Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Tuesday

I was supposed to be in Ronette's all-day-all-week-figure-drawing fest (i.e. summer workshop) this week but it was canceled due to illness in her family. The ill person concerned has recovered sufficiently for us to collectively exhale; thank goddess, he's a young chap! But I don't think he'll be playing rugby anytime soon.

Instead I rejoined Carla Sonheim's Faces 101, also this week, but even though it's 3PM Monday in Seattle, I have not heard peep from the organizers since I was put on the list a while back, nor have they replied to my inquiry, so I'm not sure what's happening there. I did this online course in August of 2011 and really enjoyed it.

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I finished my taxes Sunday afternoon and delivered my hot pink binder to the accountant's office Monday morning. Nothing great to report, other than this year, though I was slow in working through it, I didn't feel the usual dread of having to do it. It was quite mechanical.

* * * * *

Which is the reason I'm all the more puzzled I had a mild but persistent panic attack towards the end of my tax work. Very strange; a rapid slide-show like vision of déjà vu that went on for hours; I knew intellectually it was a panic attack and not a real déjà vu but then I started to have déjà vu of déjà vus and just so I don't make mistakes, I had to check things I was déjà vuing about.

I had a bad panic attack once a few years ago so I knew what was happening on Sunday, but what I don't like is the confusion that is like a foreshadow of dementia. A couple of days prior, I took one of silly Facebook tests and I was shocked how long it took for me to answer super simple additions.

Like the last time, I can't think of reason for me to panic about. In fact, last time I had a pleasant afternoon with Rosie going to the gallery, but we also talked about Alzheimer day/wee/month. Was that the cause?

I make so little money I don't legally have to do tax returns, but I do just to stay in the system; (this could be a Japanese thing.) I even get money back from the tax department some years, but always pay more to the accountant which totally doesn't make sense to Ben, so deep down I may be justifying myself each year. Maybe this was it.

Annie was supposed to come in the afternoon so we can take her first sample off and put on a second one. I felt embarrassed by the mess in my stash room, but I would have had all morning to clean most of the house. But maybe this was it.

Anyway, it was strange to think that on Thursday and Friday, even though I wasn't done, I had done enough to start planning the post-tax week. Now I feel hesitant to do anything proactive. I postponed  meeting with Annie yesterday, stayed in bed, ate choc bickies and gazed at the Internet. I didn't even read the current van Gogh book, which I'm otherwise really enjoying.

I'm OK today, just a tad frustrated, flummoxed and annoyed. Sometimes I think I listen to my mother too intently I experience an octogenarian's life vicariously. She doesn't have panic attacks, but she's always concerned her cognitive abilities are failing. We've both had terrible memory for years and she even had a brain scan which checked out fine.

Anyhoo, today I'm going to eat frozen blueberries and read Chapter 2 of the design book.
I find it harder nowadays to throw away flowers just because they are not "beautiful" any more.
It's not so much the mess, but the amount of stuff in proportion to the size of the room.
My latest addiction.

6 comments:

  1. I've heard that eating frozen blueberries is good for your memory.

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  2. Why frozen in particular, though, I wonder? Longer to thaw, longer to forget??

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  3. I love your comment about finding it hard to throw away flowers just because they aren't 'beautiful' any more. I totally understand that feeling. I can never bring myself to throw them away until all the petals and pollen and sometimes the leaves too have landed on the table or on the floor and made a real mess. There is something beautiful in a way in watching the whole process and appreciating and understanding the true meaning of 'dust to dust' . I suppose fresh flowers are beautiful in the same way that young people are but the beauty doesn't disappear it just matures and changes with age. I suppose it is about recognising and celebrating our natural place in the natural world. I seem to have got rather philosophical here Meg - thank you for the inspiration :)

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  4. Great minds, Clare. It's the cycle of life and w/o decay, well, there is no new life. And cut flowers/young people wouldn'tt look beautiful if everybody/all flowers were fresh/young, right?

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    1. Yes exactly - diversity is a necessity for beauty. I guess it is the beauty of the process, the journey itself, which captures me as well as the aesthetics of the thing itself. I came across a great quote the other day "Education is a process not a commodity' - I think I am saying that it is the same for beauty.
      By the way, I have been lurking on your blog for some time (Catriona's facebook led me to it!) - I love it. I have been a spinner and a dyer and a knitter in a previous life - although never a serious weaver - and I really enjoy your observations. Thank you :)

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  5. I saw that quote on FB, too. I've taken Ronette Pickering's figure drawing course off and on since May 2008 and I find older models far more interesting, with their wrinkles that show history, not symbolically but according to their past professional and private lives. Ditto with singers, especially Jazz and Blues where life's hardship helps add flavor to the music.

    Re. education, sometimes a really good education is wasted on the young, too. I think we should give solid basic skills to kids until they are around 15 or 18 and let them loose, and then have them back for higher education sometime after their mid-20's at the youngest, but preferably when they approach 40. Dad was a chemistry professor then a vice chancellor in Japan and we always argued about this.

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