From the cross brush

Choice
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This painting is reminiscent of the first piece of artowrk I did with S, the art therapist at my treatment center called "Swaming the song." We had an individual session in which she asked me to depict an event that had nudged me toward inpatient treatment. I drew a bluebird, the first of many to come, crouched on the low branches of a dead tree just above a maelstrom of waves. The rushing water is dark and complicated, as always, but has glowing pink hope in it, illuminating the darkness here and there. A menacing grey sky overlooks the lone bird, crying out for help. It does not occur to the bird to flock to others for comfort, as I did not on the night this scene depicts. That night, I pretended to talk on my cell phone as I cried alone on a curb in the darkness. I was hysterical with depression, trapped in my eating disorder, and as alone as I let myself be.

Part of what formulated this new piece was an anger that rose in me when H and L told me that water in my previous two pieces isn't as menacing as I meant for it to be, meaning that maybe my struggles aren't so dark and terrifying. So in this, I attempted to prove to them that they are dark, they do strike fear in me. In this piece, that lone bird leaves the scene as the waters rush up around thet ree. There does not appear to be a distinct direction that the current travels in, which was intentional, as I do not quite know which way I should go, but it is habit for me to draw movement to the right, so perhaps that's the right direction (pun intended). The pink atop the waves was just to please the eye and break up the monotony of the scene, but once again, it has a purpose in my message: the waves are crested in hope. The water of my troubles may be terrifying, but there is a hope in overcoming it.