bored yet?

here's the most recent incarnation of the fairy wings...sweet and pinkish, with a little shparkle. bits and scraps sandwiched between the pink silk and the pink netting. i guess i just had to tire myself out enough to just do what was in my heart to do in the first place. stubborn git that i am. i hope, if there's a reincarnation, that i do not have to come back as myself. in the middle of my pathetic crash and poor-me burn last night around 3am, i couldn't help but think of how incredibly generous life has been to me...how blessed...how incredible....imagine - to have the freedom and time to feel utterly frustrated because of an art commission...hunh...and to think there are people wasting their time worrying about sustenance, and illness, and getting shot, and getting evicted, and having no heat, and choosing between medications and food. how incredibly incredibly short-sighted and tunnel-visioned. of me. just when i think i've made great spiritual strides, a little tweak sets me reeling. oh the horror of being PAID to make fairywings...and **gasp** PINK no less! how can one expect to survive?? ok enough. yes...we each have our own reality and relative to that, one person's anguish is another's folly. and yet...is it less? not the fairywing thing. but in Real Life. i was taking the train from NYC to White Plains one day after a shopping blitz with my brother's friend, Jim. (raised as the only boy in a family of many women, he had been trained to shop patiently. what a great attribute to pass along!) anyway, somewhere around Scarsdale, the train stopped abruptly. i thought i saw a boot in the snow and figured someone's foot was cold. the truth of the situation, as the conductor announced, was that a woman had thrown herself in front of train. people around me joked that she'd maxed out her credit card. it made me feel very sad, because, even if it were true, THAT was the reality she faced. that was her horror. she may not have lived in a low-income housing "warehouse" that demanded you be inside before dark Or Else. that you sit on the floor, lest a stray bullet come through the window. but that doesn't negate her personal reality...because the scales aren't equal when measuring suffering or frustration. it's all a relative balance. so, no, i don't feel guilty for having food and heat and safety when there are others who don't....i just need to get less tied up in knots and be more grateful when the opportunities for growth & greatness of spirit present themselves...a gift...a treasure. i think part of it is my perfectionism....i need for things to look just so (art-wise, not housecleaning-wise). i know what i want the piece to express, and need to not have time boundaries to limit it's potential. i have a piece that i did a few months back that i have never "bonded" with. i like how it turned out, but it doesn't speak to me in the language i tried to teach it...it doesn't have the same visual impact as the thought it represents. it will be a piece that, if sold, will be missed, but i almost feel like it belongs to someone else already. i'm just not sure who. well, although my computer lied to me and converted daylight savings time already, it actually is my Work Night Bedtime. all day i couldn't figure out what time it was...conflicting reports from electronic sources. FINALLY i reached Kathy, who was way too busy studying, and instead of "hello" i demanded - "what time is it?!" she's accustomed to me. she understands. i fear i may grow into the old, eccentric artist on the street...shooing kids with a broom or a hose in the summer. did i say "fear?" i may have meant "hope." tee. so g'night y'all....sweet dreams and happy slumbers...it's definately a 2 dog night here...brrrr. L