i figure if i wasn't called to paint, i'd probably be a writer. another very solitary way to revel in imagination and play, and getting lost in words.... words like these, by pablo neruda (1904 - 1973)
If You Forget Me
I want you to know
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
(and here's that part that speaks to me, i know this feeling well ::))
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
if each day,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
funny that it took me so long to realize i'm not shy, i'm just an introvert.
i can get up in front of a classroom and give a speech like no other, rather i choose not to... and that's why painting and writing appeal to me. it's a solitary activity that requires nobody but me.
i didn't realize how very much of an introvert i was until i went to north carolina to be with some friends and take a class. being with people all day in a tiny classroom, and then going out to dinner with lots of people i hardly knew, and having to socialize all day was absolutely killing me. i couldn't excuse myself because there wasn't any place else to go. i remember sitting at the dinner table with about 15 lovely women at a nice restaurant, and there was lots of chatting and laughing and drinking wine and making merry.... and the entire while, i was planning my escape. how the hell do i get outta here. the talking and the laughing became so incredibly loud, that everything became a blur. at that point i just totally zoned out thinking of all the other things i would have rather been doing.
i'm sure the ladies thought i was a snob, or socially inept, or worse. but it wasn't anything against any one, but for the fact i had had too much talking, and socializing for one day, and just needed time to retreat. it was no wonder i was getting wicked headaches.
being an introvert doesn't mean i don't like being social. I like to be social.... for a little while, but i also really love getting back home to be still. i hate the feeling of having to be 'on' all the time. i find it so fucking exhausting, mentally and physically.
oh but nothing kills me more then when people ask me, 'are you ok? are you sure?', or 'come on cheer up, smile'. huhhhh... who said i was unhappy... or that something was wrong.
and please... please don't ask me to small talk. haaaaate small talk. so pointless and boring. if i don't have anything interesting to say to you than i won't say it. that's all. i'm not being rude, or arrogant i just don't want to waste either of our energy on the banality of small talk.
i am what i am.
it is what it is.
whatever it is.