Jaci Dawn

Yesterday, I turned to my husband and said, “There must be something wrong with me.” I didn’t get any further because he started laughing and said, “Um, yes – there is something wrong with you.”

Gee, thanks.

What I wanted to say was “I have so much frenetic energy. I have to be ‘doing’. I don’t know how to relax.”

(It’s OK – he took me for a lovely walk and bought me ice cream half-way through.)

But this energy. This need to be doing. I need to be achieving. Where does that come from? Why can’t I just relax on a sunny Sunday afternoon? Why do I feel like I have to be doing something?

Here’s what I was doing while I was “relaxing”:

I was spraying several coats of primer on an old real estate sign. I primed a wrought iron vintage planter holder. I plotted a Pinterest project. I never stopped thinking or doing.

It’s my father. I had to do things to earn his approval (or so I thought). Achievement meant acceptance. Approval. A report card full of A’s and B’s meant I was worth something.

I tell you this, not because that always rules my life, but sometimes it carries over into other areas, even when I think I have conquered that demon. I was working on two mini portraits for my art website (and to sell, eventually),

I had to walk away from both projects last night, because I was trying too hard to make the art work. I can’t paint like that. the art has to speak to me. It needs to flow. I knew what I wanted to happen, but it was clearly not happening. I was painting in a frenetic energy, trying to create something to meet the approval of an unseen audience.

I took photos of it at that point and walked away from it. I knew what was wrong, and I didn’t wish to feed into that energy any more. I just don’t know how to stop that demon from haunting me and driving me.

I did come back and finish those two pieces this evening. I’ll post them on my website later this week.

I shortened the cape and revealed more of the mara (that’s an animal) and I changed the color of the ribbons. She’s Mara Mapuche, an elder of the Mapuche Indian people of the Patagonia.

Maxine was a difficult portrait: my first instinct was to put her in leggings, but I decided that was *not* happening (or maybe she told me so). Fuzzy pink sweater, pill box hat, and a little bling. Office Manager of the month.

I should mention that is my job title. And Maxine is named after my husband’s paternal grandmother whom I loved dearly. Might even be a slight resemblance (God rest Maxine’s soul).

I need to work on my website. Frenetic energy is often a disguise to keep me from doing what is needed – like updating a website!!