Nothing new here, I've just been struggling lately with a pretty equal division of good days, bad days and mediocre days and not being able to do much on either the mediocre or the bad ones. This means the good days tend to require much of me in the way of shopping, cooking, dishes, laundry, paper work and assorted business in which I am usually behind, and a once a week lunch with my parents. Toss in a couple of birthday celebrations, appointments and the hiring of new cleaning help and that's pretty much been my life for the past month. It feels quite overwhelming but if I'm good at anything it's just plugging along. I'm not quite as good at dealing with guilt and anything which is not getting my full attention or whatever degree of attention I believe it should tends to weigh on me. Learning not to let this happen is a work in progress. I'm getting there but it's probably two steps forward and one back. What fun would life be if it weren't a journey, a learning process, an experience of discovery? In all honesty, I like who I am, but I will never ever live up to all of my own expectations. I've got the bar set too high. I know this, but that doesn't make it something I can instantly internalise and act on.
Not only am I not getting all the 'shoulds' dealt with, I'm not getting all the 'wants' done either. I try to remind myself that it's a journey without a destination. I just keep going, do my best with each step and consider each place I arrive at the place I want to be.
Being the muller-over that I am, (if there is a better word for that I have lost it) I tend to arrive at epiphanies which seem like I just woke up one morning and understood. Although I know it's not actually true, it seems as though I just woke up one morning and realised I was in a bad marriage and needed out. That was five years ago and in those five years I've been on an extensive personal journey (I am cringing at the clichés here) trying to find myself again. Of course I was never really lost and yesterday I woke up knowing exactly who I am. Or maybe it was the day before. In reality it has of course been a process and this blog has only been part of that process for the past year and a half.
It's a bit of an odd concept to think that there are people reading this. A blog audience is mainly invisible and I don't think I have fully grasped that this is as public a space as it is. Or rather, I imagine it as an empty public space, as though I am standing in the middle of the town square talking but everyone is at home. The people who take the time to leave me comments and whose blogs I also try to read, give me some sense of an audience but it never feels totally solid and I think I have failed at what I set out to do. I started this blog wondering if I could write for a specific audience but without any sort of monetary incentive I don't think I can. It doesn't seem to be in me to have an actual theme to this blog or to remain with it consistently. If it's other purpose was to help me on my journey, what am I to do now that I feel I've mainly arrived?
Having just woken up and understood who I am, or found myself, or reclaimed myself or whatever we want to call it (I am as yet quite undecided) I now feel immensely satisfied and incredibly dull. I love my life but it is a quiet one, looking much the same from day to day and I have little inclination to document it. If I can fit it in, if I have the mental and/or physical stamina, my main desire is to spend my time painting, reading or writing. Sometimes I want to share what I am working on and sometimes I do not. The frequency at which that might happen is probably not high, and I am doubtful about the interest of what appears to be a group of followers/readers numbering anywhere from 25-100. Yes, it's a small-time blog that's certain.
My interest in clothing has waned significantly and although the idea of anyone following me for style guidance is laughable, I believe a good portion of my readers were here to watch that journey. I am happy to post pictures of my mistakes, terrible poses and smirking or grimacing face. Ironically, I have finally figured out what was wrong with my camera and gotten the settings sorted out but have really lost the desire to photograph what I am wearing. Not only that, I've lost any desire to wear something that might interest anyone.
Yes, that's what I said. The games are over. I played, I learned, and I went full circle. At one time I thought that I had to represent who I am with my clothes, that I had to get it right, that I had to present myself to others accurately so that they would know me. Of course that's not easy if you've lost track of who you are anyhow or if, like me, you are a mixed bag of tricks. Am I artsy or bookish? Am I outgoing or reclusive? Do I like colours or neutrals? Skirts or jeans? I am a mixture of all of those things but I don't feel that I have any obligation to represent them in what I wear. I also do not have to impress anyone in order to get a job, keep a job, maintain a reputation or attract a mate. None of those things are relevant to my life.
Here are the things I've found crucial to my personal style and if you'd been asked to describe my style looking at me twenty-five years ago it would be nearly identical.
Muted colours in small doses-esp in the purple-burgundy, blue and green range
A good haircut
Say yes to lipstick
Mostly neutral colours -almost no black
Low-mid heels, granny boots, combat boots, mary-janes, brogues
Light weight sweaters, long sleeved tees, very soft buttoned blouses
Earrings, watch, two rings
Body skimming, no cinched waist, waist suggested
Skirts/dresses are loved but not worn daily
Hats-did I mention hats?
Scarves-no jumbo blankets
Are you curious to know what was different twenty-five years ago? Mainly it was that I wore pencil skirts where I now prefer flared skirts and I had more black and bright colours in my wardrobe. I suppose, there were probably also a few shoulder pads given the time period. I was also more likely to tuck shirts in and belt my waist. It was smaller then and I was comfortable like that. Yes, I wore scarves then. Nobody else did. Or at least nobody I knew other than my mother. I still have one that I bought in 1980-something. It's just cotton, navy blue, and I still wear it.
Full circle. That's great right? Good news, that I've got it all figured out! The only problem is, I am no longer sure what this blog is about. I doubt that will stop me from continuing to post, but it doesn't really bring me any closer to audience awareness. In those moments when I do remember you are there, dear reader, I am not really sure who you are, but I am quite sure who I am.