Hope in the Hood
Bad brain day, good leg day
It was Father’s Day today, and I took the girls for their run early so their dad could enjoy his coffee and have a relaxing morning. It was warm and humid again after another good rain last night.
The girls didn’t feel like going too far, only about three miles. Velcro always lets me know when she’s ready to turn around. I brought them home to their dad and I went back out to finish my run. I felt good, even though I was sore this week until I figured out that I had over 700 miles on the shoes I was wearing, so I got into a fresher pair of shoes today and was more comfortable. I finished listening to the Sisters In Law podcast from Friday and then listened to the birds near the lake.
As I ran through the neighborhood, I saw some new signs of hope. We have some new neighbors on the street around the corner from us, and I noticed they had a human rights campaign fund sticker on their car. And another neighbor on that same block had a new little Pride flag in their front yard garden boxes. I didn’t know their political affiliation before this but now I can guess. It’s comforting to know your neighbors are safe people. There are a few scattered MAGAts around, but we outnumber them significantly.
It was a hot day, probably around 90 for the high temperature. I couldn’t paint worth 💩 today. I worked on my series and mostly just swiped paint or glaze across parts of the boards and made a mess, I struggle so much with design. Here are the latest messes I’ve made of my disaster series. I hope this coming week I will be able to make some meaningful changes to them. I’ll show the earlier version on the left or top, followed by today’s changes on the right or bottom, depending on how you receive my posts.
On all of them, I will eventually get to a point where I know what direction I want to go, but it takes many layers and trying different things before something starts to speak to you. I’m not there yet on most of them. I might not finish the series until after the workshop ends, but that’s okay. Or I might have some good days this week where things come to me easily.
I had some thoughts about my dad this morning on my run. I can’t believe it’s been almost 5 years since he’s been gone, time goes by so fast. My dad was such a strange but funny person. Odd in a lot of ways. I never really could understand him although now that I learned more about our family history I sort of understand pieces of him, though there are some questions I will never be able to get answers to. He was basically a good, well-meaning person, though he was a people pleaser, and he did not know how to support his kids’ emotional well-being. Probably typical of his generation. I think he was a very anxious person and got more quirky and odd as he got older, which was probably a function of his Parkinson’s. He was only diagnosed with that four years before he died, but he probably had it for a long time with no symptoms we knew about.
I have no idea what else happened behind the scenes, but he seemed to soften as a human being later in life. Still, he made a lot of foolish decisions later in life and caused himself a lot more stress than he needed to. He just couldn’t let things go.
I think my stepmom was a positive influence on him. I think he was so obsessed with working and making money because he was trying to overcome some kind of insecurity, or didn’t know how to relate to people emotionally. He seemed to become more empathetic over time and she did remind him of things like asking your kids how they’re doing, because he tended to go off on a long tirade about whatever was going on in his life, especially as he had more health problems as he got older.
I have a few Pendejo-lite memories of him, like worshipping money and valuing people who were wealthy and well-known over other people. I have a vague memory of thinking some business associate he introduced me to was full of shit and I was not impressed. Later I told him how I felt about that guy, and he told me to have more respect for him, he’s a very wealthy man, and I told him I don’t care, why should that matter? Every so often I remember these moments with my dad and I just shake my head. He was a strange one, for sure. He was funny, but to the point where you wanted to tell him to STFU and be serious for a minute. What a crazy old dude. I don’t think he ever truly got to know any of his kids as people. I have a lot of good memories and very humorous ones, but there is a bitterness and resentment that lingers. I always felt like I wasn’t enough, and nothing could fill that void, and I didn’t know how to heal it. I simply and literally ran away from it. I don’t think about it much anymore, but it was so painful while he was alive and it took me a lot of intense therapy, self-acceptance, and self-forgiveness move through it.
I have to say that Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are very triggering days for me. It’s getting easier, but I still go through a lot.
Tomorrow is the start of week 11 of 12 in the CVP workshop, and I’m ready to move on. Definitely planning to take next year off from CVP, though I will renew my Academy membership. It’s a good community and it’s been helpful.
Time to cool down the house and go to bed. Have a good week ahead, and thanks for reading.
Hi Alene,
It's been pretty warm here in Illinois and will hit 90 in a few days, I think. My tolerance of heat is low. Hope you are staying as cool as possible.
Your paintings are essentially akin to writing drafts, and thank you so much for sharing the process with us. I always like to see where an artist's paintings are going.
Father's Day is particularly triggering for me, as well. However, lately, I've been trying to find forgiveness in some way. Still a struggle.