Solitude

So, I've been spending a lot of time alone.  I'm talking to my cats and the characters in books.  I'm painting for hours and then working on projects and then reading or binging showing that are not to boring to watch.  

It's been cold, but not terribly cold, so I don't work outside but I potentially could.
Family is busy.
Grandkids are kids.
I'm not lonely, at least not lonelier than I have been the last 30 years of my life.
I wanted to have long talks, but instead had long listens with people that had no interest in things I found interesting.
Eventually, as some would take
 advantage of the listening, by
rudely saying things like, "why
would I want to talk about that"
 or "you have always been so odd" and
 then going on with their stories
 about work or their love life or
their marriage or the shoes they
 bought or their own successes

and reputation.
I felt invisible.

So I quit being available as the
great listener.

And some would want to take me to lunch or buy me a small gift right before asking for a favor, like boarding their pet or watching their child while they went on a trip.  Obviously, I have no need for time as I have no life.

So I quit being so available for that, also.

But sometimes, I imagine people that talk about philosophy or go to history classes instead of the movies.  I imagine people that talk about "what if's" instead of fashion and shopping.

So, I'll head up to paint in a moment.  Insomnia has me falling asleep late so waking late, then a late start to paint and when that well has run dry for the day, I'll cook some nice comfort food and read awhile or binge some tv.  Maybe I'll hook up the BluRay again and watch some old movies while I draw.

I don't know if I will ever paint anything "great" but it is always serious and mind-consuming.

Happy Sunday!