Since this is a blog about the effect of art on my nagging chronic Bipolar disorder, I might as well spout about my moods once in a while. Today I am as normal as can be expected. I did wake up at 5 a.m. without the alarm and did WANT to paint but was scared to death to touch the Silas painting for fear that I would ruin it before class tomorrow...when it is due. My artist friend Dan Joyce thinks I need to darken the face and leave the rest lighter...or something like that. I think I need HELP from someone in class to do this right. It is weird for me to be afraid to paint. But, other than that, I'm feeling fine today...yesterday was another story.
I was very depressed again yesterday. There were some family triggers for my depression which make logical sense, but I don't like that I am still getting THAT depressed when I'm on a boatload of meds. I was too depressed yesterday to go to Yoga...which is bad, very bad. I was too depressed to read, even though I made it to the library and checked out a collection of Short Stories. I'm an avid short story reader, for those who don't know me well. If you know any good short story authors, please turn me on to them. I do read a lot when I'm at a stable place mentally. I actually think I'm going to go on Amazon right now and buy a used Chagall book. I'm picking him as my artist to emulate in the latter part of the Fullerton College Watercolor class.
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