I wanted to run naked through the grass in the moonlight.
It would have represented everything I failed to do.
It was October of 2011. I was tired. I was so tired. We flamed out in fucking Chicago and totally crashed in Indiana. Jobhunting all summer, for shit jobs. Steve working night shift. Living at my brother’s, constantly worried about Symon getting out. Money pressure. I finally got a shit office job at IU. And we moved into our own apartment.
I don’t even remember what day it was. I don’t remember if we moved some stuff into our apartment already, or if we had already moved. It could have been the weekend after. We were at my brother’s, at night. And there was a full moon, or close to it. I looked up at the full moon and I had this strong desire to run across the yard, through the grass, naked, in the moonlight.
Of course, I would never do anything like that. But why not? What would Steve or K. have done if I stripped naked and ran around in the grass? Maybe think I’d lost it. Maybe laugh. They wouldn’t have actually done anything. Who was there to see? The trees?
It would have been a very freeing thing to do.
The moonlight called to me. But what was it saying? Run free? Even if figuratively? Ha.
I was frustrated. I didn’t know what I did wrong. Why was it taking so long? Why is it still taking so long?
I was so angry that things didn’t work out. I wanted a change and we failed. We crashed.
Had I been chasing the wrong thing? (A job.) Had I been running after the wrong thing?
Running across the yard naked would have represented everything I failed to do.
I embroidered this poem about the Moonlight:
I looked up
at the full moon
to run across the yard
through the grass
under the moonlight.
Why didn't I?
Who was there to see?
I did a painting that turned into a mess, so I started over and did the painting below, in September of 2013. Still stitching things on. This was the first time I used the leaves (that later became the felt leaf pattern) - I did some leaf prints with paint on canvas and then cut them out. I embroidered some words on canvas and attached to the painting. I did some drawings and attached them. I stitched directly onto the painting. I tried to layer with paint and washes.
If you look closely you can see little dancing figures - I took photos of myself naked and used the outline as a pattern, cutting out little figures to glue onto the painting.
Steve pointed to all the stuff surrounding the face and asked, "What's all that about?"
I didn't know. It was just a mess.
I finally gave up on the painting, pulled it off the stretcher bars, and it has been glued into the Bloomington Big Journal.