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Nightmare After Hamster-Wheeled Stress Thinking

10/12/2017

4 Comments

 
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"Nightmare After Hamster-Wheeled Stress Thinking" - mixed media on watercolor paper, 30" x 22".  Inquiries.

It's October - that time of the year when we are free to explore all things frightening, or to (for one night) become scary monsters and creepy ghouls  ourselves.  So it just makes sense to have a scary painting challenge, right?  But you know me...I can't just choose a scary vignette and paint it.  I have to explore what terror feels like to me and let the painting do a little talking during the process.  This one was quite a surprise!

It began as a what seemed to be three floating skeleton heads in a sea of color, but somewhere along the layers this screaming person in her pajamas and night cap appeared, and she happened to be chased by a floating skeleton head, who seemed poised to CHOMP at any moment!  WHAT?  Ok, ok.  We have to dissect this, right?  

Apparently  I am afraid of  insomnia. Probably because it happens a lot.  I know, I'm at "that age" where sleep can't be taken for granted anymore.  Sometimes the thought wheels are spinning in the middle of the night.  Mark Nepo wrote an exquisite chapter about fear in Seven Thousand Ways to Listen.  He called it "Raven Talk", and describes perfectly the grip of spiraling thoughts: "I was already drowning in what-ifs, and the fear began to circle like a raven gliding near my heart, waiting for an opening to tear its piece...I am stuck in its dark wing.  I cry out to no one."   It never fails to stun me how stress thoughts can amplify in the dark of night, taking on strength and mass and becoming monsters.  Nepo goes on: "So now I'm up again in the night trying to shoo the dark bird of fear."

Once I finally drift off, dreams drag the thought ravens into my sleep world in bits and pieces, turning them into houses without exit doors and never-ending hallways.  But when I wake, except for a brief sound of wings carrying away the last of the dreams, the worries have been swept away.  Nepo calls this "dreaming the fear from our hearts".  

So as I contemplate this frightened character and her nightmare, I consider one more Nepo-ism: ​"The things that frighten us just want to be held."  With that one sentence, the monsters are rendered small and in need of comfort, and the raven just a bird on a tree limb.
4 Comments
Carol Edan link
10/13/2017 03:06:46 am

It's all in your head! Close your eyes and it will go away! We don't celebrate Halloween here. Maybe a few but not many. My grandson caught on and wanted to carve a pumpkin, but alas nobody grows them here just those HUGE ones that aren't even orange more like a squash. I brought seeds from US this last trip, planted them too late so I hope maybe in November I'll have a few. Halloween has a new meaning now, it was my late sister's birthday and she is constantly in my thoughts. I wish I could put a pumpkin beside her stone, she loved the holiday and always made decorations.

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jen
10/13/2017 08:18:44 am

haaaa! I wish closing my eyes worked!

Pumpkin carving is messy but fun! Then roasting the seeds and eating them. Yum! Lots of people paint pumpkins (or gourds, as you described) instead of carving, so you could always do that with your grandson. I wish I could send you a pumpkin in memory of your sister...

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Dotty Seiter link
10/16/2017 10:02:49 am

hahaha! looks like we both posted big white chiclet teeth on the 12th!

---

Your closing lines bring to mind wisdom I heard when I was in the thick of the early years of raising my three kids. Another mother was struggling with the challenge of a 'clingy' young one and asked for help in how to get her child to leave her side and be more independent. Reply from yet another mom: Embrace him.

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jen
10/16/2017 01:02:13 pm

Kindred spirits, painting teeth? haha! One of the great mysteries of the universe. :)

Two of my children were clingy...and now I miss that so much. I wish I had embraced them every time. That is incredibly sage advice.

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Here's the blue wild, where
tiny dreamers ride beasts, speak
​ birdsong, hold the moon.

(by poet Mary W. Cox)
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​Art prints available on request
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