Rebirthing an old painting

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I have these paintings I made a long time ago. They're put away in my studio, preferably somewhere I can't see them. They are the failures, the not-so-goods, the not-wanted ones. The sad ones, the left overs, the you could-be-better ones.
Mostly I let them lie for a while afore I go and finish them. As in, paining them to an end I mean. Not actually finish them of. Even though there are times I would want to, mind you. I would smack them with paint, scratch it's surface, slap en throw them and let them know how angry I am. But instead I rage and stamp on the floor and throw the painting in a corner.
You wouldn't say so, looking at all the friendly, lovely, soft, sweet colours I use.
Well, that's because I want to feel like that! I want to feel soft, sweet, lovely, friendly, happy and all that is good and bright and calm. So I paint it. As if I am all that already.

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You see I am ill, chronicly ill. Have been for a long time. And as yet, things are a bit rough. So this painting with all his bright orange and pinks irritated me. HUGE
I don't feel like that at all and I don't want to see it either.
So I took white and smeared it all over, to scratch it away again with a palette knife ;)
Then I took purple, dark, you know. But that was so afwfull I ended up mixing it with white also. And now, half way through I have this soft, sweet, happy, nice, lovely coloured painting.
I can't help it.
I keep ending up with these colours.
No matter how dark my mood, how sad I feel, I stil paint with these colours.
It must be some sort of inner longing for all that is beautifull.
A longing for love.
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New designs on RedBubble

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I want the dawn to feel like the greatest promise,the aurora as the kiss of God,My day as a scented garden in the sun,twilight like a warm blanket,and my night as a heartwarming plot.
I want  my job to feel as the greatest reward,my inspiration as wings on the wind,my creativity as a perpetual sourcethe colors on my canvas as a brilliant rainbow,and the caressing images I create as comfort and encouragement to many.
I want my being is as sweet as a butterfly,my heart as warm as rays of the the sun on a summer's day,my eyes pools of unconditional love,I want my arms to bring joy, comfort and protection,and my voice a caress of the soul,my laugh  like singing bowls in the windand in my lap the hope of new.
I want love to be like the blossom on the trees,tender, delicate, sweet, soft, ageless and immortal,as a celestial dance music.
I want hope to feel like anything is possible,and  my dreams may go to infinity,my heart to reach to the sky, full of love for all that isI wish I may feel and share peace forever and ever
I want to feel my freedom like I am flying in the clouds, walking on water,endlessly float in the air .......
That;s how I want my life to be.


*´¨)Inspired by: 
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(¸.•´ ★ Danielle Laporte- the Burning Question *¨*•.¸¸.. ★ 

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Proud contributor of the Phoenix Soul

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And then I had my first publication overseas.
Have been dreaming about it. I had my hopes set on it, ever since I joined Sprout-community. I felt such a sence of belonging. This was like coming home in every way. So I made myself a promise, to be one of the contributors this year. It was my New Years resolution.
I started to react on Amanda's questions on facebook. Her reactions were so sweet. And she quoted me in Sprout/the Phoenix Soul. Was I ever so proud!!!!

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Writing on a blog is very rewarding when you have readers, if not it is a lonely quest.
I started writing on my blog Zeeuws Bibje in 2008, 9 months after my dad died and in the middle of crisis. I wrote about frugal living with a bit of self-mockery and humor.
I wrote about frugal living because I had a rough financial time and needed to put things in perspective and to keep my head up ;) So I wrote about my kids and my budget and how I went frugal to pay my debts.
While doing that I stumbled on grieve and hurt.
It was always part of my blogs. How I found my way out of it, how I struggeld, how I crawled my way up again. How I painted and wrote as a prayer to healing. How I turned inwards.  All that has been written down on Zeeuws Bibje.
I used to write in English and Dutch cause I had overseas readers. Later on I became slacky and did not translate anymore( instead I installed the translate button which is horrible at translating though ;)
But now I stand here.
And I have my readers in the Phoenix Soul. Yeeeeeej so happy so excited.

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Just so you know
this is my artblog ....
think I will stumble upon vulnarability over here as well.
I know I will, I already did.

