That feeling of winter hibernation seems to be lifting, thankfully. Despite having a light winter with very little snow (knock on wood) it HAS been a long, cold, dark winter and I am glad to see it go. Onward to spring! The sun is up and out ahead of me this morning as I sip a coffee and wait for the morning pain and stiffness to move along. And wait. Might be a double cappuccino morning today. 

As my friends know, I'm a frequent Facebook user. I check in a few times a day, noting interesting posts, keeping in touch with friends and family in ways I would not otherwise be able to do. I learn things, too -- so many things! Great art links, Squeeze links, book links, bird links, now guinea pig links. So much information is out there and FB is one avenue that provides it. Do I trust all the "news?" No. Do I see amazing art and learn a lot? Yes! 

Which is why I found it laughable that I had a realization recently that I do not really represent myself as an artist on Facebook. I have always lumped my personal in with my artistic, as they are all lumped up within me, but have had this other page with art on it and very few posts. When I view other artist's facebook pages, I am always impressed with the clear stream of artwork - no parrots, no guinea pigs, no posts that are angry about losing time to chronic pain. Just art. This blog is evidence of the identity mish mash - as has been pointed out to me by at least one unpleasant reader. I whine, whine, whine, then mention art, then whine again about how I can't do all I'd like, then whine again. And mention a parrot or five in the process. Is it possible to separate the art from the person? Should there be a difference?  I ponder. 

So, I have renamed my "Amy Ropple" facebook page which I considered to be my "Art" page, but had almost nothing on it, to "Amy Ropple Artist" and will be hopefully streamlining what I post on FB in a more organized way, and sharing more art in the process.  So if you are into my art, but annoyed by the rest of it, "Like" and follow THAT page instead of my regular one. I have to make a conscious effort to post there as I am so used to having one page up and running, but think over time it will be worth it.  Next big job will be to figure out Instagram, as that is where all the "kids" and my friends are at (lol!)

It is spring at Ropple Manor, and as I write the monotonous shrill of unrequited Quaker parrot love is filling the air like sandpaper on silk. It. never. stops.  My two boys, Boncuk and Zaza, are in love and bonded, but lately Zaza has taken to pouncing on Boncuk and plucking his feathers, pecking at him, and being too dominant a partner. I separate them, and they both scream. I put them together, and they scream. Basically they just scream. This is an unpleasant fact of spring, but I still will take it over the cold of winter. Cheers! 

The creative whirlwind continues! 

After three great days at school filled with drawing, weaving, digital art, and fun middle schoolers, I was given a two day reprieve to attend the National Art Education Association national convention in Boston with my colleague.  It was filled with ideas for new approaches to the methodology and content of what I teach, and getting to spend literally hours in the vendors' hall learning about new materials (and collecting more than a few samples!) was inspiring. Watching hundreds, or thousands, of art teachers get into the same thing was great, too. I am grateful to have such administrative support that would send us there to keep the creative fires burning in our art rooms. 

In addition to all of the learning, I was happy to make a few new connections with places where I might be able to connect with as an artist. More details to come, after a few proposals get mailed out...cross fingers!

The drawback to attending this jam-packed couple of days was the physical and mental payback. Slept like a zombie, and am still recovering! Unfathomable tiredness, full on body pain (imagine a really bad flu, here), and a massive back up of things to get done this weekend. Ugh! It was worth it, though. I love Boston and spending time there is fun and visually entertaining, to say the least. I brought one of my little sketchbooks and did some stitching into it during some down time, which helped keep me awake. I hope to be more charged up by tomorrow, as today I still feel like I'm at about 40%.

Happy day yesterday with my virtual pal April the Giraffe. For the second time she waited until a Saturday to give birth. Yesterday I watched with thousands of others as little hooves emerged from her nether regions, followed by a nose, the head, the shoulders, then whooooosh, the rest of the new little baby giraffe. It is a very special experience to be able to watch such a beautiful event. Is it worth the drive and time to go to the animal park to visit the mama and baby in person this summer? Mayyyybe! I wanted to see the last baby but never did...here's another chance? If I can dare to take it, and risk being on the road for a long time in a car and getting hit with incapacitating fatigue and/or pain. Such is life...always a risk that planned trips and events will become difficult and unenjoyable at minimum, dangerous at max. Still...that mama giraffe face is the sweetest thing I've seen since Tilly's morning yawn. 

