Brain Fog

I think every artist or actually... every person can relate to the time where literally every single thought is swarming your head and you are physically paralyzed. You either have too many ideas and can't file them away in your brain, or your mind is in the clouds and this, what seems permanent, fog sets in, completely immobilizing you. It sucks, whatever the scientifical term is. This is my worst enemy when it comes to making art. And the only thing you can do is push through it. Force yourself to keep going.

After my grandparents passed, I didn't want to paint. It was as if an emotional string was severed. And it was all during my last two years of college; the most important years. I was getting my Master's degree and had a shit ton of paintings I needed to complete. What was worse is, nobody really knew. And if they did, I couldn't explain the wrenching heartache I felt. I couldn't talk about it at school or at work. I literally couldn't physically talk about it or I would break down and disintegrate on the spot. As I write this, years later, I still get worked up just typing it. But I guess battling the brain fog is letting go of the pain inside, right? Getting past that barrier containing all this haze.

The only thing that pushed me through was meeting the boy of my dreams and focusing on this new, pain-numbing love. This was also a reason why all my other relationships started dissipating. Everything before that reminded me of them. My parents, my friends, my professor, the food I ate, the places I went, EVERYTHING. So when I met him, I literally took off to a completely new location and tried things out of my norm.

Ironically, the theme I chose for my final show was the different types of love: Eros, Philia, Storge, Agape, Ludus, Philautia, and...Pragma... the long-lasting kind... my grandparents kind of love. I had planned on painting both of them for that one but that didn't happen. It was way too painful and there was no time to switch the idea. I felt completely stuck. I even gave up having my own studio on campus... I just couldn't be around anyone I had a strong connection with. I was literally on the verge of crying every other minute. It was torture. I was rarely home, rarely at school, and rarely present for anything else other than being with him. Which, thank God, because where else would I have gone?

After I got through my Master's Degree, the fog didn't go away. I tried painting here and there, but only because I forced myself to do commissions. And as I sit here now, it still hasn't gone away. I could only imagine how this is like when someone like your forever partner passes away. Like what my grandparents felt as they both slipped away from each other... to evil cancer and to horrible Alzheimer's. Grief is a very strange thing. My Mimi meant the world to me... I mean, she meant the world to everyone in our family and that is an understatement. She was indescribable. A beautiful soul who cared for everyone around her. Someone who you would never think went through the worst that life had to offer, but came out the other side an angel. But she has gone from this world. And that lump in my throat grows and grows the more I think about her. It's just easier not to.

I know I will see them again some day; anyone who says otherwise is just cruel. For now, I will work on getting back the somewhat clear and organized mind I once had.