I spent my Thanksgiving vacation painting, writing and playing tennis (yes! in the cold wind...it was awesome.) I attacked with the paintbrush my Delphinus Bloom sketch, which I am sorry to say I didn't photograph as purely a sketch...but it is coming to life slowly. I do it in steps...always the person, last. That's the part I want to get perfectly right. I've been writing a story of regarding my other two paintings, Lady Cecilia and the troubled, scandalized Lord Rosemont. You know they were meant to be, but how they meet isn't exactly pretty and it isn't isn't sparks and fireworks. But it will be, oh, you know it will be.
Do you think the creative rush is in replacement of my inability to go Christmas shopping due to severe lack of funds? Boy, did I feel the pull of pressure from television, ads that were jammed in my newspaper, radio announcers and even relatives on Thanksgiving Day going through my flyers of advertising planning their 4 am attack on Black Friday. I have no money to spare at this time, with health bills piling up, etc...and I started to feel...guilty. Jealous. I was missing out on something. Ridiculous. But I did feel it.
I did what I could do. Paint. Write and had a ball playing tennis with my family. We all felt so invigorated and refreshed. Creating something and watching it turn into something that is appealing, alluring, and attractive with colors that make you smile is a reward you can't buy. Well, you can buy paintings, but to create something yourself is a fantastic feeling...same for writing...putting characters and twisting plots to life transferring from your brain to paper is an amazing feat. It didn't exist before, the people, the characters, the places, their stories, and then type away. Voila! There it is! A story.
It was definitely stress relieving...creating in any way, even body movement is a release. Emotion...means to feel... up and out.....emotions must run through us and out into the universe, otherwise we get blocked and feel awful.
I think I better get painting after I'm done writing here. I have some "stuff" that needs to get out!!!
Peace.
Feeling Powerful
Watercolor Fashion Moment
Showing posts with label physical exercise as stress relief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label physical exercise as stress relief. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Touched by a University of VA Angel Today
After the violent and tragic murder of Yeardley Love, a senior University of Virginia lacrosse player by George Huguely, a senior University of Virginia lacrosse player, I didn’t know how I’d feel or what to expect when I watched both teams play.
I remembered a scandal with Duke University men’s lacrosse players and how it gave lacrosse a bad name, a privileged arrogance and disregard for others. This event was completely different. The feelings of pain, grief, befuddlement and a numbing shock that was written all over the faces of the Men’s lacrosse players when they hit the field was obvious, but I wasn’t expecting the loving supportive family-like feeling that the young men were showing to Yeardley Love, her family, and their fellow “sisters” of lacrosse, the women’s lax team. They had on their shirts 1 Y L, unified in their love, their support, and their commitment to rise to be the best of humanity and show reverence to their lost sister. They played their hearts out. The speed, the power, the ferocity of their play unleashed their pent up anger, sadness, confusion and grief. I loved how the coach said to the boys that I don’t care really how you play, but I want us to win so we can stay together another week. They need each other. They need the safe cocoon of their team setting to keep it together, to talk to one another, to console one another, and even to simply shake their heads to one another in disbelief that one of their own is sitting in a jail cell and that one of their beloved sisters was gone. They may still be in the denial stage of grief mixed with anger. The next stage is depression and it is far better to have a huge support system around them then to be heading home – alone.
Today, the U Va girls’ lax team hit the field against Towson. They struck hard right out of the gate with three goals in a row. Again, the physical energy was the release they needed after they buried a friend, a roommate, a graduating classmate and a close teammate. I watched them carefully. At times they smiled after a goal, but it quickly disappeared; that’s right. Yeardley is not here. When they were moving and running like gazelles, their mind was 100% on the game, but if they paused, or there was a stop in play, a numb glaze crossed their faces; the horrific events still lingered. As much as they tried to tuck away their pain, it never really is buried down too deep. Grief never really goes away. Even after three and half years after losing my mother, it catches me off guard, grief, and tears will slide down my face. It resurfaces when, I guess it needs to.
What was really cool and sweet for the girls, were in the bleachers were a section where the boys lacrosse players watched and cheered on their girls. It was awesome. You see, the bad guys aren’t “Lacrosse” or “The Boys’ Lacrosse Team.” There is one bad guy here, an individual named George. The teams are in it together and are working their grief through together. Even more amazing was Yeardley’s mom, brother and sister were in the bleachers watching, too. Amazing. I’m surprised the mom could even walk mired in her grief, but she was there. Perhaps she felt that is where her daughter would be if she were alive, and/or in spirit. I think she was right. An angel was among them. The girls won and held signs with a large bold “1” on them. Even more impressive was the gesture of The Towson team giving to every member of the U Va team a pin of an angel holding a lacrosse stick. Wow. Enough said. - SSdh
I remembered a scandal with Duke University men’s lacrosse players and how it gave lacrosse a bad name, a privileged arrogance and disregard for others. This event was completely different. The feelings of pain, grief, befuddlement and a numbing shock that was written all over the faces of the Men’s lacrosse players when they hit the field was obvious, but I wasn’t expecting the loving supportive family-like feeling that the young men were showing to Yeardley Love, her family, and their fellow “sisters” of lacrosse, the women’s lax team. They had on their shirts 1 Y L, unified in their love, their support, and their commitment to rise to be the best of humanity and show reverence to their lost sister. They played their hearts out. The speed, the power, the ferocity of their play unleashed their pent up anger, sadness, confusion and grief. I loved how the coach said to the boys that I don’t care really how you play, but I want us to win so we can stay together another week. They need each other. They need the safe cocoon of their team setting to keep it together, to talk to one another, to console one another, and even to simply shake their heads to one another in disbelief that one of their own is sitting in a jail cell and that one of their beloved sisters was gone. They may still be in the denial stage of grief mixed with anger. The next stage is depression and it is far better to have a huge support system around them then to be heading home – alone.
Today, the U Va girls’ lax team hit the field against Towson. They struck hard right out of the gate with three goals in a row. Again, the physical energy was the release they needed after they buried a friend, a roommate, a graduating classmate and a close teammate. I watched them carefully. At times they smiled after a goal, but it quickly disappeared; that’s right. Yeardley is not here. When they were moving and running like gazelles, their mind was 100% on the game, but if they paused, or there was a stop in play, a numb glaze crossed their faces; the horrific events still lingered. As much as they tried to tuck away their pain, it never really is buried down too deep. Grief never really goes away. Even after three and half years after losing my mother, it catches me off guard, grief, and tears will slide down my face. It resurfaces when, I guess it needs to.
What was really cool and sweet for the girls, were in the bleachers were a section where the boys lacrosse players watched and cheered on their girls. It was awesome. You see, the bad guys aren’t “Lacrosse” or “The Boys’ Lacrosse Team.” There is one bad guy here, an individual named George. The teams are in it together and are working their grief through together. Even more amazing was Yeardley’s mom, brother and sister were in the bleachers watching, too. Amazing. I’m surprised the mom could even walk mired in her grief, but she was there. Perhaps she felt that is where her daughter would be if she were alive, and/or in spirit. I think she was right. An angel was among them. The girls won and held signs with a large bold “1” on them. Even more impressive was the gesture of The Towson team giving to every member of the U Va team a pin of an angel holding a lacrosse stick. Wow. Enough said. - SSdh
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)