The Culture that has been here all the time

I was always creative and even adventurous, but fought being introverted and, like many people, had events in my childhood that did not help my emotional balance. Through the years of my struggles with depression, I discovered it can be a creative tool, and I learned that famous people had the same experience.

Many famous historical and modern figures have openly struggled with profound melancholy or depression, often using it to fuel their creativity, including U.S. President Abraham Lincoln, author Virginia Woolf, and artist Vincent van Gogh. Other notable figures include Winston Churchill, who famously termed his depression his "black dog", and modern celebrities like Kristen Bell and Lady Gaga, who openly discuss their battles with mental health. 

In my life, I do not truly know what "normal" is or whether I have even met a "normal" person. I get joy from my creativity that rivals the joy I have experienced in a solid, loving relationship, even when we were both flawed.

No matter who we are or where we are, we begin each morning anew. We wake and say, "Hey, I am still alive."

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Cut the head of some insects, and they still function for a time. Cut a worm in two, and the halves squirm and usually morph into two new worms.

The only reason I put forth these examples is to illustrate my current sense of being. The life force is struggling to reassert itself. Reinvent itself. Find a new identity: This is a good development, though my life is fraught with isolation and loneliness. I hope it will pass.

If we met and felt drawn to each other, we could build a strong, lasting love that would weather any storm. Why? Because I have lived in many loves and endured many storms. I am not afraid of love; it is the best part of living a human being can have: The experience of deep love and commitment.

Reading the story of some famous artists who had a companion or a spouse as a muse is encouraging: a worthy goal for me. Since posting about painting the figures of women, I have learned there are at least two sources of photos of models that have already been cleared for use. These will serve as teaching tools but will not replace a woman who will be my companion and muse.

Voicing my desire to resume my painting and expand my subject matter to include nudes has resulted in several women contacting me, expressing their willingness to be my model and muse, none of whom are near enough to meet in person so far.

I would like a woman to model for my nudes to be a muse and inspire me at all levels, but in lieu of my finding one, the going rate for an art model in this State is $15 - $50 per hour, with a minimum of two hours paid even for less time. I have blank model release forms and all the art materials I need. I only lack a model. pixabay image

Many of you know I have been anything but happy-go-lucky ^1, and I am afraid it is getting worse. Direct words can mask what's going on inside. I must admit the negative attitude is the most profound I have ever experienced. No mystery, not having nearby friends, family, or a companion; my mind fills with negative words, and, unlike in most of my past life, there is no one here to say things will get better. I only get periodic "cheer up," this will pass if anyone bothers to speak to me at all.

My dog is not too bad, but my cat demands that he help me restring my guitar, though I have told him the strings are not edible. If they could speak to me in English, Polish, Spanish, or even Russian, I would be able to learn about their thoughts. Last week, I learned in my cat language class on YouTube that I have been doing it all wrong. Cats only stare when they are ready to fight. I learned that I am supposed to squint and glance away. I can imagine he thinks I am such a duffas.

Have you ever lost your anchor, drifting on a large body of water, then broken an ore? Then, did you make a sale with a shirt and a windbreaker? I was even rescued by the coast guard twice. What do I do now? Stay on the shore and remain a land lover. This is how my life seems to be now, I must buy an app to make my cell phone a compass and see if that helps me navigate. Pixabay image:

1 Battled clinical depression all my life and was only diagnosed as bipolar about five years ago; eight years as my wife's only full-time caregiver took its toll, too.

My late wife and I were not prudes; we chose some religious influences in raising our four children, and in this culture, it hadn't gone well. 

I have begun painting and drawing in general as I prepare to approach creating nude artwork. The mechanism of form and the choice of a palette are all in the works.

Songs are more personal, like deep poetry, but I want my art to be free. I love the female form and features, so I will devote my efforts to improving my art in that regard. I want to paint women of all body types, not just the overpraised thin models. Include details such as birthmarks and breasts of different sizes on the right and left sides. I have art books to begin my studies, but I hope to have real women as models when it becomes possible. All images pixabay.com

Even when I was young and throughout some of my adult life, I learned about the harsh realities of creative people. Since I was brought up mostly with encouragement in my artwork and songwriting, it was a jarring shock to learn that everything in this world has a political side. True, many can attain something equivalent to making a living, punctuated by times of just getting by. To become more than that requires more than luck but someone you know.

