DAY 686: A BLUE I DON’T ACTUALLY LIKE
I’m feeling blue today, the kind of blue that evokes thoughts of winter and feelings of loneliness and isolation and an acute awareness of how entirely separate we are to one another at all times. The kind of blue that is kindred to Icelandic lakes, Atlantic seas, December swimming pools and bottles of water left on the window sill or plucked straight from the fridge. The blue of arctic mint and sunless skies. Blue like antifreeze and Colgate Blue Minty Gel. The kind of blue that means I cannot work because my head is in the wrong place: the part that normally functions on it’s own, the part that can visualise and think ahead, mute, so that when I sew I cannot see beyond that immediate stitch and it feels like driving through fog. I also have pain in places pain should not be able to go and my level of tolerance, both towards myself and the world, is significantly reduced. It’s been an effort to get up – today, yesterday, the day before, etc; this morning, especially, because I had more to do.
As I sit here and write this and stare at the fabric – fabric I haven’t visited for days, fabric I’ve rejected and shunned – I’m struggling to remember what I was thinking when I stitched this. It’s blue. It’s a blue I don’t actually like. And even though it incorporates sequins and wiggly lines and French knots... it’s failing to strike me. I feel estranged and that estrangement hurts. After so many days together, so many months... you’d have thought there’d be more slack, more room to manoeuvre. You’d have thought it was ok to take a break. After all, couples grow with space, children flourish over the holidays... Why, then, does this separation suck? 🥶