I have been suffering from extreme peaks and valleys of emotion. I never had this experience before. I have had others, but not this one. Some days I get out of bed and tend to chores and maybe even do a little handwork or sewing. Other days, the blueness sinks down into my soul and limbs and I find it hard to get out of bed. I sink down under the covers, surrounded by pillows and cover my face from the bright world outside of my window. I never want to leave the bed. I force myself into the shower as the hour approaches when everyone returns home. I try to look like I have been productive. Sometimes I make a nice dinner to fool everyone. After dinner it is all I can do to stay out of the bed. There have been many days when I look at the clock and think, "Is 6:30 too early to go to bed?"
Today was one of the later days. I had an appointment at 1:30 and was forced to leave the house. I showered and dressed and drove downtown. All I could think of was how I guilty I felt for wasting the day away. I should be sewing, or cleaning, or reading, or painting.
I had a terrifying realization today. I am afraid to paint. I am afraid of what I will paint. The last two major paintings I completed seemed to manifest themselves in my life. I painted the Crucifixion of Christ and The Burning of Joan Of Arc. I am afraid of what I will paint now. I have felt crucified recently, I have felt as though I have been burned at the stake. So, I am afraid. Afraid of what will come.
Maybe I will sew instead...