I don’t always just do one painting a day. Usually I go on these paint benders and end up with 4 or 5 paintings in a day or two. It’s like I get all these feelings and emotions and if I don’t get them all out on canvas my heart will explode. Plus, I hate being wasteful. Any paint I have left over I use for just one more piece (I call those paintings my mental cool downs).
How you imagine a paint bender: I’m holed up in my spacious art studio, standing by a pane window with a view overlooking the city, surrounded by my other works of art on easels, a little paint on my cheek and a wisp of it in my hair. I’m holding my paint brush and palette, taking a step back to inspect my work resting on an over sized easel, adding one more little touch of paint, and then it’s finally complete. I take a step back and admire my work and celebrate with a little glass of wine….
Vs. a Panic Attack Paint Bender: I’m on my apartment floor, canvas flat down on top of a shower curtain, inside of a giant pizza box,
there’s paint supplies so scattered that I end up playing the “every time you lose something” drinking game. In between paintings, I keep trying to clean paint marks off the floor but every time I take a step there’s a new mark because I don’t realize I have stepped in a pool of paint and now I’m just leaving blue foot prints every where so I go to wash my feet and realize that some how I got paint on my teeth. I come back to move a wet painting and end up dropping it face down, on the floor I just cleaned foot prints from, and have to wait for that painting to dry before I can start all over again, and then my wine spills. Magical, right?
So, I went on a paint bender the week before Christmas but this was like nothing I’ve done before. I ended up with about 10 or more paintings in 2 days. How you think a paint bender looks: I’m holed up in my art studio, standing by a window with a view of the city, holding my paint brush and palette, taking a step back to inspect my work on a giant easel…. vs. Reality: I sat on my apartment floor, my canvas flat down on top of a shower curtain, inside of a giant pizza box, my supplies was so scattered that I started playing “every time you loose something” drinking game (my sister and I play this when we wrap presents together for Christmas. Every time you lose the scissors or tape, etc., you drink until one of you finds it. You can easily tell how the game went when you look at all the horribly wrapped presents under the tree the next day.)
For two days, I painted. Sitting on that stupid floor with my poor excuse for posture, drinking because I kept losing everything. By the end of it all, I sobered up, my mind was finally clear, but I was physically drained My legs were shaky, my hands were hurting, I kept getting dizzy, and my back hurt like a pain I have never felt before.
All I wanted was use this healthy outlet to help build my mental strength. For me it’s like exercising, but exercising the mind (I hope you read that in a philosophical voice and thought “oh, that’s deep, I like that. She’s a genius”). But I guess I should have been doing physical exercises too, because I am paying the price now.
Sadly, I have to take a break from painting, at least for a month. I have been so focused on taking care of my mental health that I have completely neglected my physical health and I am facing those consequences right now while I sit here in my chair with a heating pad plastered to my back. I’m going to do more stretching and standing through out the day and sit with better posture, no more sitting on the floor hunched over for hours at a time.
For now dear world, stay strong without new artwork from me. I’ll be back as I can unplug myself from the wall that powers my heating pad.
FYI: I did mention my back pain to my doctor during my annual check up last week. He offered to take an X-ray but I declined. If it’s nothing, just a strained lower back or something, it’ll be fine in a month and I won’t be charged out of the ass for a useless X-ray. If it is something serious, if the pain doesn’t go away in a month, or if I can’t walk, then I’ll call for that overpriced X-ray. Just want to make sure I get my money’s worth.
Panic Attack Paints 