To feel lost every day, even though sitting in the same place for breakfast thankful for the coffee. To sit still sipping having all the options and something that stays the same, the place filled with DVDs, papers on the floor, exercise mat and ball, weights, spray cans. Looking at all the bits in a different way and what can be done with them. The feeling of lost is that finding things is so demanding. Finding teip, finding watercolours, brushes, cutting the paper, finding the scissors, board to paint on, deciding to paint, making a visible mark and following that mark made just like that. Taking some consideration and then a lot of consideration. Pressure of good and valuable hanging on. Trying to get rid of that weight by making out of impulse without thinking.
Does this feeling evolve to something else, feeling of chaos and still at the same time? Making makes feelings change into some kind of happiness. What is that feeling other than satisfaction after the feeling you thought you didn’t have it in you, not now but after you felt bored and fatigued. A better feeling about yourself and what you do. The amount of options and lack of options are there to be made something of.
It is puzzling how much into guilt one grows, how much it is part of what and how you do. The balance of how much and when is enough. The straight away answer is never and nothing is enough.