January has brought me a vision, (well it may have been Tinkerbell) but a vision none the less. The dimmest ickle golden glow.. that shone on a tiny key... on a dusty floor... that i still can't reach... but i know... will fit the lock on the studded, bolted and blackened monstrosity called my mind.
Apparently the 1st world has decided to acknowledge that humans don't just have physical "illnesses", (not a word i would normally use), and consequently its ok to admit that you have "depression, anxiety disorder, voices in your head or any other general looney tunes issue" that IMO is actually perfectly normal but just doesn't fit in with our perception of modern society. One by one the numpties stand up and fess up, "i have been treated for............. for years, but i didn't want to say it before because of the social stigma"
What, the social stigma that you invented, accepted, perpetrated and colluded with to the extent that it became the "get out clause" on every legal document from insurance claims to judicial testimony. So many numpties have been bellowing from their little plinths that recipients have been seen to yawn and make rude hand gestures. Mental health issues are not an excuse for being a dick. However, they can be a reason to go hide in the studio and "crayonne up to the lines", which is what I do.
Colour is my anchor and my obsession. It is also my weapon against "evil". I have my back to the wall at the moment so i,m battling with dark blue violet and a deep metallic copper. Yesterday my hand reached out for pale gold and a blueish bottle green.....that's how i knew i felt better.
Here's a gift from Tinkerbell for 2016. She wishes to all a dreamless sleep that is uninterrupted, restful and rejuvenating and from which you will rise every morning looking absolutely fabulous to discover a full wallet. Go buy some paints.