photo I took tonight in our community pool
Successful people still scare me.
I hadn't thought about this recently because I work from home and don't really interact with people anymore. I don't do any social things, either, (besides spending time with my daughter and family) as I find that I enjoy working more than anything else. To be honest, if left to my own devices, I'd probably spend most of my days reading and taking photographs of my toys.
I have a collection of tiny people and animals and I frequently find little areas that they inhabit for my photos. It's really weird because I don't consciously try to create art around them. They really just seem to appear wherever I am and since I live out in the country and live in a place where communal land exists, there's lots of space to roam freely.
I have no conscious idea of what the pictures of my little people mean. I think there's conflicts within them, but I never try to figure them out. It's a lot like the way children play without thinking of what it all means. I'm sort of like that, and this is the reason I've been hesitant to call myself an "artist". Saying you're an "artist" conveys that you know what you're doing.
I never exactly know what I am doing.
I'm more like a child who never grew up. I don't consciously create art or anything else. I have in recent times managed to completely remove my ego from my "artwork" and it's closer to a true form of living. I would be lost without my play. It gives life to my imagination and I don't feel trapped as long as I'm expressing it.
Anyway, people who are successful adults, with fancy titles and lots of money scare me.
They remind me of what I am not. To be completely honest, one of the only reasons I would ever want to be even slightly rich now is so that I can hire a maid and a cook and someone to help with reminding me about appointments/schedules since I have serious trouble managing those areas of my life.
I have issues with the order that things need to be done, including cooking. It's like something happened to me from several years ago and I panic during the steps, overthink them, get them mixed up and feel stress that I'm not fast enough. It's not too much of a problem, but organization plagues me. You should see my room. All my clothes are piled up in a laundry basket and I've started hiding colored markers and books in my drawers, where my clothes should be. I stopped folding laundry 7 years ago, afraid of wasting time, and I have also stopped putting my clothes away. It seems absurd to me for some reason. My floor is littered with past hobbies, books, postcards, clothes, toys and other random stuff too numerous to list. I have plans to eventually turn it into an art room that never needs to be cleaned up.
I'm constantly afraid of going broke. One time I imagined that my bank account had reached $100 and I was so scared to check my balance that I avoided checking it for over a month. When I finally worked up the nerve to check it, it had $4,387 in it. I couldn't believe it. I clearly have some bizarre issues going on. Oh well.....
Anyway, successful people are all over the place wreaking havoc on people like me.
I suspect on some level I'm jealous of the way that they are able to pull themselves together all the time. I'm not jealous of the quality of their lives as I've not met many people who are as content as myself, but I suppose their elevated feelings about themselves is what I'm jealous of. I still think of myself in extremely low ways.
What I'm planning in the short term to sort of shift my mind away from thinking about these uber successful people is that I'm going to create miniature worlds in my car, in the edges of the dashboard, that contain these little people toys of mine that I love so much. I think I'll do that tomorrow. Perhaps I'll document the photos. I think for some reason that will cheer me up a bit, to see the imaginary worlds travel with me whenever I get into my car.
photo of my favorite girl person toy, held under a fountain at pool
I'm still debating what to do on the July 4th payout. Part of me just wants to become a whale, and the other part wants to pay off medical bills so the collectors will stop calling me. I've lost count of how many collection agencies call, and I think I may be able to pay them off. However, I have no idea how to find out how to pay them.....I never answer my phone and I hate talking to people like that. Hmmmm.....what should I do?