Year End /New Year Musings

The weird space between Christmas and New Year's is just really weird. The days blur into each other, routines get mixed up, the span of time feels simultaneously long and short. It didn't help that my mum passed away on 27th Dec two years ago, so I was dealing with some sort of grief too. Was it grief? Remembrance? I don't really know. It was some form of thinking back to those days my mum were at the hospital, bed-ridden, gradually losing strength and giving in to somnolence. And how hard it must have been for my brother, who visited her everyday.

I was fed up, too. It was probably a mixture of PMS and just having to deal with packing AGAIN. We were trying to vacate our previous residence to open it up for rent or sale. Doing that made me vow not to accumulate stuff or move ever again. I don't know how people move every so often, it's such a hassle!!! It pisses me off just thinking about it.

And so, our Christmas and New Year's came to pass in a mess of a home, strewn with boxes and random whatnots. I wasn't drawing nor painting, and snapped at my daughter too many times to count. I couldn't sleep at night despite being exhausted, just thinking "I hate it here", meaning I hate this time period. I realized I was a creature of habit, and throwing me out of my routine just made me miserable.

But anyway now I'm back in my room, hoping to get back into creating. I keep thinking that this year, above all else, I want to be prolific. I want to create more than I consume. That way, at least when I'm dead my family can try to sell off my paintings since dead artists are appreciated more than live ones -_-.

I do wonder from time to time whether I should be looking for a job, but I still can't see how to juggle between working 9-5, parenting and managing my art business. I've been in that 9-5 wagon, and 5-11 is just parenting and dealing with my daughter's bullshit, so how am I supposed to create after all that? Those days were just tiring and soulless, and weekends were even more tiring, having to run errands, take care of my child and deal with chores. There was no such thing as rest. I think to myself, do I really want to go back to those days? Not yet? Or not ever? I'm still figuring that out.