Tuesday, January 29, 2013

S.A.D.D. Moments

Suddenly I am sad. Sinking fast. I just created a new acronym for the feeling. S.A.D.D. It stands for "sister against dark doodling." I know. It makes no sense, but I need to draw the image that keeps rattling around inside my skull, but when I pick up a pencil I can't find a sketchpad. When the artist wants to come out she acts up like all the personalities in Sybil. At once. She will draw on the walls if she has to, because if she doesn't draw something, well, she becomes so depressed.

I suppose it could just as well be S.A.S.S. for "sister against sad sessions." This is how it works with me. I rise like the kids riding bikes through the air in the movie, ET., and I peak. That's when I ride like the wind. I catch up on my mail, I clean places I don't notice in a normal day, I cook meals with courses, I read three or four books and magazines at a time, well, not at the same time but you know what I mean. And I drink lots of green tea. I . . . I live well. Every day counts because this day comes as regularly as a full moon. The Darkness chases me until it catches up. It declares itself the winner, and falls like a cursed shroud that falls over my head, and holds me hostage, until it grows tired. Or maybe it feels sorry for me.


It's about as welcome as a chain letter. It's about as welcome as a chain letter delivered to this poor guy. I saved this 'toon from the  April 29, 2012 edition of the Dallas Morning News. I save anything that's mail related. The "Argyle Sweater" is one of my favorite comics. This one's a little dark, don't you think? I found it last night and put it aside for today, never thinking I'd be sinking. I mean to finish my "chain mail" drawing. Aw, shucks. Made myself smile. But, hey. Dark days don't last long. I probably need to eat better. I had sardines and crackers about an hour ago. Tea this morning. No matter. I've enjoyed the string of great days I've had since the last bout. So, moving right along . . .



Another envelope from the other night. I don't even own a pink fountain pen, but maybe it's from my subconscious, alerting me to "think pink," or reminding me to "SMILE, just smile." Could be the ink drops are black tears, or tears shed in darkness. Hmm. Art is subjective. Right? 

No mail went out today. There's lots for tomorrow. Until I see you in the mail . . . Write on.


4 comments:

  1. I hope you are feeling better soon. Sunshine on your face, the smell of flowers, hugs from those you love, they are all good ways to dissipate the dark clouds of sadness. Hugs!

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    1. Thanks dear Elle. I feel guilty complaining because I haven't been funked out in a while. It feels worse than when it hangs around like a constant companion.

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  2. Oh Limner, I'm sorry your day is dark. Mine was brightened by a postcard from you! I'm am mired in January, buried under a towering stack of unanswered mail. overwhelmed and antisocial. but your PC made my smile. one of these days you'll get something back :)

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    1. Thank you, Karen. You always make me laugh. I think it's your photo. :D Shucks! You just reminded me! I have to do my mail art for the day.

      A good indicator of my mental health status can is the quality and quantity of my mail output. I'm cool. I like surprise responses. With me, unanswered mail is like an investment. I always get great returns. Don't rush your creativity on my account, okay. Oh, the puns, the puns, the puns.

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