It’s interesting that I had 10 months to address my sleep issues. Blog it out or whatever it was going to take to discover what is at the root. Here I am back at it with a school schedule wake up time of 5AM and barely getting 5 hours a night despite my best efforts. I will adjust and things that were once odd will become the norm. I am, after all, the same person I have always been. Poco a poco. But when I think of my days it is rare that I also don’t want them to last longer. Hold off the next day as long as possible.
Generally this is some result of being alone and enjoying the feeling of comfort. I am my only challenger so I direct the conversations in my head where I will them. Today I came home in a taxi so I could lay down for a nap. I was starting to drift off at work. I am anxious a bit because I know there is new work I want to produce and I know there are things I need to do first to prepare. Then I lay in bed and my mind is designing the interior of my gothic front doors to the apartment. Yep. My empty mind starts to paint the doors and imagine the space. Then it needs a boundary and next comes the….so on. I laid there for over an hour lost in my creative mind. Sort of a meditation. Not controlling it. Stream of consciousness as it were. Allowing myself to image the possibilities. It got so deep my excitement over an idea actually pushes me out of the meditative space. I got out of bed and came up to my studio.
I am dying to do these new pieces. Generally I start at poster size and then go larger. I laugh at myself because it’s funny to me that poster size is now small to me. How things change. Focus back and remember the conversation I had on Saturday with my friend Cristian. The motivating factor in my work all those year ago as a tourist here was billboards. Billboards above the street and on the street level, but the scale of billboards. I was recalling that it was how in Mexico City they are metal, thin stripped vertical planks, that pieced together create the overall scale. The thing is each piece has aged and petinaed at their own rates, varying in remainders from previous advertisements. That makes me tingle. It’s a gigantic public art piece dismissed on first glance for it’s lack of formality. To me a museum of urban life. An orgasm of life evidenced for all to see.
\How does that get buried under daily details of life? This idea so powerful I was willing to quit a career pathway I’d invested so much of myself into, sale everything, and move to Mexico. How does that get buried and then rediscovered over and over again? I spend so much time capturing all these textures and colors to paint and mix. I pull all my resources and uproot my life to reinvest in an idea that I am not conscious of. I then wonder why I don’t want to sleep when I should be and sleep when I should be otherwise.
It’s not a riddle, but if I don’t write it down I won’t remember it tonight when I am struggling to sleep. I am just putting it out there. You are driving down the highway. Maybe you’re stuck in traffic. Instead of seeing another add for coca cola you see these large scale paintings aging and living in their environment. There for you to distain or admire.
Where is the institutional memory? How do I keep this brain afloat with such poor management skills?
I think it keeps me awake. I need to get better at documenting