a new year, part two (a.k.a. failure sounds better with pilita corrales)

I failed.

Kind of, sort of.  As it turns out, regardless of how much more productive I’ve become, there’s a part of me that remains hopelessly the same!  For instance, for example, I sort of waited until yesterday to start painting…  Kind of, sort of.  People’s Choice was on, which suddenly seemed extremely interesting in contrast to forcibly painting.   And then I became sleepy?

Today, a new slate.  Except, have you heard that it finally started snowing here in the Chicagoland area?  Mhmm.  I shoveled.  Three times.  Must pick up yoga more rigorously.  My back feels terrible.  And yerba mate.  Must put that on the grocery list…  Of course, my mind did wander back to the painting.  I wondered if I could distract you with a moving story about dad j’s Parkinson’s (which would not be very riveting, as he is getting better!  hooray!).  Or perhaps a premature lecture on valentine’s month?

I dabbed half-heartedly.

I dabbed half-heartedly, soaking in my impending doom.  I waited with a sinking heart for that moment when I would give up, when I’d realize the painting would not magically finish itself.  Thinking of other things to do, I absentmindedly put on a record.  Thankfully, magically that record happened to be Pilita Corrales.

Most people who know me have heard a story or two about my Lola Mommy –  the hilarious, tricky, callous, amazing Marcelina Ramos Santos, ma grand-maman.  When her sight was sharper, she was a talented seamstress.  On evenings when she had a lot of work to sew, my mom told me she listened to Pilita Corrales on repeat, cigarette burning in her mouth.

Brush in mouth, I started to take hold of my project.  I swayed a bit.  I started to remember some of my favorite images, of Lola Mommy and my late, great Lolo Daddy dancing that perfect tango at their 60th wedding anniversary.  Those prominent filipino sleeves, what are they called?  My mom often remembers watching her parents in awe when she was young, as they tangoed around the kitchen, practicing.  I wish I could tell you I went full on DANCE by the end of “Lahat ng Araw,” but why paint more than one image?

That said, after a rigorous past few hours, this is what I’m left with:

it’s not finished, not at all.  Should I dare myself to post it another week?

NO.  I have things to do.  I’m also suddenly aware that I have “learn to ballroom dance” on my 30-things list.  No doubt it was inspired by the afore-mentioned  image, burned into my excitable, romantic 19-year old mind .  2012, what are you going to do to me?

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