I still want to live on a vineyard with a bunch of goats…

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Okay, so I fixed the painting…! But seriously. Then we could make goat cheese to have with dinner every night. (And goats are so cute! I love those videos on Facebook.) And I assume that we’d make a ton of money and have a never ending supply of wine. People would visit and buy our wine then buy my paintings because they’re drunk and on vacation.

I COOKED!

Okay, so I do this weird thing. I get an idea of something I want to have for dinner — something really specific. Like…broccoli chicken casserole…but with yogurt cheese sauce. Because we have this fucking tub of yogurt in the fridge from a recipe that called for like a tablespoon of it. And then I hit Google hard until I find something that fits my exact needs — no carbs, quick and easy, can use cheap rotisserie chicken.

But not this time, because this time Google had absolutely nothing for me. But I was determined to do exactly this thing. Mostly because of the yogurt. We’re trying to use more of the insane amount of groceries we buy.

So I made something! On my own! Just winging it! I’m very proud.

I preheated the oven to 350, got out a skillet and a sauce pan. In the sauce pan I heated a cup of yogurt, and in the skillet a little bit of olive oil. Mushrooms went into the skillet, followed by half a chopped yellow onion. Meanwhile I mixed a cup of cheese into the yogurt to melt, and microwaved one of those ready to steam bags of broccoli. Husband kindly chopped up the white meat of a rotisserie chicken while I wondered whether or not this was going to turn out. Because my yogurt sauce got grainy but then again not in a bad way. I probably heated it too much but I wanted the cheese to melt.

Anyway, then I mixed it all together in a bowl — the cheese sauce, chicken, broccoli, mushrooms and onions. Oh and I was salting and peppering everything like a boss — paprika was used at one point. I know that this really needs a noodle or rice or something…but we’re not eating carbs. Very sad. So into the glass baking dish it went, topped with more cheese. Baked for 20 minutes and then promptly eaten.

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YUM.

why not?

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Just as I was ready to declare I’d never paint again, this popped out. It started off as some weird, late night, drunken paint doodle of a girl and this abstract meets anime black sheep lady face concept (I know) that had to be promptly painted over. The background was basically born out of my love of blue and black cherry paint colors and the struggle to cover up my whoops. And then when I got to the point of the tree I decided it needed something else, so I asked husband dearest what he thought.

“I don’t know why, but I see gazelles.”

Why not?

Those were inspired by these cute statues we have at work. Actually they are directly plagiarized from the those cute statues at work. I found a picture.

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and now I’ma take pics and blog about it

So I’ve been working on this for a while. There are a lot of components here… The weird little gremlins who live in the cage — they are Anxiety and Depression. I made a girly, flowery bed to put them in when I’m done with them, but as with all things when it comes to me, it can’t be contained. I wish it looked as cool in pictures as it does in person, but maybe that’s part of the beauty of it.

Weekend Update

I was super duper productive. The only creative endeavor I didn’t undertake was writing, which I guess I’m doing now, so yeah. But I do have a novel idea! One that doesn’t seem like hypomanic psychobabble, so yay me!

Okay, first of all I decorated Christmas cookies for the first time in a friend’s class. I love them so much — even the ones that suck! I was able to get out of my head and risk being imperfect, and I wasn’t socially awkward for once. Major successes! Plus, COOKIES. Come on!

I also started on my Christmas presents to everyone — these cute little Pinterest faceless elves made of polymer clay.

I shall paint them and name them Squishy and they shall be my Squishy. I was super stressed about an affordable, unique and homemade gift for the million people I know…and then these little dudes came along! Happy days.

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I also did a weird doodle. Several, but this is the one that made the cut.

If you can’t tell, I like to either keep busy or sleep. There is almost no in between. But I am a person who can keep busy wondering about whether or not there’s a secret world in deep ocean water. Or maybe it leads to deep space, like a wormhole. Or heaven, since we are all made mostly of water and that seems to make some kind of spiritual sense.

Yeah, you see?

sometimes…

I really have no idea what to say. I don’t know if it’s the medication or just part of the human experience, but all my wit and wonder has dried up. Or maybe now that I am “normal,” I realize it was the mania driving my creativity.

I mean, I’m being dramatic. I’m writing right now and if you ask my husband I’m always writing. But now something feels off. Foreign. Like a new freckle — no, too innocuous — like waking up without an arm.

This strange new world has also affected my art. I can’t think of any paintings lately. Others may tell me to sit down, free style paint and be okay with whatever comes out — but they don’t understand that when Coleymojo sits down to paint she starts with a dain`ty water color type thing and ends up wrist deep finger painting with all sides of the color wheel in on the action.

Anyway, what I HAVE done is a creepy, useless sculpture.

And I love her! I almost want to do nothing else with her but have her beside my bed and call her my muse. I like holding onto her, feeling the smooth spots interrupted by a rough patch… I remember when I built her bones of wire, and how my fingers hurt trying to shape it. At one point her leg fell off. And then I was SO excited to put the clay on — I thought that would be the easy part but I spent days twisting and turning her, pushing fat around, until I looked at her one day and said, “I know we’re not done, but we’re done.”

And then I stuck her in the oven and tried not to cry. Would she survive? But this girl is a badass. Unfortunately for her the saying goes, out of the oven and into the frier…which in this case was my drunken ass dripping paint all over her with exactly zero plans.

Good times.

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(And I guess I was being dramatic about the painting too, because I did this at a class.)