Doubt

 

So I come to you, dear reader(s), this evening after a somewhat difficult day. Although I enjoyed myself immensely with Brother Chip and his beautiful wife Kristen last night, I was disturbed to hear my dear niece Piper has fallen ill and is in the hospital. Prayers go out to Pipes, who I hope recovers soon. It’s strange, I was awoken near 6:00 a.m. this morning by dog Tebow barking, and when I crept downstairs to pet him he emitted a low growl, but then came up to me for a pet. Boo was completely silent, in her cage, allowing me to drink my morning Joe in peace.

After a wreck on Broad Street coming out of Granville was cleared, mom and I made it back to her place, then I continued home. I wanted to stay and work on my art, but a sense of doubt in my abilities had started to take root, hatched by an insidious creature who probably hitched a ride on mom’s bumper. I found anger, just irritability and discontent building inside of me—and I took it out on Michael, making childish demands about money I know he cannot fulfill presently. But I backed down after dear friend Alicia swooped in, offering to whisk me away to a staycation in a Dublin hotel next weekend. 

Presently this doubt in my artwork is kinda eating me up. My stuff is incomprehensible, it’s in your face, some is angry, some highlighting rejection, pain, loss, confusion, maybe insanity, maybe truth? I have this unbelievable anger with Facebook, Zoom bombers, most of 2016-2017, medication, psychiatrists, stigmatizers, MeToo, cancel culture, televised news, greedy sharks, just a host of characters. Sure, maybe it goes back to being mad at the trio of Dad, Uncle Bill and Papa, but no, that analysis is too fucking easy. 

I’m a mess tonight. Restless, irritable and discontent. Get my bed ready. Time for a Deep Sleep.