Bubbles, Laughter and Sunshine

Thomas Wolfe said that we “can never go home” and in college I used to agree.  Coming back to Wilkes never felt like “home”, it was just he place that my parents lived.  Asheville was home.  It welcomed me every time with an embrace of driving through a mountain and the pulling back to reveal a downtown thriving with people.  People were normal is weird and I don’t fear being a liberal.  But after spending 5 months back in Wilkes, I disagree with Wolfe.

            I have been dealing with a deep depression these last months, something that I thought was just from 1) graduating from college and not finding a job, 2) watching both parents lose their jobs, (thus fearing for my own future) and 3) worrying about getting into Grad school.  And now, with just over two more months of being here, I think that I am “home” one last time. 

            The depression I have felt is the same that plagued me in high school (minus some all literal scars).  Fear of being an adult, of growing up, of having to face this huge world all-alone.  Now I know the truth about my feelings over the last few months.  It is a primordial soup of actually leaving NC (the state that I have grown to love in spite of it’s red instead of blue blood), fear of grad school and if I can survive it (will it be worth it in the end?  A college degree has gotten me nothing.), feeding off of my parents depression on the economy (I knew I had a superpower… I want a new one), and last, the wonders of mental health failing in my own family in a variety of shapes and sizes. 

            Then I spent about a week in Asheville with Kris10 and Aly.  It was a week of wonderful food, laughing, reading, and just simply existing in a world that I do love and belong in. I did something productive for the first time since I finished my grad applications.  I took pictures, and not any pictures, pictures of adults being children.  It has served as a balm to my adulthood fears.  This wonderful creativity has not stopped yet.  Inspiration is still coming, consuming me, pushing me to keep drawing.  I have returned to my roots.  I am using my art as therapy again, using it to calm my fears and letting me know that if I could pull off 4 years of being an art major, (4 years of being told how awful I am) then I can get my masters and a job afterwards.  All I needed was to play with some bubbles in the sunshine with my best friends. 

 

There will be more to come on the new pastels.  So stay tuned.  I might have fallen off the internet-oblivion-cliff, but I back.  I am back fully in spirit and body, and back enough technologically to blog again.