Pictormurus

January 15th 2011

Illumination (or letting the light in)

“Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”

~ Anthem, Leonard Cohen

Perfection, the pursuit of being perfect – the desire to do everything ‘right’ – I’ll be honest, it’s exhausting!

I wrote something similar in an earlier entry back in November (On Forgiveness), and I find myself looking to remember it now.

I need to remind myself of this purely because if I don’t, I so easily (and quickly!) allow myself to believe that I am a continual failure. That I continually let down, anger and disappoint those around me.

I think that the truth is different. I think I only really let down and disappoint those who care about me, by allowing myself to spiral and create a whole (imaginary!) negative world-view.

I think it’s then a sadness from others that I have allowed myself to spoil my own experiences and memories. That I preemptively take away my own ability to find fun and joy in my day-to-day life.

What I need to continue to work on is believing that just being ‘me’ with all my imperfections is okay. I need to keep hold of a few core facts. And I need to remember that these are facts:

I am liked for just being ‘me’.
I have value and worth to others because of who I ‘am’, not just the things I can ‘do’.
Those who care about me are not going to wake up tomorrow and decide they hate me after all.
- this is a hard one to get my head round!
Those who care about me are not thinking about me that much!
- I am not the topic of constant negative thought I all too frequently imagine!
I am not perfect, I will get things wrong and make mistakes.
- this doesn’t make me a bad person or negate the good things about me.

The good news in all this is that, apparently, people who worry tend to be the smartest, most creative people. It takes a lot of imagination to dream up all these worries!

So, hey! If nothing else, I have that on my side!

Rate this:

9 comments

January 15th 2011

Lelith Hesperax

Rate this:

November 28th 2010

On… being wrong

When do you admit you are wrong and attempt to make amends?

As soon as you have done the wrong thing?
As soon as you are told you have done the wrong thing?
After you’ve had time to reflect and think about what you have done?
Never?

I was never born ready, but I often suspect I was born wrong.

Making mistakes and getting things wrong comes so easily, fluidly almost. It’s a constant within me, as much as walking or breathing.

Over the course of the last few days, I’ve been thinking about the way that getting things wrong hurts, and yet is so easily repeatable. The hurt stems from not only failing myself, that I haven’t learnt from my previous mistakes, but also the sense of failing others – that I have let down those who I respect and am close to.

Why do I continue to do the things that make myself and others unhappy?

Being wrong is painful, it means acknowledging that I have failed. It all too often means acknowledging that my mistake has hurt someone I care about, that I have let them down too.

Being wrong means that in the moment I lack the knowledge, the insight to make the right choice with the situation presented to me. It means I’m faced with a situation that while it may not be new, may be different enough that applying the right knowledge eludes me.

It means that I am still learning. The mistakes I make as I learn are almost inescapable. Does it make it easier to live with?

No. It really doesn’t.

I can however, admit when I am wrong. I admit being wrong all the time. I apologise for my mistakes all the time (some might say I apologise too much).

I’ve always believed that letting others know when I am wrong is a good thing. I’ve always believed that admitting and being open about my mistakes and flaws allows me to be myself, and begin to like myself.

I’m not sure I’m doing it right though…

“When we admit we’re wrong, we create opportunities for people to accept and love us as we really are, and that’s when we can finally have loving relationships.”

I do wonder why then, even though I can be open about my flaws, I still find it so hard to believe that I am loved?

Liked even?

I’d like to throw this question out to you, if I may:

How do you deal with making mistakes and letting people down, and still believe that you have likeable qualities?

Rate this:

4 comments

November 22nd 2010

Orange and Almond Cake

I first made this cake back in March, seeking recipes for a friend who is avoiding wheat/gluten. At first I thought it was going to be impossible to make tasty cake she could eat, but this recipe saved the day.

It is loosely based on Torta de Almendra, a Spanish Orange and Almond Cake.

Ingredients

6 eggs
2 medium sized organic oranges
- use organic if you can as we will be cooking and eating the peel!
300g (11oz) ground Almonds
200g (7oz) caster sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder

Method

Fill a large pan with water and bring to the boil.
Wash the oranges before placing into the boiling water, ensuring the water covers them.
Simmer for 1-1.5 hours or until the oranges look very soft.
Drain the oranges, then cut into quarters (they will be hot, so careful!) and remove any pips.
Whizz them to a pulp with a food processor or blender. Set to one side.
Sift together the ground almonds, sugar and baking powder and mix.
Beat the eggs into the mixture, getting air into the batter.
Tricky(ish) bit: stir in the pulped oranges. Get the batter thoroughly mixed, but try not to be too heavy with it. If you mix too much, you’ll lose the air. If you don’t mix enough you’ll end up with a very scrambled-egg cake.
Pour the batter into a greased, lined, round loose-bottom cake tin. I think 20-25cm diameter.
Bake for 30 – 40 minutes in a hot oven ( 190C/375F Gas 5 ) it is ready, when golden brown and touched, it will feel nice and spongy.
Transfer to a wire rack and allow to cool before removing from the cake tin.

