Adults Drawing Trees

There’s a painting that I want to do. At the center of the page there’s a circle that takes up much of the page, inside of the circle there’s a tree, a river, the sky and a distant mountain. Outside is the plain page.
I started drawing out my 1st sketch, all was well until I realized that I can’t draw a tree. Not even a kindergarten version of a tree was coming out. I spent the last few days looking at trees so that when I go back to the drawing board I would better be able to draw a tree.
I’ve learned that trees typically start out with the trunk, this then divides into two and the grows in different directions. There are branches coming from these two branches- which were the two initial divisions of the trunk. That’s where I’ve reached so far, I don’t know if my tree will have leaves as yet. Time will tell.

I think I’m turning into an adult.

The mountains don’t make me smile anymore and my plans for my future seem unattainable. I’m suffering at the hands of my personality type as I constantly come up with wonderful ideas but go through with none. For me novelty I golden but it tarnishes with time and it’s time to move on. I’m going to keep chasing distant things because I’d much rather run to catch you than go on running ahead of you.

I’m worried that I can’t make enough to buy my boat to start my business. That I’m about to get stuck in an office or fast food joint for the rest of my life. Somehow I’m not sure if I’ll be able to buy that new computer that I need. What I do need is some positive people who talk uplifting and encouraging things, who speak the truth and not only talk about it but actually live in that loving way everyday, I need them to walk into my life. I need to hear their struggles because they’re making it and I’m wondering if photography could ever pay bills, if $500,000 is too much to save, if maybe one day I’ll lose my mind and take a loan or if I’ll suffer through it, if I remember to encourage myself to take a crap job than to take a loan. I’m not Demacoles, the bank’s a knife and I don’t want that hanging over my head.

It’s confusing when imperfect people from a sin ridden imperfect race expect perfection from others, something that they’ve never even known. It’s like the log in their eye blocks out that piece of their vision that shows them a mirror, or maybe a videotape or a projector reel running, showing them their lives and where they’ve gone wrong. But maybe just by saying this I’m perpetuating it because at the end of the night I’m living with 7 billion other imperfect people, and waking up to face a world that asks for perfection.

We make plans but in reality those are just ideas to appease our thoughts because somehow we can’t wrap our minds around the idea that we’re completely out of control. Don’t believe me? When was the last time that you saw a plan come to pass, study it- something always falls through, there’s always something new. That’s true.

Editing is painfully hard but after about a month and a half, this week I finally finished some photographs that I took of a friend and sent them out to her. Between other projects this one just fell behind, I didn’t have enough steam to push through with this. Finishing them gave me hope. But that was at the start of the week. It’s Wednesday now, I need to accomplish something new.

I like how these pictures came out, for a first attempt of taking portraits and also without any reflectors or flashes or decent editing programmes. First time.
If you like them thanks.

Hopefully on Friday I can draw that tree and maybe come up with a new plan to suffice me mentally, concerning my destiny.

Peace,
Rushell

2015/01/img_2632.jpg

2015/01/img_2644.jpg

2015/01/img_2641.jpg

2015/01/img_2631.jpg

2015/01/img_2642.jpg

2015/01/img_2643.jpg

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s