feelings and thought years ago – a mix of religion and bodily violation trauma for me, mostly – but to be honest, our culture does teach us to detach from our emotions and feelings, to intellectualize everything. We can be reasoned with, we can be persuaded, marketed to more easily when we don’t listen to the gut instinct responses. “No, I don’t want this” – “why not”- “I just don’t” – isn’t good for profit margins, bottom lines, and people who don’t want to take an immutable, irreconcilable no for an answer. So we invalidate (I will not rant about the patriarchy…) and don’t teach people how to understand their own body’s means of communicating what it needs and what makes us happy… and it causes all kinds of complications.
I’ve been actively paying attention to the ways I invalidate my own feelings more and more – does this person make me happy? How do I actually feel about this – not how do I THINK I should feel, but what are the actual bodily sensations I experience around this?
Mostly, I find, I’m scared- at least lately. It’s an awful, uncomfortable feeling. It’s no wonder I try so hard to NOT feel my feelings if fear is the dominant one – it sucks! So, I give things meaning and importance to change my life because I don’t want to feel like this for any longer than I have to. I don’t LIKE this, I want it to stop. It’s frantic, and after a while, it’s so overwhelming that it grinds you down into desperation to numb it or just feel anything else.
I know where it comes from for me- I know what it’s like to have everything hang on one decision, or to have one shot to get something right or the consequences are severe, and those lessons are ones my animal self learned well. It learned about consequences and what I had to do to survive, and it kicks those systems online when fear like this kicks in. I know what it’s like to not be able to say no or choose or say what I want or like or don’t without harsh consequences, so I err on the side of perfectionism and blankness of want and personality. I know what it’s like for my feelings to not matter, and allowing them to matter – instead of assigning meaning and telling myself what I should feel. Being present with this (over and over) kicks up all kinds of silt in the water, and you know what, I don’t like the feeling of that silt between my toes, or not being able to see the bottom.
But you know what else? I know that because I paid attention to how I was feeling. I was present with myself, and I felt proud of myself for that progress. Maybe that’s assigning meaning, too – this notion of progress, but it feels more like hope to me. Hope that this rift between mind and emotion can be breached again, and I like that feeling.
That’s the difference between detachment – not acknowledging your feelings, numbing to avoid them – and nonattachment – experiencing, but not giving them importance or meaning beyond this moment.
A.Markov
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This was originally sent as a newsletter for Of Pens & Paintbrushes. If you’d like to get this directly in your inbox, you can sign up here, at the Newsletter sign up page.