Day 3: Acceptance

Today was a busy day for me. I've been doing more than just laying around. I've cleaned (a little), changed my whips, paddles, and chains hanging rack to a nice coat, purse, and hat rack, spent time with the cat and more importantly I've been out of bed. Still haven't eaten or slept. I'm starting to feel a bit aberrant. Overall, I suppose this is what I would classify as the "Mundane" part of my life that I was trying to get away from...

My friends have been texting me jokes all day to try and cheer me up. They were so cheesy that I couldn't be paid to laugh at them! But it was a valiant effort.
Worst one: What do clouds wear under their clothes? Thunderware!

I talked with the bf more and he is a semi-let down as he was suppose to be here last Friday and still hasn't come down. He keeps "falling asleep" whenever he is suppose to catch the train here. I can tell he doesn't fully understand my feelings in regards to the drama that has unfolded. He wants me to express my feelings but also keeps saying if I want I can always find another slave.

I know the words are that easy, but the action is not. I have no intentions of pursuing other slaves at this time. I obviously need to work on myself first. I need to learn what it means again to own a slave and to fully share my life and all things included in that with someone. It's easy for me to be with the bf because he is so far away, he is passive and unassuming. He never really asks the hard questions and he pretty much listens to whatever I say. He doesn't let his curious nature bud with me and things in my life. But, I want to get to a point where I really mean it when I say "I am open, ask me anything." I really have accepted that the situation is out of my hands now and whatever will happen will happen.
So, I went down to the school today to use the art facilities before they closed for the semester. There were a few straggler, tortured artists left still working on projects. They eyed me as if I were a Russian spy entering their Artist base, but I waved, made some mention of Andy Warhol being a genius and they were off my trail quickly. This was the first time I'd been to the Art room at school. Usually I've got my camera strapped to me and I snicker as I pass by here, seeing them all covered in paint. Happy that my trade doesn't involve such messiness. But today I long to be messy, to have an outward expression of how I am feeling.

I grabbed the tools I was most familiar with: paintbrush, oil paints, paint thinner, newspaper, and a blank canvas. Now, I have a strong passion for the arts. My abilities started out with doodling (my Dad can draw very well), moved to actual drawings, then progressed to painting and somehow that evolved into my Photography. I haven't actually painted in quite some time. Mainly because I am what I like to call a "copy artist". I can paint and draw whatever I see. But I am unable to come up with original ideas on my own. And yes, I know everything is just a version of something else but I mean I never sit down to a blank canvas without some sort of magazine, book, picture clipping, etc.

But today I did.

I prepped the paint and I sat at the canvas for 25 minutes. That's how long it took before I began to sketch and outline....
...and I began to paint.