Working and worrying

Works in progress from last Sunday's Session with Mom

Hello, Dear Readers,

How are you doing? I’m really glad it’s Friday—the weight of the world is wearing me out. My eyes are desperate to close for the day.

Here's the week in review. I attended the Scottish Artists Union's AGM last Saturday. I gave a wee 10 minute report on the happenings of the Rep Team. Afterwards, I met up with a pal for some matcha and charity shopping in Leith.

Sunday was art day with my mom (see above—laying the foundations for two new paintings). My mother and I have been talking and working on art for eight Sundays now. It’s been a good routine for both of us. I aim to complete at least one of those pieces this Sunday.

I watched the documentary, "Turn It Around: The Story of East Bay Punk" on Sunday morning as well. It was inspiring. 

On Monday, I ventured into the hot wilderness of the city centre and felt "all lost in the supermarket" and tearful as I wandered through the mêlée. When I got home, I saw there was a warning of an active shooter at the University of Arkansas back in my hometown. This was very alarming. Thankfully, everyone was okay in the end, as it turned out to be a cruel and terrorising hoax. However, later in the week, there was another shooting, this time in Minneapolis. I can’t stand America’s relationship with guns.

On Tuesday, I participated in four video events—a training, two online workshops, and a meeting with a friend. On Wednesday and Thursday, I had work, and on Thursday night, I attended another workshop. And here we are. Today, I met a pal for some more charity shopping and a tasty vegan lunch. Afterwards, I had an art chat with a friend.

It was a busy week of working and worrying. But there was also a lot of learning, expanding, and feeling excited about possibilities.

I was strangely tempted to rescue a TV/VCR combo from the street but decided against it. And this is where I leave you.

the revolution will not be televised

Without an anchor

I am still here, I didn't turn into dust. I am not sure how. I am walking for miles (my go-to coping strategy) talking, seeing friends, sleeping, resting, grieving, recovering, eating, crying, crying, crying. I talk to you as I look back into the empty rooms. I hope you will visit me in my dreams. I want you back. This is pretty fucking hard. Layers upon layers of grief. I can't move your things. 

My friends have been amazing and the flowers are blooming and the trees are leafing out. I talk to the squirrels, pigeons, and birds. I suddenly have so many bird feeders. My wee animal friends help me - stray cats roam in the garden. They are not you, but I hope they bring messages from you. I am surrounded by beauty in sadness, I am surrounded by big hearts and am aware of all the bodhisattvas that walk in our midst. All the caregivers, healers, and helpers. I try to practice compassion, my mind throws me endless curveballs. I am feeling it all and walking through it. Again I say, this is pretty fucking hard. I miss you so much, Theo. 

In other news, I learned of another loss. My friend, patron, supporter of the arts, punk rocker, photographer and all-around good guy, Peter Goodbody passed away at the end of March and with everything else going on I only just found out. 

If you bought a print or t-shirt with one of my faces on it, Peter Goodbody is the reason why. He suggested that I make them and so I followed through. I will always be grateful for his patronage, friendship, and support. He was a brilliant supporter of musicians and artists across the board. 

Peter interviewed me for his music and art website, P3DRO. I was honoured to be asked but even more thrilled with how brilliant the interview was - he asked great questions and I enjoyed being able to weave my love of music and art together. The interview felt like a special gift. I will always be thankful for Peter and all his help and support over the years. Rest in Power, my friend. You will be missed. 

Here is the interview again for those who missed it the first time or who would like to read it again. 

https://p3dro.net/2021/03/01/megan-chapman-this-is-our-family-tree-made-of-charcoal-dust/

Peter Goodbody modelling one of my shirts.

Thank you, Peter. 

Be well, take care, keep fighting.

Dear lovely blog readers, 

Thank you for checking in here. I hope you are okay. It is totally understandable if you are not. The world seems quite heavy. 

A few good things I noticed this week: 

Visits with good friends are a balm for the soul. 

Spring flowers are magic. 

A long slow walk with birdsong heals. 

Cats, cats, cats, purr, purr, purr. 

Vitamins might be a good idea and perhaps some more water. 

If you are tired, rest. 

If you are sad, cry. 

If you are angry, let it out.

Here's my Tuesday Studio Video Visit.

My next blog will come to you from a new decade of my life. I will be 50... and I am not yet sure what I think about that, but I know I am one of the lucky ones. Thank you for walking on this path with me. 

Be well, take care, keep fighting. 

Lots of love, 

Megan 

https://crisisrelief.un.org/ukraine-crisis

A line is better out than in

I had a lovely birthday last Saturday and so I decided to continue the fun and take the past week off. As much as an artist takes a week off. It was more a timeout from walking and running. Perhaps taking off from the outside world just a bit. I still took a few gentle walks and did a bit of yoga. I attended an art collective meeting and had in-depth and meaningful conversations with other artists in my circle. I applied for a volunteer position, started a bit of art, posted some art to a buyer, promoted my work across social media, bought a bit of art, cheered some artists on, signed a petition for Universal Basic Income, and here I am writing my blog. 

This week I also cried and was angry over the fear and danger women face in the world. I will hold vigil tomorrow for women everywhere.

 I'd like to run through the forest and throw rocks. I'd like to smash and kick the air. 

I'd like to scream from my guts until it shakes the trees.

Buy this print

A line is better out than in...

That's all I have for you this week. Thanks as always to my patrons and supporters.

Take good care out there.

burned me down to the wires

As many readers of this blog know, the music I listen to is the greatest inspiration for my paintings, photographs, and the words and titles that I put to my art.

While I was happily celebrating my birthday on March 6th, one of my favorite inspirations decided he had had enough of this life.

Mark Linkous shot himself in the heart.

The next morning when I found out the news, I was heart broken.

He was a musician I had never met, nor had I the chance to see him play live. He was not a friend, but he was a companion in the studio just the same. He will be deeply missed and his music will always be treasured and continue to inspire.