Day 07

Day 07 - A picture that shows your true self.


Hmmmm. True Self, eh? I suppose that would be a picture of me curled up with some funyons and a trashy novel...

You know, i went through all the recent pics of me, and the not so recent, to find a pic that represented who i feel that i am. And none of them did. Oh sure--there are some cute ones of a particular smirk or irreverent look, and those were definitely in the top ten. But they were take years ago, before marriage, before child & pet, and definitely before Autism. Now, that isn't to say that smirks and irreverence are dead in this house--au contraire, but a certain level of maturity and acceptance got thrown into the mix, along with its corresponding stress and frustration. (the grown-ups were right when we were kids--being grown up isn't as much fun as it seems)

So a picture of the real me. Again, a series of photos this time...

The real me nourishes my family. I spend ALOT of time in the kitchen, creating and cleaning. I make my family's bread bi-weekly--and when Ben was GF, that included his GF bread. I make most meals from scratch, or semi scratch. Hippie/kitchen witch that i am, i just feel this is the most tangible way to show my love to my family.

The other part of me, when i'm not partaking in floortime, ABA, or general rambunctiosness (of which there are no pics) i am in my studio, creating. And it is where i feel really calm. I suppose i am more of a "crafter" than "artist"--but those kinds of labels don't mean shit to me. I like making things with my hands. I like creating garments for myself, my family and others (for a price, mind). I am a
bit of a whore for that phrase or look that says "oh wow, you MADE this?" It's prolly a good thing that my studio is two floors below me and unsafe for my child, otherwise, i'd drag him down there with me all the time (trust me, the day is coming, once he understands the danger of the iron--and has a place of his own to create or play)and we'd never do the things he wants to do.

I suppose a final pic, that doesn't exist, would be of me hunched over my laptop, typing furiously. Also my escape/release, i write nearly everyday. Again--creating something with my hands, kinda. Writing has been with me since i was a child, writing poems and stories. Even in those days i was a barfly--y journal was always with me, as i eviscerated the sausages in print. (kept me from talking to people too, which was a plus) But alas--no photos

Because it turns out, the camera is usually in my hands--thus the lack of photos in my natural state. And considering the current state of my ass, i like it that way.