Last night I hung out with my friend Lisa, we had some dinner and wine and she taught me the pour painting technique that she does. Those are the two paintings I made. They take about two days to set, and they’ll continue to change until they’re dry. This is what the red and teal painting looked like an hour earlier:
I’m not sure I fully got the technique, at least not the mixing of the paint part. The paint gets mixed with a milky like substance that doesn’t dilute the color but helps create all of the “cells” that you see in the picture. You then layer the paints on top of each other in a cup, and pour (invert the cup on the canvas and lift) the paint out and tilt the canvas a bunch of different ways to let the puddle of paint cover the entire canvas. Being my first time, I didn’t experiment too much, but I would have been curious to see how different steps might have changed the painting. Could I alter the “flow” of the paint the way a rock or a stick diverts water in a stream? Overall, it’s a pretty freeing process, because short of the mixing and layering, you have very little control over the final product… In a way it’s a little like the enso circles – you just let the creation be what it will be. As I’m writing this, I’m thinking about my own psychology and thoughts. I’m thinking I like that I have no control, but what if I wanted to influence the outcome? How might that be done? What might a painting look like that isn’t layered in one blob, but instead done in smaller blob sections – as you can see, I’m using very technical terms.
Before heading over to Lisa’s I hung out with my friend Stacy at the Green Beetle for a few happy hour drinks. We talked about what I was going to do… I kept coming back to “I don’t know.” Stacy sometimes gets frustrated with me and my “living in between” philosophy, my “How to Like It” complications. I think she tries to project the freedoms she wants on to me – she sees my situation as being full of options – almost limitless. This is the space in between – more options than I can process, wanting everything and nothing all at the same time. Deep down, I think I know who I am. I think I know I’m best suited to a fairly rooted lifestyle… family, quiet breakfast in the morning, walk with the dog in the park type of life. I also have an adventurous side – I love to be a tourist in my own town, I like to visit other places and experience new things. I’d like to have someone to share that life with. I understand that I can’t make that my mission, and I have enough days where I just feel a little immovable on that front – I had it and maybe can’t get it back – lightening in a bottle. Jocelyn told me it might take me years – in another two months it’ll have been one year. Stacy said, “I can’t spend all of my time figuring out who I want to be.” She’s right, but I gently nudged for an exception. A year ago I got engaged and felt like I was exactly who I wanted to be and was the absolute best version of myself (with lots of room for improvement). I had no idea what the future held in terms of jobs or locations, and none of that mattered. In an effort to reinvent myself, I decided to forgo any type of relationship and throw myself in to something I enjoy (music). I moved everything down to Memphis, a new pursuit. Instead, what I got was a work environment that was pretty much the opposite of what I was looking for, and the very sobering realization of just how hard it is to establish new friends and new roots when you’re entirely on your own.
I’ve never really taken much time off between jobs, and part of me wants to just hit the road for a bit. Stacy suggested I travel and house/pet sit in different places to help pay the way (or at least cover lodging). I’ve joked that I’m going to see if I can get one of the dating apps to sponsor me to go on dates in every state. She invited me to go out to Vegas with her at the end of the month… I might just do it. I know I can spend some time with my dad in Clearwater next month. I’m thinking of buying a crappy little house in a not so great neighborhood so that I have a base of operations and won’t have a mortgage or rent. Of course, there is the very responsible side of me that says, just go out and get a job and wait for the rest to fall in to place. Memphis, Philly, State College, or the next stop. But if I’m being honest – that just feels boring and kinda backwards. That feels like pursuing things other than happiness. Yet…. the way our society is set up, I’m not exactly the best catch in this very moment. Unemployed and scratched and dented from past relationships. I don’t say that out of pity for myself, it’s the fact of where I am today. On the one hand, complete freedom – go wherever and do whatever. In some respects, a wild adventure with someone in a similar position sounds fun.
There’s a guy I met, Kendric. He met a woman in New Orleans. They had a great time together. She came here to Memphis for a week. Within a month he moved out to San Diego to be with her. From the sounds of it (according to his friend the bartender at the Beetle) Kendric isn’t so sure about that decision. I probably have that type of freedom – but I can’t possibly imagine doing things like that. On the other hand (sorry for the long aside about Kendric), I’m not a wealthy playboy who can just live off of my savings for the next few years. I worry and think about things like what does time off look like on my resume? Will getting off the treadmill prevent me from ever getting back on? According to all of the articles about “getting ahead” your 40s are your prime years to grow and earn and establish yourself… This makes me a little sad and feel a little hopeless. I’ve never been one to pursue wealth. As I get older, I’m realizing that I probably won’t have much (in terms of money) for the rest of my life. I’m trying to focus on the things that I can have, art, freedom of mind, good company, love. I assume a guy like Kendric has very little saved for his future – can he be a nomad and a bartender forever? What does his life look like when he’s 70? What do our lives look like in the now? A balancing act for sure.
I’ll try to view starting over as an opportunity. I’m happy to say that my confidence isn’t shaken – I know I’m capable and worthy as an employee, partner, and person – how and where to direct those capabilities is what I need to think about. Or…. maybe I just pour the blob of paint that I am out on to the canvas, let the pigments mix in unexpected ways, let gravity and time shape me without resistance or intention.