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Some Soulsearching

Yvonne de Jong Sunset 26 may 2015 our Lighthouse-the Lange Jaap

So I was talking with my therapist during a session about my life and the future. When she askes me this question; "What is stopping you?"
All kinds of emotions bubbled up, all sorts of thoughts swirled through my head.
"I stand on the threshold and I do not want to walk alone through that door."
"Who do you want to come with you?" she asked me.
And the I had to cry!
Because I want my dad to come with me, But my dad is dead, He can't come with me in this new life..
BENG
It hit me rock bottom
What did he mean to me, and what of him do I carry in my heart?
"Because, he is not gone,"she said,"he is in your heart."
"What was it your father gave you, that you miss so much right now?"
Well I can be short, I miss a sence of security, safety, feeling safe. I could not tell her because of alle the emotions that overwhelmed me then and there. But that is what is is, I don't feel safe anymore.
We felt so lost, my mom and I, when he went to heaven.
He was our tower of strength, the tree under which we could hide. The arms who held us save and warm, the tranquility that was wrapped around us. He was the glue of the family.
All fell apart when he moved to heaven.

Jeffrey Bakker Sunset 26 may 2015-our watertower in the distance

Grief is a strange thing,
it is vulnerable, raw, sensitive, and in the background is always present.
Sometimes I think I am done. Almost impatiently I long for that moment, that I no longer bursts into tears only at the thought of him. Of her, of them. Then  I'm completely happy. Until it suddenly  changes and reallise  I miss them so very very much ..... fog is my vision.

Mark Zijp Sunset 26 may 2015

Very different was the sunset tonight,
I found some pictures on facebook. All local photographers. Beautiful skies are they not?
You just forget everything looking at skies like these,
you disappear in the red rose of the ending day.
It is weird but I'm already in my new life, and I did not even notice it.
It started the day he left, and renewed the day she went after him.
I stepped over the threshold of my new life a while ago, and stood still.  I just have to walk in the soft smelling flowery meadow now.
You are safe Bibje
You're safe!
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(¸.•´ ★ *¨*•.¸¸.. ★Did I tell you my studio is finally coming trough?*¨*•.¸¸.. ★*¨*•.¸¸.. ★
I am so happy to tell you I have my place with a balcony! Can you imagine? It feels so good!!!!
I made a little drawing last year to focus on getting my own studio. It looks a little different but stilll it is my space. Think of all the beauty I will create there. So gratefull so gratefull soooo gratefull.

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(¸.•´ ★ *¨*•.¸¸.. ★And there is another did I tel you.*¨*•.¸¸.. ★*¨*•.¸¸.. ★I am asked to write for The Phoenix Soul,   Yeeeeeeejjjjjj
It's a dream come true, I wished it as a New Years resolution, I am so happy, have been cheering all week. It's the best birthdaygift ever....though my birthday is next week :)
*´¨) sooo see you in the Phoenix Soul?
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(¸.•´ ★ *¨*•.¸¸.. ★ baaai baai

I love that smell

Walking into my bedroom this morning I noticed a very fine smell. One I love, adore, makes my heart flutter. But you know what, I couldn't bring it home...isn't that silly?
It has been al long while since I smelled that smell daily. I used to be drenched in it sort of. From a very young age. Cause I had a dad who saw my craving for art, and spiolled me with crayons and paint and paper. At my birthday of course, but also with Sinterklaas. You probably call him Santa Claus and he comes at your house at Christmas...that is after he has done his work in the Low Lands ;)
My dad was born on the second day of Christmas so he got all the presents, but we did have a big party all day long. He was the one who pursued me to keep on following my dreams. So he kept giving me all the arty stuf and kept praising my work. And in between my birthday and Sinterklaas  I bougt ever so much of my pocketmoney. The smell was one that was around me 24/7. You know....crayons smell ever so nice...and paint; gouache and aquarell...mmmhmhmhmmmm I love that smell.
Well now you would think It smells like that when I open up my little portable artstudio...but alas, that is not the case. I started painting with acryl and the smell of that ain't that nice. It sometimes is downright irritating for the lungs. So I painted less and less and less and less.....made smaller and smaller pieces of art.

I had no real place of my own till recently!!!!!!!
I am so gratefull for my daughter who gave up her big bedroom so I could make a studio.
And even though I have not finished it yet and opened up the crayontin in my bedroom, the smell promises al lot of inspiration in my studio. It realy smells so nice.
I can see myself sitting at the big table or standing behind my easel, making al sorts of artworks and smell this scent. There should be a parfume of it! Would that be a great idea!....Artists Perfume...to keep the flow going even when you are not in your studio.
Well a pair of crayons in your bag will do the same and it's even more convenient. That way you can hit the flow on paper at the same time.
O gosh,I am desperatly in need of a fabric case to put my crayons in!
And I can't wait till Sinterklaas.
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Rescue Remedy

