Day 138 – 140, December 12, 2016 @4:52 pm
Some days I wonder: For what purpose was I born? Today, I wonder that and: For what purpose am I doing this year of change? Today, I wonder: Have I made any difference? What I know for sure today is: I am not in a peaceful happy space. Today, I wonder: What do these people want from me? What does the world want? When will everything just blow up since there is so much PUNCH, BANG, KA-KA-KA out there? Why don’t we just get it over with – delete and start again. If only it is as simple as that. And so, I continue to sling paint onto the canvas. I could get bolder and throw fistfuls at it. I can be the New Age Edvard Munch. I wish that it was me who had painted The Scream. I want to scream.

I’m not that far gone, as you can see. My painting is nowhere’s near the fright of The Scream. I’m just talking out of my hat/my purple haze. I should have kept the snakes and vipers. Munch is my new hero. I want to paint like him. I quote him –

“No longer shall I paint interiors with men reading and women knitting. I will paint living people who breathe and feel and suffer and love.”

Lofting aspirations, but I am talking out of my hat, through a purple haze. I am one of those knitting women. I wouldn’t want to obliterate me. But who knows. Strange things happen when you put words onto a page.

Guess what? I am feeling better. I’ve stopped screaming. I don’t wonder anymore. What do I care? I just do. I just be. That is purpose enough.  Onward, James! Tomorrow is another day. I can anguish some more then.