Just like my little VW half-hidden under the recent 2010 snows, I hide away in my little protective shell. Here I am safe. Here I can stop thinking about the world, stop dealing with leaking windows, walls and shoveling away resistant ice. Here I can try to forget about contractors and the impending reconstruction of our bedroom and our privacy. Not to mention the reality of totally uprooting my creative work schedule. I am in tilt mode. This is a safe haven where I sleep more hours than usual and I refuse to budge from my escapism tendencies.
As I face my keyboard, the blank screen does not prompt me to be anything but silent. A few words are insincere and the emotional draw does not pull me into the sentences needed to portray what I am feeling, or to be jovial and entertaining or amusing. It is as if I am sitting within the quiet sadness of my car, looking out and refusing to open the door and walk upstairs to the warm condo. I feel frozen and in the grip of silence. Inwardly I am imploding and crying out for serenity, calm, for uncomplicated routines and responsibilities. I am not alone in this.
Millions of people face what feels like insurmountable odds, the winter blues, and everyday feelings of choking sadness. Why should I be sad? I have a very good life, family, colleagues and the ability to be the creator and artist that I am. It is something I must deal with, and I refuse to medicate or drink away these dark moods, that make me feel like a marionette. Letting the hands of emotional pitfalls wield my way of thinking and jerk me from my otherwise happy existence. No, I will wait it out, deal with the everyday challenges and pick myself up by my bootstraps. I will conquer this and return to my sunny self. I will not allow this to endure any longer. I choose to be in control and to break free from the grip of silence. It’s time to bring out the blank canvass and set up my oil paints.