I learned "the ropes" in New York City's Greenwich Village by visiting centers for the performing and creative arts. I didn't like "prid quo pro."  The dislike of it stemmed from its seeming unfair and biased. And of course it was. Like it or not, that is how the world works.

I turned down chances to advance my songs and artwork because the people willing to back me had questionable backgrounds. Even some of my professionally successful compatriots warned me about some of them. 

So I have all my works and all of the pieces of the pie, but had I accepted the real-world solution, I would have had a smaller piece of a much bigger pie. Maybe.

No regrets, the negative side left many former friends in a bad place, even if they are still living.

My favorite artist is Vincent van Gogh, and his fame and success were established after his death through the efforts of his sister-in-law.

Johanna van Gogh-Bonger (1862–1925), the wife of Vincent’s brother Theo, was the primary promoter responsible for Van Gogh's posthumous fame. After inheriting his paintings in 1891, she organized key exhibitions, sold works strategically, and published his letters, building his legacy over 35 years and establishing his global recognition.

Once upon a time, when I was battling deep depression episodes, I asked my counselor, "Can I ever feel like I did as a child once more?"

He then, and another later, wouldn't answer. To be fair, probably no counselor can truly answer that. I had to research the question and find my own answer.

The answer lies in the brain's natural chemistry, and no external material or substance can truly recreate the joy of a child seeing the world for the first time. Tried but gave up. Falling in love was close. Love can produce the right chemistry if we let it, and if we do not spoil it with resistance or by creating obstacles to feeling joy.

"Happy chemicals" are neurotransmitters and hormones—Dopamine, Serotonin, Oxytocin, and Endorphins—that regulate mood, pleasure, and emotional well-being. " AI

In my entire adult life, I have experienced a joy that closely resembled the childhood joy: Three hugs spaced many years apart. Each within a sorrowful period when I was alone and not filled with hope. I do not think that in each case the woman who comforted me knew she had, and it was probably not her intention to create the depth of feeling I experienced - yet I allowed the momentary joy to exist. I am hopeful even now.

Before my wife passed, there were at least five years without intimacy (dementia). I sought a sub to be my FWB, had one briefly, but the overwhelming reality? I came to accept that the scammers were so good at convincing me that I was handsome, interesting, and desirable that I must have fallen into their traps without realizing it. All too often.

Now I don't know what to believe; even the praises that I cared for my wife for eight years out of forty-one seem disingenuous. 

If I am such a "good man," why am I alone? Simple answer? People lie.

Back in the 90's, we considered another legal path because a bankruptcy lawyer made a mistake that cost us more money. We met with an older lawyer, and when we were in his office, his young wife and two small children stopped by. He was old enough to be their grandfather. So, what is the distinction between why he had a young wife and why I can't even find a companion in my age group? 

It isn't money; it is security for the young woman; this lawyer's ability to provide a decent future for his young family. Yes, it was a practical decision.

I have enough tangible things, still active and still able to offer love, but apparently that is not enough. The one factor that could have helped, in my opinion, was being at least 10 years younger. 

And so the curse one of my family members put on me seems destined to be valid: She said, " I hope you die alone with no one around to notice."

ADDENDUM: Yes, I dealt with depression all my life, and in 2022, my doctors finally diagnosed something I knew all along: I AM BIPOLAR. When I was actually able to interact with a psychiatrist, not just a psychologist or GP, I got real meds that work for me. She helped me cope with my wife dying slowly, and now, though I am sad, I can deal with it better between the meds and Cognitive Self-Therapy. Why does my family have a negative view of me? Most likely, the untreated bipolar illness. Too bad it came so late in my life. My late wife also had complex mental issues, and maybe it was the glue that held us together for forty-one years. NO, I AM NOT GIVING UP. I SEE A FLICKERING LIGHT AT THE FAR END OF THE CAVE. I have my interests, my cat and dog, art, and my music that I have reignited.

Maybe one morning I will awaken to find that I have a new woman in my life, and we are both in love. It could be that after sixty years of having a lover, I am now addicted to love. Absolutely not the worst addiction. Loving sex as part of it is superior to being addicted to sex. I defeated several challenges in my life, such as cigarettes and alcoholic beverages, but I never equate my desire for love as purely lust, so I will not wean myself from love.