'Perspective' Peter Gabriel
Got a new toy yesterday and I am mahoosively excited!
Yes, after months of to-ing and fro-ing about it, Sandy has bought a graphics tablet and promptly gave herself huge eye ache transforming an old pic of snow and ice on the front gate into something a bit more artsy and brooding...
All right so I'm probably the artist currently known as not an artist, but I see this as evidence that along with the design course, new avenues are opening up ready for me to walk down and that is a very, very good thing. I'm big on saying keep putting one foot in front of the other and new vistas will open up but at times wish I could either walk a bit faster or the vistas weren't quite so hidden in friggin' mist. You would think that the older I get, the easier being patient would be. Unfortunately it just makes me look at my watch more and mutter 'can we bloody get on with this now?'
You've heard me bitch plenty about not being where I'd like to be at this stage of my life and you'll be thanking the non-existent deity that this blog is not going to be bitchfest version 193.6.29...kind of like iTunes updates, but less prone to fucking up your entire music collection. Noooo, this blog is about hope and where you find it...which is usually not where or when you expect.
I'm a bit of an authority on this, having found the kindest man in the world on the other side of the world and the other side of me thinking I would ever find anyone, evverrrr. I used to work for Dutch cafe owners who told me there is a Dutch saying about relationships which translates as 'there's never a pot so odd you can't find a lid to fit it'. I would have told you a few years back that the Dutch obviously talk out of their arse. As it turns out, they don't and I was wrong. I couldn't see that I was wrong at the time. I could only see a very odd, lonely pot.
I've been thinking a lot about perspective and not only because I've been doing weird design exercises involving masking tape and hand tracing all week. Part of this whole blogging malarkey is me trying to find answers to my own questions, which are endless, apparently. I think I've pretty much plumbed the 'normal' ways of sorting yourself out, whatever the hell 'normal' means. But if I am an odd pot, and by this stage I have to hold my hands up to that one and, as hypno-dude keeps telling me, embrace my uniqueness, why did I think I would sort myself out with normal anyway?
The thing is, you can't always believe what you see. My eyesight is shit, so definitely don't believe what I see. I have Aboriginal heritage and a black mother and but look pure Skippy (Aussie for white Anglo). I'm Sandy, daughter of Norm and Noela. I'm also Patricia, daughter of (freaky coincidence) Sandra and John. Basically I am my own parallel universe. There are fragments of life you can't knit together, no matter how hard you try. But is that necessarily a bad thing?
It can be a bad thing if you like everything neat and ordered and explainable...which part of me does. Part of me would adore being Sandy, uncomplicated boring person, mainly because I think if I was I would have had less headspace trauma and heartache. But then I wouldn't be the fascinating person writing this blog today, har har. I think I've come around to the fact I am where I am in life because I'm meant to see things differently. The self help freaks say this is the universe guiding you along paths that make you grow. I call it an almighty pain in the arse, but at least one that makes me a multifaceted, compassionate human being. Hopefully.
You can see Sandy the Anglo or Patricia the Murri, they are one and the same. In the same way you can see hurdles, burdens, issues and problems and think 'fuck this I am over it' (which I can say is true because I have done it many, many times) or you can see the same things and ask what you need to learn...which I am doing more often although still swearing about it. It's all perspective in the end. You can believe what you want to believe and act or not act accordingly.
I want to continue to open my mind and see what comes out of it other than the occasional bitchfest. I'm not saying there will never be another bitchfest. There may be one in an hour but while I'm willing to grow there is hope for better. And where there is hope there is possibility and where there's possibility there's opportunity and success. That's all the perspective you need, with or without masking tape.
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