What’s that old saying? When it rains it pours? Isn’t that just like life. Some elevated form of consciousness and emotion has found its way into my head and heart. Well, I’m sensitive anyway. But these days my ultra-soft underbelly feels even softer than usual. Kind of like Jello. The reasons are not a mystery. First, there were my romantic frustrations, then Royalyne died, then just today I received news that another model coordinator – one I absolutely adore – is leaving his position for greener pastures. It’s a big blow and it breaks my heart, but I wish him the best of luck and success in his new job. Pile onto all that a particularly heightened state of feeling the past couple of weeks, during which I’ve been harboring very strong inexplicable attachments toward certain people, an obsessive dependency on my job (which is starting to border on a love/hate thing), and weighty thoughts about my future and larger purpose in life. Yeah, you know. Those nagging “big” thoughts. They suck. They’re such a drag. Like pulling a ball and chain around on your leg all day.
I don’t know what’s going on with me. It’s not the “beast”, thank god. That’s a whole different ballgame. What’s happening now feels like . . . strife. A quiet, simmering strife. Maybe I’m just going through a phase. But I’m ok, friends, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m one of those people who are confused, fragile, and delicate during individual moments or days, but resilient in the long run.
I worked tonight at Spring Studios, and posing there was a good thing for me. Outwardly, I was my usual warm and vivacious self. But up on the platform, the truth was likely revealed to the ever-perceptive artists who draw there. Remember: art models can’t hide. We can try, but we really can’t. It’s just a hopeful delusion of people like us who willingly expose ourselves. You can’t expect to have the glory, attention, and admiration and then also expect the vulnerabilities and insecurities to sleep through the show. Ain’t gonna happen.
Jordan Mejias, a friend of mine who runs most of the Monday and Tuesday sessions, made two watercolors of me tonight that I thought really captured my moody, whirling inner state. You can see it in the first one especially. A touch of darkness, a touch of disquiet, a touch of something that isn’t calm, isn’t serene, isn’t at peace. A woman grappling.