stronger!

I hauled out the woodstove bits from the garage today.  There's the tiny stove, it's about 20#, and there's big slabs of granit, each is around 40-60lbs.  I hauled them mostly with a hand truck but lifted each myself into the bus. I was so shocked at how light they felt!  Yes of course it was a hernia popper, so that's too bad but in fact, the damn thing can't get much worse and I pop it back in after with massage and laying back. I can't possibly get strong if I have to follow restrictions on that anyway. I need to be strong again! Well that's just it, those stones felt so light!  I haven't been working out that much or hauling around that much but my kayak too feels light.  It's amazing.  Things feel about as light as they did when I was still fairly healthy.

I'm discovering that my posture has been terrible because it's caused a pinched nerve in one arm. This is not harmful but quite uncomfortable, so it does get in the way. The solution is to correct my posture.  But as Dan once said to me, gravity has a better memory than me!  So it's slow.  The problem has especially affected my spinning and was probably exacerbated    by spinning with bad posture in the first place!

I'm taking an art class and totally didn't grok how much money the materials might cost. There's these dye sticks at $20 a color, gel plates at $70 each, then the paints I have to buy having given mine to Tom that they might see use, those are probably $12 each and I need a minimum of four.  Then there's ink sticks. And then there's yet another brand of dye powder. All while I"m facing a potentially high bill on my car next month, she's definitely got a problem, and currently going through divorce!  The papers arrived in the mail and I'm arranging for this sunday to serve them as it's the most likely time to make it work.  I can't think about it calmly!

His approach is pure stubborn refusal to comply.  His primary approach to all requests, demands, anything not involving his trade and even then it has to be part of the work order alone. You try and say anything, he diva's off the scene and someone else has to finish. 

so tired. So stressed.

Well I'm skipping the gel plates and the dye sticks and we'll see how I can best get 2 ink pencils and 4 paint bottles in compliance.   I've decided to try and squeeze it in under $50, but then the following week, the stakes go up AGAIN!  Then, we need these funky dyes.  I'm hoping my collection of tulip and dylon cold dyes will suffice instead. I suspect they will, as they are already cold water powder dyes.  

But phew, it's been a thing collecting stuff from around the house to fill out the list out of my own belongings as it is!  I mean, I saw the class price and thought, yeah, that's affordable.  One could easily triple it buying all the gear.  I should remember that this is a good exercise for several things. Resisting frustration or self pity Resourcefulness and invention.  Creativity and art. And I don't have to DO all the things to learn them. I can learn by watching. Should I choose this gel plate printing technique in the future, I"ll be ready.  I can certainly see using it on a warp for a deadly fabric.  Yes, I already looked it up on line.  She had incorrect terms on the supply list so it took me some time to guess what she wanted, and in the process, I learned about the technique she's teaching. I didn't just take this class for learning, though, also for social practice, and a break from the stress here on a weekly basis.  

My class goal is to practice remembering that this is not a class for Joe to show and tell or get anything except learning of whatever he doesn't already know. I am quickly made aware that my art knowlege level is really actually quite high compared to the requirement for the class as we cover things I learned in grade nine and tackle inner mind problems I solved a decade or more ago.  It's making me wonder, how formidable of an artist am I actually?  Nobody ever really sees my work, and it's never been compiled into a body of work. Those who do see my work only do so because I give them something, and that's all they see.   

I don't get more than the correct kind responses to my gifts, and of course can't know which are authentic, and which are not. Which is anxiety making.  I never feel certain my gift was liked. Sometimes I severely regret giving it, thinking it may have wound up a white elephant when I would have happily enjoyed and used it. I give away things I think are splendid as often as things I don't want. Like that fabric to Kris. Did it ever get used?  I'll never know, I guess. or the painting to Jean Marie, did it ever get loved?  I think he did say he loved it at a party, and it was out in use, so, ok. 

My gifts are coloured by how people feel about me personally, so that doesn't help.

The instructor in this class clocked me instantly.  She worked with me for a few years back in the 90s or early 2000s.  Well I denied any knowlege, because the first noise out of her mouth was my dead name! Like yeah, going to be sensitive about this, are you?  Whatever, I'm not copping to whatever history you remember about me. She's dead. IF you ever draw close to me, instead of this distant acquaintance as fellow citizens, well we can talk about it.

Thing is, I don't want to connect with the past. I know this lady, and that she's a pleasant person, and I'm learning more about her as an artist. That's enough. It's interesting. I find her methods and media very different and therefor interesting. 

I'm under no illusions that friendships should be expected here.  I'm the only man, and I"m also in the closet, stealth, playing mum, whatever. I spent break on my phone in the bathroom, not on purpose, but because facebook is like that.  But I really enjoyed the break from being "on" the whole time as I have to be around others, especially a group. It's like I have to fire up a steam engine generator to run the social program or something.

Yah, so I'm getting stronger, that's awesome. I guess I"m one of those cancer success stories, but it will have more impact in thirty years? 

I explained my belief to my doctor yesterday.  I told him how I believed I was fated to a long life, a specific length, and that I believed I could affect the quality, but not the length. Then, I said, whether I"m right or not, treating my body like it has another fifty years to go is a smart move.  He agreed on that one, but had chuckled at the idea someone would know the length of his life.  Hehe, that's ok. I'm not here to prove anything, I know what I know, and I choose not to request proof of myself. Because I believe in faeries. :-)