cocoons and snake skin.

like a snake shedding my old skin faster than I can regrow new skin.

raw, tender, bleeding, where the crusty, dead, old skin is peeling away from the fresh, new, under skin . . . almost unbearable.  the pain of the old skin is so fucking uncomfortable & I cant scratch it off fast enough.

this most recent shedding, as most of you know, has been wildly propelled by one, little book. (here).

boxes. clothes. books. art supplies. full photo albums. dishes. notes. art.

donated or in the garbage.

everywhere I look, everything I see . . . constantly asking myself, "Does this bring my heart JOY?"

and soooooo many times, almost EVERY SINGLE TIME, the answer is NO.

Facebook. Noise, polluting my senses, like billboard after blaring billboard, screaming for my attention. 

I deactivated my facebook account, again. 

 

Peace has taken the place of chaos and this time, I honestly don't see myself going back.

I have become a HUGE fan of peace, especially after working so fucking hard to get it. 

then there was email. over 10,500 in my inbox. 750 not read.

I sat in a blur, in a daze, unstoppable. email after email after email. I didn't move from my stool for 2 hours, until I was down to ONE. FUCKING. EMAIL. (from my husband ;) I unsubscribed from every fucking newsletter, except one, one that adds VALUE to my life. 

skin stopped scratching. breath came easier.

it's the weirdest fucking thing. I've become obsessed. I can't stop. 

It's like the more I let go of, the more clearly I can see what really matters.

I used to think these things were part of me, in some way defining me. . . but now, when I look at this shit, I'm sure I don't know the person who used to own them. She's no longer here. 

It always seems to happen that, the painting I am working on, somehow, in some way, is a mirror for what's going on in my life. 

This one, that I've been working on for the past several months, is no different. Layer after layer. I think I'm done, then realize I'm not. Each layer, facing the past, the darkness, fully . . . then, and only then, allowing the truth & the light to become more present.

It's good stuff. REALLY good stuff.

How about you? Do you have a lot of "stuff". Do you LOVE your stuff? Are you sick of your stuff? It's a weird & awesome & frustrating journey. So many times I've been soooo fucking sick of it I just wanna light a match & walk away. But then, I wouldn't be facing it. I find there is HUGE power in the toe to toe-ness of facing it. 

I'd love to hear your thoughts & please feel free to share, especially since I have packed up & moved out of social media land ;) hahahaaaa 

I am on instagram, though. to me, it feels, less like a high traffic, billboard crowded, highway & more like a peaceful walk down a country road with a friend. You can find me HERE. 

XOXOXO

Erica

ps. One cool box I found was a bunch of small prints, there are now on clearance for $2.50 a pop, over HERE. Check 'em out before I light that match ;)

pps. and you can bet I've been wearing my "Do No Harm but Take No Shit" tee, just about every day. You can grab one HERE. If you're into that kinda thing ;)

ppps. If you wanna be sure to stay in the loop . . . new blog posts, new art, special sales, sign up HERE.

peace out, bitches. xo