A Box Full of Sheep

What do you do when you live in a box full of sheep, and you are neither; a sheep (black or white), the wolf, the dog or the farmer? I will let you contemplate that for a bit, while I grab a cup of coffee.

I’m back…so, do you have an answer? No, me either.

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But today, I have come to the conclusion (After months of contemplating, “What’s wrong with me,” since I quit my job at the end of September with no back up plan and no “Fucking clue” of what I was going to do) that I am not a sheep that I am sure of. Otherwise, I would still be working in that toxic environment that slowly ate away at my soul, and left me wondering whether stepping in front of a bus was the only way out. Extreme thinking perhaps, but that is how my brain works. A thought tickles the imagination and my brain runs with it, creating several scenarios in the time it takes you to have a really good….yawn.  Strange right, and in hindsight, its a good thing I live in a town that doesn’t have buses!

I have tried my whole life to fit in. But oddity is oddity and it manifests its way to the top and stains your very being with some kind of odor I think; not to be confused with pheromones though. And even though I look like all the other sheep, and I think that I am normal, (Doesn’t everyone’s brain work this way?) they know that there is something different about me. However, they can’t quite put their finger on what it is, so they labeled me with something that makes them feel comfortable – She’s strange, odd, uneducated, welfare bum, high strung, emotional, free loader, crazy bitch, disturbed, perhaps even eccentric. I am not a sheep, because a square peg can fit into a round hole, if the hole is big enough or you make it so.

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I have also concluded that I am not the wolf either. I do not possess a killing instinct nor do I necessarily like being alone…nor do I have a craving for mutton. I used to like mutton, but I gave it up for Lent several years ago. After the forty days were up I just never went back to fornicating. If I had known the results would be like the “Kick Your Bad Habit in Twenty One Days,” program, I might have given up something else for Lent, like chocolate. To be a wolf you need to be cunning and ruthless. I prefer to believe that we all have a purpose, and we are here to help each other out. I often describe myself as having a Pollyanna view.  Although, I do have to admit that over the years I have become jaded, and rightly so. I mean how much shit and name calling can one person take before they give up. I have kicked Pollyanna to the curb and now it’s just my view on life. And, I do like being around others, even though in a sensory aspect it is very taxing.

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I am not the dog! I do not have that much bounding energy, nor have I ever. I am organized, but not that organized, nor that determined. Have you seen a sheep dog at work? They’re maniacs the way they run around all day in organized chaos; it’s exhausting just watching them. They have it all don’t they. Determination, kind and friendly, but tough when needed, organized, obedient and loyal to a fault. To be the dog you need to be fearless in the face of danger and adversity. If I had to corral wayward sheep all day, in no time flat, I would be biting them in the ass to get them to do what I want.  Any time I have come across a wolf or a difficult situation I don’t stand my ground, I run as fast as I can in the opposite direction. Hence the reason why I quit my job. But then again perhaps I was just pursuing the wrong job and working for the wrong company – hmm. So I have concluded that although I am loyal (with faults,) I am not the dog.

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So now that brings me to the farmer; the man in charge of it all. It’s highly unlikely that I am the farmer. For cripes’ sacks, I can’t even run my own life, let alone a whole farm. I can just see it now; the cows would be in the pasture, the crows would be eating the corn, the wolf would be roasting a sheep on the BBQ while the dog knitted sweaters, the chickens would be out of the coop and fornicating with the crows, the gardens would be overgrown, because the imaginary gnomes went fishing, and I would be sitting on a branch in the cherry trees in the front yard wondering where it all went wrong.

I could possibly be a farmer though, because I’m a bit of a control freak, but that’s just because I can see process; yes you can see process. It’s an ability, like organising and charting numbers is to some, and whipping up a perfect soufflé is to others. I could be the farmer, if I had the dog keeping me on track.

And although I would like having the dog around, I don’t want to be the farmer. I just want to be like God and create. Not everyone is meant to be a lawyer or doctor or work a regular job. I just want to use my imagination and create stuff for six days out of the week and do something else on Sunday; like have dinner with my family. And then I want to be like Jesus and spread the word and show others how to make the stuff my imagination creates, and yes, get paid for it. After all, even us non-sheep need to eat and put a roof over our heads.

I have decided, after months of solitude and creating stuff in my studio, (It sounds so official when I call it that. It’s actually just a room in my basement though) I am going to pursue the possibilities of becoming an art instructor. I think I would be truly happy encouraging others to use their imagination.  And besides, I always find peace of mind when creating, and find it very therapeutic, maybe others will too.

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So, while I contemplate how I am going to make this happen, I am going to continue creating, because walking in front of a bus is not an option!

Just me…

P.S. – Since I wrote this piece I have actually started my career as a private art instructor, (YEAH for me.) I shared this story to tell others, who are going through a difficult time and think that the only way out is to step in front of bus, DON’T! I know everything looks dismal now, but better days are ahead, you need only believe and take action to make it so.

I have also moved my studio out of the basement, and out of the town I lived in, to a real proper space, with lots of natural lighting. The studio is called the Briers Edge, and it’s located at 45 Dalkeith Drive Unit 13, Brantford ON Canada N3P 1M1. I share the space with the Yoga You studio. I run affordable workshops (by appointment only) for up to 8 students in my studio, and facilitate “Paint with Friends” events and “Beyond the Canvas” events (mixed media art creations) for larger groups either in the Yoga You studio or at your place of business. Contact me if you are interested in hosting a group event to; briersedge@gmail.com and I will send you a list of the workshops. As always, thank you for supporting me with my endeavors.

 

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Filed under A day in a life posts, Journey to Fortune & Fame

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