i am immensely excited about my drawing class. i think teachers make such a difference. she came in with such an excitement and an exuberance about teaching despite how sleepy and dead we all were on the first monday morning. she obviously has put so much thought into the assignments she gives, and i am really just super excited to make work, and the prompt so far has pushed my work already and it's only assignment 1.

i feel like i'm at a sweet spot of being more liberated and freed to make work. not feeling like my work has to be a certain type of Art, but letting line do its thing. i've left drawing long enough, to breathe, to miss it, and i'm coming back to it. but with a different attitude, a different spirit. em talked about different elements of my work having character - i think the chair has been something people have been drawn to, perhaps the way it slouches, the way the lines kind of are lazy, but also deliberate. i brought my sky pieces to class, and they are something that i am still interested in but not knowing how to approach them, nor what to do with them. i think i need to go back into ceramics and make objects. not on the wheel but just hand building objects. im not ready for that yet, but eventually. maybe i am. idk. 

it's been difficult to separate myself from my anxiety. there are days when i am just crippled by thoughts and endless worry, and i try to work through it but my mind doesnt know how to separate worries from real life. but i treasure the moments of excitement and joy. i think joy and positivity and how we see things is so important. and changes the way we approach situations, and ourselves, and artmaking. i wonder though, if we associate certain people or activities with the things we feel. probably so. despite how subconscious. certain things i associate with anxiety, or hurt; others peace, joy, love. 

i went for a run last night. i hadnt run along the lake in the longest time. i ran to the end, and there's a tiny pathetic beach there. i just laid down on the concrete. the sky was a blend of blue, pink and yellow, soft hues. and there were no clouds in the sky - or maybe there were too many that the whole sky just looked like a painting. i think people like rothko, or are drawn to them because there is a vastness, a consuming power, that draws us in. i squinted my eyes a little such that i could see nothing but the colours of the sky. and it was something so beautiful. to be alone under the blanket of God's goodness and creation. and there's truly nothing that satisfies more than being in His presence. i feel like i forget that a lot.