Will keep for up to a week in an airtight box.

Suggestions

This cake goes really well with poached berries.
Try with mascarpone or some of those nice boozy-Christmas creams that come out this time of year!

Rate this:

1 comment

November 16th 2010

On… forgiveness

Scared to be alone
Frightened of the dark
Everything’s too much
For a boy out of touch with his feelings

I must be to blame
I must be at fault
I believe I’m never good enough
To shine a light that lingers

~James, Pleased to Meet You

A very wise, caring soul once told me that in order to be happy (in order to stand a chance at happiness) I first need to be able to forgive myself. They still tell me that now.

Repeatedly.

To be truthful, I’ve never really understood what that means. Forgiving yourself? What a self-serving idea!

Forgiveness is something merited to you by others as part of atoning for your wrongs, isn’t it? Forgiveness is a giving act and utterly unselfish, it cannot be expected and cannot be demanded. It can only be given, freely and unconditionally.

“When I was a kid, I used to pray every night for a new bicycle. Then I realised the Lord doesn’t work that way, so I stole one and asked him to forgive me.”

~ Emo Phillips

At least that’s what I always thought. That’s why I always struggled with the idea of forgiving myself (where to start anyway – it’s such a long list!).

But I realise, if I am to stand a chance at being me again (the me I know I really am), I have to let go of some of this baggage I carry with me, I have to move on from things that haven’t worked. I can’t keep letting my past control my future.

How then does one go about forgiving themselves for their failings, their flaws, their transgressions?

1. Acknowledge your mistakes

I am very good at this. I have ‘acknowledgement of my mistakes’ down to a fine art. I’m all over this one!

Or am I?

Just because I assume fault and take on blame does not mean I’m acknowledging my mistakes. No, rather it means I’m taking on mistakes I have no legitimate ownership of. I martyr myself when I have no need to.

It also means that while I am so busy berating myself for assumed failings, I’m losing sight of the mistakes I’m actually making – such as behaving erratically, pushing people away and being hard work to be around when there is no reason to be so.

You will make mistakes.
You will get things wrong.
You will upset people.
You will fail.

Take it, and move on.

2. Accept your flaws

Like a tall building, I’ve got too many flaws…

The hardest thing about having the mind of a highly-emotional, self-doubting perfectionist trapped in the body of a slightly camp, balding thirty-something is getting used to the imperfection that I am forced to endure 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

It’s exhausting!

I am not perfect. In physicality, there are many better specimens out there. In intelligence, I’m bright but I struggle to understand many things:

central heating (is the thermostat the temperature I want or the temperature it needs to be to start working? why does the boiler have it’s own separate timer and temperature – arrrrghhhh!!);
how anyone invented the first ruler without, well, a ruler to check they had a straight edge;
why ‘toast’ is a food in it’s own right, but burning any other cooked food just gives you ‘burnt’;
and so on and so forth…

In my abilities, I possess many qualities, but I know that whatever I turn my hand to, there will always be someone who is slightly better than me, and others who will be exponentially better than me.

I am flawed. But then I guess, so are you. Which leads me neatly on to:

3. Know that you are ‘only’ human

I am flesh and blood. A brain. A heart. A soul.

I am the product of my parents, my upbringing. I am the end result; although still a work-in-progress; of every single experience (joyous and painful) that has got me to my 34 years.

If I were an omnipotent being, I would have achieved so much more. Equally, I would have caused damage on a much grander scale.

The modesty and smallness of being human, of being frail, of being time-bound and otherwise constrained should allow me to let go of the guilt that I carry around what I should have done by now, how I should have done things differently

4. Celebrate your gifts

Forgive (see what I did there?) the repetition. I wrote this back in July as a snapshot of what I viewed as being intrinsically ‘me’. I think it still holds true:

Quick-wit and sense of humour
Great cook
Generous host
Caring friend
Gifted artist
Fab personal stylist
Lover of fashion and glamour ;o)
Open mind
Contentment in the little things
Sensitive (too sensitive!!) soul

Listing positive qualities about yourself feels so arrogant, so vain. Listing failings and weaknesses feels so much more natural and obvious.