Bibje-Painted Poem 2014

I wandered of last week. Not doing the things I wanted to do, not even going anywhere I wanted to go. Just being sick and down and not happy altogether. But worst of all, not do anything but eat and drink and sleep as remedy.
Does any of you recognise this, my dear readers?
Making plans is not the hardest thing to do. I have lots of plans, al georgeous and beautiful plans. Exciting plans, which make me thrill to the bones. Wanting to jump start, head over heals. And so I do. I start, full force, give it all my energy and time.
But then disaster strikes in. I wake up one morning feeling drearily, have a headacke or nausea or worse, an astma attack. Try to go where I left of....but that doesn't work so I take  break. And another.....and another....... and another....... Waiting for that one day I will wake up, feeling bright and happy and not overly tired or sick!
In the end  I let them go.
And start making new plans.

Bibje- Painted Poem 2014

It is an endless cycle with me.
Is it fear for succes that makes me act the way I do?
Or fear to be commited to something which needs a lot of work?
I get confused, not knowing where to begin. And when I do, I run out of energy so fast it makes me sick. Something needs to change here. And I do not know what.
So I sat down one night writing about it. It is the easiest way to unravel my thoughts and feelings. And not get confused by them.
For I do get confused, thinking about one thing while doing another. Most of the time I do nothing and even then I am not present. I wander around in my head as well. Sitting here on the couch in the livingroom, dreaming a life full of art and geste, but at the same time being a bit pissed that I sit and do nothing. And telling myself to stop dreaming and start doing.  Instead of dreaming my heart out(=visualising) I am punisching myself for even thinking those thoughts about a future life. I even think about all the things I have to do, and my heart sinks into my boots. I don't have time to do all that and still be dreaming about a future life. When am I ever gonna reach that goal when I will not even reach the goal of a spotless clean home????
gosh

Bibje- Girls 2014

Here are conflict interest at work.
The home wants its place in my live as well as the arts.
I am in need of a plan, a real plan, one I can do. One that does not crumble into pieces when I do. And one that keeps standing even though I might not for a while.
I need commitment.
And I need selflove. A lot of selflove!!!
I need to love myself even when things go wrong, when I wander of or when I do'nt feel like sticking to the plan just yet. I need to be kinder to me. Nourish myself a lot more when I am tired and sick or when I feel depressed and out of breath. I need to let go of the guilt I feel when that happens. I need to stop comparing myself to the healthy part of humanity. And I need to stop appologizing for being chronically ill and hypersensitive. Stop trying to cope in a world that does not want to slow down. I need to be gentle to me. Soft, loving, caring, nourishing gentle.
Go slow and gently.
Or not at all at times. But then not to worry about it, or be mad about it. Let those days be my time to heal, to comfort myself.  I might  make a plan for those days. As my own sort of Rescue remedy! I might do that.....

True North

painting in progress by Bibje

A new beginning,
that's what this is.
I start all over again.
Don't know where to begin with this new beginning but I do know where I want to go.
I want to go to my True North. I want to go there where my dreams reside. Where  raw reality and beautifull wishes come together and be as one. That is where I am heading.
I have been on the road for a long time, and I have wandered off many times. I got lost on the way. Had my fair share of misery and grieve, loss and heartache. It took me a long time to overcome that.
It has been 4 years since my last blogpost over here.
But I have not sat in iddleness, No I have not!
I just did not write it over here. I wrote on my Dutch blog Zeeuws Bibje. Somehow it was easier to write for Dutch readers about my sons autism and the fight we had to put up with the childauthorities because of his unabillity to go to school. Over here going to school is mandatory, but the care is not sufficient. So my boy got sick of schooling and I had to keep him home. And because of that they thought it would be better to put him into a psychiatric ward. Just the place where someone with autism does not belong. We had to fight for him.  While still mourning the death of my mum and dad. We won the courtcase!

All in al we found the crums on our path, and a way back to happiness.
I have done Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, while preparing for the courtcase. It kept me sane so I would not lose  myself in all the turmoil. You can find it on my Zeeuws Bibje blog in the year 2012/2013. Some of those posts I wil translate later on and post them here.
And just now I am furnishing my studio so I can paint there instead of in my livingroom.
I even had lots of moments when I made art and that is also shown on Zeeuws Bibje and on Bibjes stempeltjes where I displayed the stamps I carved . My Bib-art has not been updated yet (and that needs to be done so badly )
But
I am on my way.
Heading to my True North.