Yesterday afternoon was spent researching artists - painters, textile creators, lithographers, ceramicists, sculptors, embroiderers - and I spent a good chunk of time looking at the work of artists who work with glass. My goodness, but there is some amazing glass art out there! I love glass. I love how it feels (not when it’s stuck in your foot or finger, though), how it can melt and then be solid again, how it can take on colour and shape and all sorts of other lovely things. I have only one piece of glass art though, which is this...
It was a gift from His Lordship Malarkey a few years ago. I would like more glass art but it would be madness because of the cats. Bambino would immediately say, ‘What’s that then?’ and squeeze himself into the gap behind the glass art (no matter the care I would take in placing it in smaller-than-cat-size situations) and send it crashing to the ground, shattering it into a million tiny glass pieces. Flora would be more subtle, giving it a sly nudge with her delicate lady cat paw, which she would immediately point at Bambino and say, ‘It was HIM!’ So, no glass art collecting for me unless we move to a multi-roomed mansion where I can have a dedicated glass art room which will be a strictly no go feline zone.
The reason I am researching artists of various type and skill is that I have come to the conclusion that I do not think I can be a counsellor. This was the latest Grand Plan, if you remember. Why not use my decades of teaching experience and train to be a counsellor? But now, having done lots of reading and soul searching, I am now thinking, ‘Why should I?’ Blimey, one thing I have learned in the last few months about myself is that I just don’t have the patience and empathy with people that I used to have, especially when it comes to being asked for help or opinion and then being roundly ignored. And, being totally honest here, I also think that the thought, ‘Get a bloody grip, will you?’ might cross my mind now and again. I am pretty certain counsellors are NOT supposed to think like that.
The well-being of our minds is VERY important, of course. We can’t function effectively if our minds are running wild with negativity, pain or anxieties. I am a big fan of mindfulness. Of learning to step back and not charge at life at 101 miles an hour. I have that luxury now, because I work from home doing something that I love but I do know what it is like to be so caught up in chaotic thoughts and events that all I wanted to do was hide and cry and never speak to anyone ever again.
And it has made me think that there are other ways to develop and improve mental health beyond training to be a counsellor. Something more active, more hands-on practical, more, well, creative. So I have other plans and ideas brewing now. Little diamond sparks of excitement. Flashes of inspiration, of seeing me do something other than sitting and listening.
No, I might have the ability to be a counsellor, but I no longer have the inclination. I would be like crabby Lucy van Pelt from the Peanuts cartoons, a long time hero of mine. No, other instincts are calling.
The reason I am researching artists of various type and skill is that I have come to the conclusion that I do not think I can be a counsellor. This was the latest Grand Plan, if you remember. Why not use my decades of teaching experience and train to be a counsellor? But now, having done lots of reading and soul searching, I am now thinking, ‘Why should I?’ Blimey, one thing I have learned in the last few months about myself is that I just don’t have the patience and empathy with people that I used to have, especially when it comes to being asked for help or opinion and then being roundly ignored. And, being totally honest here, I also think that the thought, ‘Get a bloody grip, will you?’ might cross my mind now and again. I am pretty certain counsellors are NOT supposed to think like that.
The well-being of our minds is VERY important, of course. We can’t function effectively if our minds are running wild with negativity, pain or anxieties. I am a big fan of mindfulness. Of learning to step back and not charge at life at 101 miles an hour. I have that luxury now, because I work from home doing something that I love but I do know what it is like to be so caught up in chaotic thoughts and events that all I wanted to do was hide and cry and never speak to anyone ever again.
And it has made me think that there are other ways to develop and improve mental health beyond training to be a counsellor. Something more active, more hands-on practical, more, well, creative. So I have other plans and ideas brewing now. Little diamond sparks of excitement. Flashes of inspiration, of seeing me do something other than sitting and listening.
No, I might have the ability to be a counsellor, but I no longer have the inclination. I would be like crabby Lucy van Pelt from the Peanuts cartoons, a long time hero of mine. No, other instincts are calling.
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