But what sort of a way to live is that? Pretty fucking miserable, let me tell you!

Celebrate your gifts, share them with your loved ones and allow your abilities and skills to be enjoyed by others.

5. Live in the moment

This is really important. I know it’s really important because everyone from my best friend Richard to the Dalai Lama tell me so, in their own ways.

It’s also the core tenet of what “forgiveness” really means, as I’ll let Oliver Burkeman explain:

Strip away the moralising, and all the most reputable psychologists seem to mean by “forgiveness” is to stop demanding that the past should be different from how it was. “Forgiveness means giving up all hope of a better past,” runs one well-phrased motto, usually attributed to the actor/writer Lily Tomlin. That’s not just eminently reasonable; it’s the only rational way to live. It implies no moral stance, one way or the other, towards the future: it doesn’t mean staying in an abusive relationship, or not prosecuting a murderer. It just means abandoning a particularly perverse form of misplaced optimism: the notion that things that have already happened might one day change for the better. They won’t. The laws of physics don’t work that way.

If I allow myself to stop fretting about the things I can’t change (because they’re in the past), and stop projecting worst-case scenarios on those things that I can only influence (because they haven’t happened yet), then the moment – the now, the right now is the only place that makes any sense to be.

6. Shine the light that lingers

I am not always to blame. I am not always at fault. I believe I’m good enough to shine a light that lingers.

There is room in the world for me. Putting my energies into making my corner of the world that bit brighter has to be worth the effort. To do otherwise would be to perpetuate the darkness.

Rate this:

7 comments

November 14th 2010

So now you’re back, from outer space

Wow, where has the time gone? Was it really July that I last put anything on here?

I have taken a much needed break from things, and while I don’t know if I’m winning in my battle with myself, I am making progress of sorts.

I’ve even found time to paint again. Okay, it’s only my little Games Workshop models – but hey! Creative output is creative output.

The White Dwarf in space

This little fellow is the limited edition subscribers model of the “White Dwarf” available up until October 31st of this year.

He’s full of cute character, from the little spacesuit to the dejected Goblin dressed up as a grey alien.

I hope you enjoy the pictures as much as I enjoyed painting him!

Rate this:

July 12th 2010

this is the end, this is not the end

“How come I end up where I started?
How come I end up where I went wrong?
Won’t take my eyes off the ball again,
First you reel me out and then you cut the string.”
- 15 Step, Radiohead

My previous post ‘on…becoming whole‘ is the last entry I’m going to write for a while.

When I moved my website hosting onto WordPress, I had visions that adding artwork, designs and painted models would be easier. I wanted my blog to be a place of joy and creativity, to showcase my (considerable) talents and share my art and hobbies with the world.

Instead, I quickly started diarising my thoughts, anxieties and worries on this platform. For a while, I was able to delude myself that the process was somehow cathartic. That by getting the thoughts out of my head and written down, I would be able to let go of them and in so doing, lighten my outlook.

That clearly hasn’t worked. No, rather I have used this platform to perpetuate my own negative internal thoughts. I have created a place that oscillates wildly from art and attempts at humour, to mawkish and hard-to-follow outpourings of blackness.

So, a break then.

I’ve given the site a new theme, fresh and summery (hope you approve!) ready for when I move back in.

I want to go off for a bit, and do some fun things rather than feel beholden to this electronic joy-sucker.

I’m gonna go and do fun things with my endlessly forgiving wife Verity. My best, most fun friends – Kate and Alan, Emma, Rich and Roberta, Colin and Mel, Joe and Katie.

I’m gonna re-find my creative muses and stretch my artistic boundaries.

I’m gonna do the things I enjoy – cooking and entertaining for friends, going shopping, taking walks.

In short, I’m gonna be the real me. Me, on a good day.

Rate this:

3 comments

July 12th 2010

on…becoming whole

I started writing this post just over a week ago, when I felt like I was finally getting myself into a good place. I felt I was finally feeling happy with myself, and understanding not only who I am, but how I fit into and work in this world.

Over the last week or so, a few things have happened which have rather knocked the wind out of my sails. I’ve had some set-backs at work which have left me bruised and anxious. I’ve also allowed self-doubt, worry and self-loathing build to levels which have left me questioning my purpose and paranoid to the point of panic attacks.

It’s interesting then to re-visit this and share it with you. What was going to be my recipe for how I finally figured out how to fix myself, has become a reflection on another set of disappointments.

It is still a recipe, but one that I must now try to follow.

Again.

