I’ve been in a pretty deep funk lately. I wasn’t going to write about this at all though I am sure it seeps into the writing that I do post. But in the name of transparency I thought I would share a few words on the subject.
I have often experienced down periods (or funks as I call them) throughout my life. In the recent past they are less frequent and last for a relatively short period of time, mainly due to having built up some knowledge in how to pull out of them. There is a general disinterest in most things and a dulling of emotions as well as a loss of confidence where I find myself questioning everything I think I know. I feel tired and listless and anxious to the point that I can’t focus fully on much of anything or get anything done. For example, writing this blog has been a tremendous chore over the past several weeks.
As I say, I can usually work my way out these within days or a week or so. That has been the gift that my painting has presented me over the past two decades. But this recent bout has been a doozy with a complete collapse of confidence in everything that I do or have done. I felt dead inside and paralyzed in every way, fearful to move in any direction.
This extended to my work, that one thing with which would normally buoy my emotions, to the point that I couldn’t even pick up a brush. The mere thought of it formed a giant knot in my gut, as if actually painting would provide proof of the doubts and fears that were eating at me. I kept putting off working on a couple of commissioned pieces or starting any other new work and worked only in fits on another project that was several months late already.
But slowly I find myself creeping out of the pit. Small goals and small steps forward. Yesterday I finally picked up a brush and worked on a couple of very small pieces, such as the one shown at the top. And much to my surprise, I felt that spark once again, a positive emotion generated. It just felt good again.
So, I see a light at the end of my tunnel. And believe me when I say I am running toward this light.
As I said, I wasn’t going to write about this here. In fact, I still am thinking about deleting the whole thing even now. But I won’t. I’ve tried to maintain transparency in how my life translates into my work and this is certainly part of my life. It might be that bit of darkness that underscores the lightness in my work.
I don’t know but at least I feel like thinking about it once again. And that is a good thing…
So, for this week’s Sunday morning musical break. let’s listen to one of my all time favorites, Sam Cooke, who I believe could sing any song and make it sound incredible. I took a shortened title from this song for the piece at the top, calling it Nobody Knows. Of, course, the song is Cooke’s upbeat version of the old spiritual Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen, which might seem a bit on the nose for today’s entry. But it feels positive and so do I. So, give a listen and have a great day.
Redtree Times 
As you know, the black dog is no stranger here. Some days, just getting up and getting dressed is a victory.
This morning I took a walk with Scout, meditated briefly, and I’m now about to bake two butternut squash pies and throw together a cabbage stew.
I didn’t write today and haven’t written with my usual discipline since Jenny got sick. But I know I will again. One step at a time. That’s how I’m recovering.
Funks are part of our condition, I think, especially for those of us who live so much in our heads. Dissatisfaction with our work and the belief that one day people will know us as the frauds we are keep haunting our thoughts and dampening our hearts.
But that’s just the black dog circling our campfire. Ignore him and stay strong, my friend. As someone once said, none of us get out of this alive.
I knew that you of all people would understand this subject. Your black dog and my black birds all too familiar. But, as I’ve said before, there’s a small part of me that is thankful for them and the dimensions and perspectives they provide, if only by contrast. Those birds may not be pretty but, goddamn it, they’re mine.
On Sun, Nov 8, 2015 at 12:04 PM, Redtree Times wrote:
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Thank you for sharing. (I trust you have checked out any need for vitamins, etc to get yourself in prima physical shape.) Many of us have lived with discomfort, distress, anxiety, unable to just get on with fully embracing and enjoying life…. but for me it is all the sweeter to finally have found ease now, a reliable peacefulness, a joy…such a blessing, perhaps by some miracle of aging? Long time coming! I am so grateful to have outgrown the anxiety and distress. I pray you will too! Please be patient with yourself and take excellent care of yourself. And thank you for sharing your beautiful, magical, meaningful art, your wise words, and the really good music, you are remarkable. Cheers!
Thanks for the encouragement, Brooke. I had thought that the darkness that I recently experienced was a thing of the past. Outside of some short-term anxieties here and there, experience and aging had brought me that “ease and reliable peacefulness” to which you referred. Diet and activity and staying in physical shape have always helped me against this darkness over the years. But this one got by me and took a foothold before I recognized it. But it is lifting with a return of my greatest efforts. Thank you for your concern and advice, Brooke. They are most appreciated. All my best to you!
