An Illustration of Loneliness

Part 1 of a 2 part series, credit going to Courtney Barnett  for today’s blog title. My sincerest apologies for the terrible photograph. I am definitely not a photographer!

When Paul and I were dating, he had in his flat several pieces of art which most people would consider unusual. I would have likely agreed, and I’m thinking plenty of people may have been so bold as to call it totally weird.  Today, we own the artwork together in the home that we now share.  I have grown to love every quirky piece, with the exception of one.  Each painting has a unique story and meaning to tell, and like all art, it is designed to stir feelings within the body of the beholder.  There’s this one piece, though, that has always left me with an uneasy, uncomfortable feeling.  When it was at Paul’s place, I couldn’t help but notice it when I walked in the front door since it hung directly in my field of vision.  But then I could just as easily and quickly ignore it when I went to hang out with Paul in his kitchen.  As I go on to explain what has happened with this piece over time, please don’t  think that I’m unappreciative of the talent and creativity used by the artist.  She took seemingly random found objects – an old window frame, used curtains, pieces of carpet – and made them into a compelling and thought-provoking piece of art.  My gratitude goes out to the young woman whose talent inspired me to write about her creation. I’ll share with you the conclusion I came to about my own life as a result of contemplating her artwork in my home, specifically where the piece landed in my office.

I don’t quite know where to start here, so let’s just notice the deteriorating window.  Whether I’m the weird voyeur looking in through the window, or the people I’m observing are weird, is the first source of debate.  Either way, I’m left feeling as though I’m viewing something I shouldn’t, or they’ve left the curtains open on purpose and they want me to look.  It doesn’t matter. I’m totally uncomfortable even though nothing out of the ordinary appears to be happening.  But yet.  The figures are captivating specters in the blue light of their devices with bodies atrophied from disuse.  Feelings of loneliness and hopelessness start to wash over me as I notice how oblivious the three figures are to each other and the world outside the window.  They are captivated and imprisoned by what they are focused on, and all I can do is helplessly stare in the window.

Eventually, I do tear myself away from gazing and return to my own rather pleasant and engaging reality. But is it?  Am I really that much different than these figures? Sometimes I wonder.  I recall waking up and checking my phone first thing in the morning.  I think of all the times I mindlessly reach for my phone.  Is it necessary? Why do I need to look at my phone?  What is this dopamine hit I’m after? Am I craving interaction? Am I looking for answers? Validation?  It suddenly occurs to me that in many ways, I AM one of these figures. Many of us are, whether we want to admit it or not.  So here. I’ll start. I admit it.  I have a love/hate relationship with my phone and don’t know if I could live without it.  It keeps me connected to those I care about. It gives me the ability to travel and know where I’m going, no matter what city I find myself in.  But it also takes me out of my own life and makes me distrust my own judgement. It makes me compare myself to others, and it makes me feel unsatisfied with how I look, where I live, and what I own.  It sucks my time, my money, and sometimes even my soul.  I’ve never been connected with more people than I am today, so why on earth do I feel so incredibly lonely all the time?

Now, before you go and tell me none of this is my phone’s fault, I already know.  It’s how I’m using the phone that’s the issue, and I agree with you 1000%.  I’ve tried the recommendations of deleting email and social media applications from my phone. I’m happy to confirm that these measures help reduce temptation.  I’ve thought about removing the ability to text, forcing people to actually CALL me, but that feels as though it would make me feel MORE isolated than I do already.  Then there’s the issue of the fact that I use social media to get this blog out to you, so I’m in a bit of a predicament indeed. But as I write, this picture hanging on the wall is giving off its desolate, lonesome energy – which sounds ridiculous in my logical mind.  But my gut knows. This picture needs a new home.  Seriously, though, I’m probably just nuts from working by myself too much.  My mind (who is a total bully by the way) tells me YES, DIANE. YOU ARE BEING RIDICULOUS. YOU ARE CRAZY FROM READING SO MUCH INTO A PICTURE. STOP BEING SO DRAMATIC! I decided to ignore that bitch and called a more reliable reinforcement for help.

To the rescue came my friend, Kate Troyer, founder and owner of Homeslice Living. Kate is one of the top Feng Shui experts in her method of practice, and I knew she would put my mind at ease about what’s been going on with the energy in my office.  I’ll go into detail in my next post about what I learned from Kate, but the short version is that the energy in our homes is connected to our bodies, which is then intertwined with the outcomes in our lives.  According to Kate, “Getting in touch with your environment and recognizing it as being part of you opens the door to a different awareness within yourself.”   Recently, I’ve desired to have more meaningful interactions in person, not only with family and friends, but through my work as well.  I wasn’t certain that there was a connection between having this illustration of loneliness in my office and an abundance of time by myself. The moment I saw the look on Kate’s face when she gazed upon it, that which I already knew was immediately confirmed. 

She diplomatically asked, “Would you tell me a little about this picture?”  So, I shared about the young artist who created it. There was both acknowledgement and appreciation for the vision, effort, and care that went into putting it together.  I went on to say how the picture tends to leave me feeling disturbed and disconnected if I look at it for too long, but Paul loves it, so I felt the need to allow it to go somewhere in the house.  The obvious recommendation was basically translated as “Move Sad Picture from your office.” 

So, in conclusion, I suggested to Paul that there’s another painting I’d like moved to my office. He wholeheartedly and graciously agreed, admitting that it might be time to find Sad Picture a new home. (Preferably in someone else’s home, but for now it’s been moved to another location in the house.) I’m curious to know who might find a different meaning in the picture.  Art is sure is interesting that way, and the beauty is always in the eye of the beholder.

Stay tuned for more on Kate, Feng Shui, and my recent Home Wellness Consultation in an upcoming post.  In the meantime, go check out Feng Shui Kate and the powerful benefits of taking care of your home.

Shine on,

Diane