Stretching and fragmenting yourself never happens in one definable moment. It is a slow, insidious creeping effect, the result of every failed choice, every ill-considered action.

You don’t start out trying to become undone. You don’t actively seek to damage yourself and those around you. You don’t deliberately give voice to all your inner doubts, allowing them to grow in strength, creating a cacophony of conflicting personas, suffocating your mind.

When you stretch too far, you fragment too many times and break yourself into pieces.

When you lay there broken (shattered), wondering how on earth you’re ever going to put yourself back together, just look to two things:

the pieces;
the glue.

the pieces

We over-stretch ourselves trying to:

do too much:
Success at work, being creative, taking on hobbies, varied interests, seeing the “must-see” movies, reading the “must-read” novels , being the cook, host and entertainer.
be all things to ourselves:
Being kind, being thoughtful, being wiser, being calmer, being happier, being in control.
be all things to everyone:
A better son/brother/partner/lover/friend/confidante/mentor.
keep all our options open, all the time:
The constant feeling that we must be adaptable, that we must be able to always be all 950,000 different versions of ourselves, and call on that version at moment’s notice.
cling onto a past that no longer influences or guides our future.

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”
- Anatole France

It’s easy to see how quickly we splinter ourselves into too many parts.

Instead, from this fractured state, we can pick up the pieces of ourselves that we require. The core pieces that make us, well… us. We are able to discard and leave behind the accumulated baggage of our past, the unrealistic expectations of our present and the anxieties of our future. We can strip ourselves to our essential components and identify the key elements of us as healthy, rounded balanced people.

My essential components (July 4th 2010):

Quick-wit and sense of humour
Great cook
Generous host
Caring friend
Gifted artist
Fab personal stylist
Lover of fashion and glamour ;o)
Open mind
Contentment in the little things
Sensitive (too sensitive!!) soul

Some of these things you’ll recognise in me. Some have been buried for so long, I forgot I had them myself!

the glue

The glue binds these pieces together. It may not be as hard and unyielding as a glue, it may be more fluid, more organic – weaving the pieces of ourself (our self) back into a cohesive, functioning whole.

I think of my glue as being:

My relationships, my loved ones, friends and families:
My relationships are the most important thing to me, in ways and meanings that I can never adequately articulate, or convey in any action or gesture.
My role and the joy or value I bring to others:
I’ve written before about the value I bring to others, questioning why the people in my life want anything to do with me.
But deep down, I think I know that I offer something (perhaps more than one thing!) to each and every one of my relationships.
My own sense of being, the pride and joy I can take from what I bring to myself:
I am of many parts, and for years I have allowed those parts to compete internally, to become points of self-doubt, to generate feelings of worthlessness, failure – even disgust and shame. I realise increasingly, that is the very unique combination of these aspects of myself, that make me special. I have a blend of characteristics, experiences and values that is not only unique, it is me. I cannot remove or close parts of myself, without changing what it is to be me. Sure, on a given day of the week I’ll be more one aspect of me than another, but that is good. That is how I choose to live.

the whole

The whole then, is greater than the sum of its parts. So long as the parts are not too many or fragmented, then simply being whole is an exceptional gift, and requires no greater effort than accepting yourself for who you are.

“Because he believes in himself,
he doesn’t try to convince others.
Because he is content with himself,
he doesn’t need others’ approval.
Because he accepts himself,
the whole world accepts him.”
~ Tao Te Ching – Lao Tzu

Rate this:

1 comment

July 11th 2010

you on a good day

You make conversation effortlessly.

You bring a smile to the faces of everyone you are near.

You light up the room with your brightness.

You are wise, and not arrogant.

You soothe with your warmth.

You are beautiful, even without any make-up.

You possess charisma and charm, but without ego.

You shine like stardust.

You suffuse every memory of your presence with gold.

You, on a good day.

Rate this:

3 comments

July 9th 2010

vegetarians, be afraid

For anyone who’s ever said “I never eat food with a face”:

Nom noms

No trickery, no photoshop. No clumsy manipulation with a fork. My mixed salad really did have this little fella, just sitting on the plate and waiting to be speared on a tine.

Putting him in my mouth and popping his little sweetcorn innards between my teeth was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

But oh-so-tasty!

Rate this:

1 comment

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Ingredients

Method

Suggestions

Rate this:

1. Acknowledge your mistakes

2. Accept your flaws

3. Know that you are ‘only’ human

4. Celebrate your gifts

5. Live in the moment

6. Shine the light that lingers

Rate this:

The White Dwarf in space

Rate this:

Rate this:

the pieces

the glue

the whole

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Follow “Pictormurus”