That's me. I should give credit to my mother for both adjectives, though she never used them together. She either scolded me saying that I was a rebel or she insisted on the virtues of being well-behaved. She was right on both counts. And good old me grew up to become a well-behaved rebel. A non-pathological schizophrenia of sorts.
Can you see that 'Angry Young Men' expression on my face? I was about sixteen here and it was a nice summer day on the beach. Why would the rebel in me lash out? Because I hated having my picture taken. I still do.
Two years later I still carried that wistful look around, even on vacations. The rebel was embedded in me. The nice, patient lady next to me is my mother. I can't really be sure after all these years but I think we had just had an argument. But we were both well-behaved.
Fast-forwarding to my twenty years of age. But lo and behold! I am smiling! Well, I did and often too. I still smile a lot and I love laughing. But the wistful rebel is always around here somewhere. And she is being really insolent lately.
Going through these old photographs is fun and so is sharing them with you. There's a reason for it too, as you'll see soon. But before I take a giant leap into the present, I'd like to post just one more photo.
My mother and I went went on a trip to Cyprus when I was 22. She was a doctor, an anaesthesiologist, and she was attending a congress. I went along for the fun. But looking at this shot... would you say wistfulness can be inherited?
Ok, I won't ramble on any longer. All this came about because of my inner state of discomfort and fatigue. Maybe you read about it in my previous blog post: do it with passion or not at all. During the three weeks that have gone by the only news I can share is that I have been feeling more tired and depressed every day. Five days a week are being sucked out of my life and I need the two remaining ones just to catch my breath and my thoughts. I gaze at my papers and brushes with yearning and yet just the thought of trying to create something is unbearable. I don't feel strong enough for it, it drains me out. Not even the easy things, the fun things. My creative self is simply not here.
But the rebel is. She won't stop nudging me on the ribs and, believe me, she's strong. I'm kind of fond of her too, why deny it? I haven't been able to make a decision about my job yet and I haven't been able to dismiss the urgent need for a decision either. Too long a time to walk the tightrope.
While I play being an acrobat, there's an easier decision to make but I need your help on that a bit. My BigCartel shop attic papers is good to go.
All items are featured as 'coming soon' and how soon depends on some information I need. I live in Spain and most people are on summer holidays in July and August. Probably not the best time of the year to open a new shop. But then I don't expect to sell much locally given the economic crisis. So how are things in Great Britain, the United States, Australia, etc.? Would the end of July be a nice moment to open my shop? Should I wait till the end of August? I'd really appreciate it if you gave me some clues and thank you in advance for your help.
I do also thank you for your supportive comments to my previous post, they made me feel better and not so much alone in this jam. I may not be a frequent blogger but I do believe that creating this blog was a GREAT idea!