I’ve not been in a great frame of mind lately. I’ve tried writing a bunch of posts about it, but they all sound whiny and oozing with negativity. I don’t think it’s any one thing that’s got me feeling so blah, but a combination of factors, including the change of seasons which never agrees with me. The trees are lovely, and I do like wearing jeans, but it’s cold, and it’s dark, and I hate it. I’ve also been cranky about Diabetes Awareness Month or National Diabetes Month or American Diabetes Month or whatever the heck you want to call it, but if I tell you about it, this will devolve into one of the aforementioned whiny posts I’ve been trying to avoid.
In lieu of writing, I’ve been drawing. When I was a kid, through high school, and through college, I drew all the time. Forgive me for sounding like I’m full of myself – trust me, lately, I’ve been been feeling quite un-full of myself – but I was very skilled at drawing back in the day. I got bored with it though, and just kind of stopped. I much prefer tactile materials – paint, clay, collage, fabric, beads, glitter – and drawing just doesn’t appeal to my senses as much as other things. I’m doing a postcard exchange in the art therapy community now though, and I’m concerned that the materials I favor won’t hold up well if I hand them over to the US Postal Service, so I’ve returned to drawing, at least temporarily. The problem is that I like the drawings I’ve done too much to send them, so I need to make copies or something, but that’s beside the point. I’ve dubbed the series on which I’ve been laboring, “Postcards from My Pancreas”, and since motivation to write continues to elude me, hopefully this will suffice for the present time.