Onward to a St. Patrick's day that will hopefully be filled with a balance of art, rest, and the domestic duties that are mandatory for basic survival. Cheerio!

Acceptance. Maybe.

What does it mean to truly be accepting of a reality that can't be ignored? I think of the movie title "I'm Dancing as Fast as I Can" -- and feel like this is how I have approached things in my life lately. Keep all the balls in the air at once, and make it happen.  Tired? Just. Keep. Going. Feeling physically sick? Just. Keep. Going. Stressed out? Just. Keep. Going. Overwhelmed? Just. Keep. Going. Eventually you get through things by putting one foot in front of the other and just making progress. 

Have been told since birth by culture that it is possible to do anything and everything, and this has become an internal expectation, to some degree. One of my students commented on their supposed ability to "Go out there and influence the world" in big ways, saying it was a lot of pressure and was an unrealistic expectation to begin with. Wise words from youth! While I know I will never be an NBA star or neurosurgeon, I realize I have placed a lot of expectations on myself to "be" a lot of things in my little world, and while I love all the things, I might have developed very unrealistic expectations along the way.  I have so many interests -- passions, really -- and try to learn and do as much as possible with the little life I've been given.  

But there are limits.

Looking back at the past few months I see that I have physically hit the wall with an unending RA flare and biologic medications that are not doing much of anything. Every day has been a difficult mix of severe soreness and stiffness, lots of jarring pain, and fatigue. Oh, the fatigue. My response has been to respond to the physical situation only when against the wall, when pushing back has become almost impossible. Have my expectations for myself changed, along with this uptick in disease activity? Nope. Why should they change? We have to have goals, right? Always strive to do better, be better, live better?  My strategy has been to fight against the limits, alone and hard, but I think I need a change from that, now. 

What has changed is an increase of a feeling of futility, negative thinking, and depression. There, I said it. It has been a rough few months, folks.  The "D" word.  Maybe it is the RA, maybe it is the weather and time of year. Maybe it is a lot of things. My art space is underused and disorganized. I have about five sketchbooks and writing books underway, and a daily planner that I have abandoned for a month.  I have scoured the Internet and voraciously read amazing art books. I have ideas, so many ideas, but the energy, time and space to bring them to fruition just hasn't materialized. It has made me sad.

I feel like my ability to “do it all” has changed. I want to be able to teach more, do more, live more, but just can’t see beyond the next nap I have to take.  I am a disappointment to myself, and hate the fact that I am not in control of my own time and physicality. I know it isn't "my fault" that I am not up to snuff physically, but that doesn't change the fact that I am not functioning at 100% right now.  That I can not seem to eek out the time and space to create the artwork that I dream about. I feel like that past few months have been a battle between functional survival and the need for sleep. It is hard to think about art when your brain is so, so tired and your body is aching all over, every day. Every day.  Think Maslow's hierarchy of needs, here.

The effects of carrying around pain and exhaustion are cumulative and I think I've just hit the wall.  It IS depressing to not be able to do what your heart and soul needs to do to be happy. I have seriously thought about giving up all my art stuff -- selling off machines, fabric, beads, everything -- and just starting over as a non-art person. Would there be less stress and less pain? Maybe, for a while.  Just focusing on basic daily needs would be enough. For a while. 

But I know that can't happen.  I am too entangled in my love for threads and artmaking to walk away. It is my support beyond all others. I think that I just need to acknowledge that I've crossed a line with this health thing, and it is starting to get the better of me. If I am not careful, the guilt over not being artistically productive will eat away at my sense of self. It already has, to some degree. I have to let go of the guilt and personal artistic expectations that I've held onto for so long, and realize that getting anything done is an accomplishment, no matter how small. I can't compare what I do now to what I used to do, as the me that is forced to accept limits is not the same person. Who knows...maybe if I lower expectations a bit, more might be accomplished? 

The purpose of this post is not to complain or solicit empathy. I just feel the need to explain my lack of productivity, mostly to myself, and this blog is my vehicle for doing that. While it should be showcasing recent artworks on a monthly basis, it feels like one long whine, caused by the friction of looming physical decline. 

All of this being said, I am still working - most recently on a series of stitched still life pieces of, of all things, my kitchen knife rack. The irony is not lost on me. I'll be participating in Wakefield's Art and Edibles art show this week and these pieces will be on display. I am not sure they are really "finished" as they are samples for my UK textile art class, but the current form will just have to do. 

Like a lot of things, I think. Cheers.