Art Therapy on a Saturday Night (featuring my cat)


(I apologize in advance for the crappy iPod photos)

It’s been quite the night around here. Earlier, I thought I was tired, so I decided I’d go to bed at the uncharacteristically early hour of 9:30. Seems like a smart decision yes? Listening to my body and such?  Well, as soon as I hopped into bed, I realized I wasn’t tired at all, so I hopped on the internet.  And out of nowhere,  I began to get SO frustrated at nothing and everything at the same time. I still don’t know what it was or what triggered it. I don’t know if you know this feeling, and I don’t know that I can describe it very well, but it was no bueno. I simultaneously wanted to throw things, run three miles (which I physically am not even capable of) and just sleep. It was really weird for me, because I don’t normally have moodswings or whatever you want to call them. I don’t even know if that’s what it was, or it was just a lot of stress bubbling up. I knew all three of the previous options were out of the question, so I decided to clean my room and open my window and inhale some fresh air and to paint. It started getting better after I stuck my head out the window and took some deep breaths, but I still wasn’t satisfied.  I just wanted to do SOMETHING and get whatever it was out of my system.  And, magically, once I pulled out the brushes and started painting, everything started to melt away. Maybe it was my body telling me GO MAKE ART. STOP WORKING FOR ONCE. STOOOPPP.

Well, it worked. I started painting a peacock who I have yet to name. I set up everything so I could just sit on my bed and paint and turned on Pandora. It was lovely.



But really, I’ve got to learn how to relax. I make to-do lists on the weekends and then I procrastinate and stress myself out. I put painting on the to-do list, but it never gets done. Should painting even be a task to do? Shouldn’t it just kind of be for fun when you feel like it? I have to learn how to balance work and an actual life.

And then, when I started to get tired of it, I stopped. This was also good. Usually I paintpaintpaint until it’s done because I’m worried I won’t feel like painting the next day, but when I felt myself start to get actually tired and a little frustrated, I cleaned my brushes (which is so cathartic for me, I lovveee it) and put everything away. I probably should have stopped before these weird orange circles I put on there that I actually kind of hate a little right now, but I can always come back to it later.


And now me and my handsome little man Owie (technically Owen, but we’re not very formal around here at midnight) are chilling out and bonding and perusing Etsy. I love cats. I love painting. I love blogs.


And I hope you all have a great day/night wherever you are. Thanks for reading my weird emotionz rant.

We are off to bed.



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