I really like the posted piece. Simple with a pathway towards a direction. We often hit those dark places as we journey on. I’ve had more than one this year myself. A word came to me as I held my breath for a positive outcome in the past few months. Restore. I’m trying my best to get back to my creative beginnings. Back to where the only thing that mattered was how the art looked and felt without the pressure of a sale. Restore the art within and perhaps the artist will be restored. I’ll take it. 🙂
Thank you, Parnilla. I know that the darkness I have experienced is not unfamiliar to many people and that many have it to an even greater depth. I know you’ve had your spots along the way. Life is just like that for many of us, isn’t it? But we can choose to fight against it, which I know you will. Thanks, for the encouragement, Parnilla.
Dear Gary,
I don’t have your artistic talent for painting or for words, but I understand exactly what you are going through. I keep trying out new “hobbies” related to what used to excite me, but all that does is make me feel more incapable and overwhelmed to boot. Depression is paralyzing, I can’t do the basic house work or even get dressed some days, even on 2 different anti depressants. Come to find out all three of my children are bi-polar, (and they blame me for that.)
But, although I cannot say anything that could be helpful to you, you do have an amazing mind and talent, so I hope you will feel better very soon, and enjoy life and its many beauties again soon.
Sincerely, Jackie
http://jacquelinesatterlee.com (art) http://jackiesatterlee.com (fiber arts)
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Jackie– Thank you sincerely for your kind words and for sharing your own experience. I empathize very much with your experience with depression and hope you’ll come to a place of peace and acceptance for yourself. I wish I had words or advice that could help you along your path but we all respond in different ways to different things. I have developed my own set of measures to fight against my darkness and I am sure you have your own. The important part is having the knowledge to recognize that the darkness is present and that it is time to act. I am fortunate in that I fought against mine several weeks into it before it sapped me fully. So my dark period is easing. I wish the same for you, Jackie. Fight it hard.
All the best–Gary
The shortening days, the weather, your natural mood cycles — you may have a bit wider variance in yours — have probably aligned to push you a little deeper down than usual. Exercise helps. So does vitamin D3. As far north as you are, the shortening days play into your mood and can suck you down. We all have a cycle of peaks and troughs in our moods, our own unique cycle, and you seem to know yours well. When moods like these take you, it might be best not to chase the spark, but to do other tasks — cleaning, organizing, chopping wood, whatever, tasks that need doing and require no creative spark. This will not only help get you through but be constructive tasks that can help allay the funk, enabling you to say to yourself, see, I am accomplishing something useful. Have you thought of getting some “sunlight” lamps? Lamps with bulbs that produce light that is the equivalent of daylight. Not only do they make good light, but they fool your body into thinking it’s getting more sun. People use them for Seasonal Affective Disorder, and they do help, even if you don’t have that. They also make just regular light bulbs that are billed as “natural light” or “sunlight” These help lighten your mood (pun intended).
Thanks so much for the advice. As you point out, we all have a cycle of ups and downs and I have learned to recognize my own. Normally, I can manage them with some of the activities that you mention– clearing brush, mowing and general outdoor activity along with exercise. This one crept up on me however and I just couldn’t recognize or felt helpless to do anything about it. But once it fully manifested itself for several weeks, I finally realized that I had to just go back to those things that have shook it in the past– activity. One activity begets another and your mind begins to dwell less on negatives. And it has helped and this dark period is beginning to lift. Thanks, again!
I had wondered. Your posts seemed somehow different recently: a little darker, a little more inward-directed. Since I’m late in catching up with posts, there’s not much I can add to what already has been written, except for this: it seems to be that the natural anxieties and frustrations of creating art must be exacerbated when you’ve making a living from your art, too.
Deadlines, marketing, the sense of needing to complete work sharpens when there’s more to it that the joy of creation. I suspect that as the valid but quite different concerns of life begin to shadow the creative process, it might be easy to grow funkish.
Beyond all that, we live in a society that tells us focus on self — our emotions, our thoughts, our needs — should be primary. As you’ve mentioned, getting out of our heads and into the real world is a great antidote. I don’t think there’s any mystery at all about why I’ve become so much happier since I began varnishing. That daily dose of fresh air, sunshine, and objective productivity is so helpful.
The problem that I was having with this recent episode is that the thing that I began to question and lose confidence in is that one thing in which I could normally free myself from the world and axieties — my art. For years, with that assurance of self in the work, I could find the objective productivity that you mention. Without it, I fumbled around and felt as though I had no outlet. But fortunately, I have been able to find other outlets in purely physical activities and have been slowly restoring confidence in that part of my world that is my work.
On Fri, Nov 13, 2015 at 7:25 AM, Redtree Times wrote:
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