It’s Been Many Months

I have not made time for my blog in many months…

When last I wrote, I had just moved house. I was working my first summer at our island book store and I was rather busy. I had every intention of returning to blog writing but life had it’s own plans for me. We adopted a darling kitten for my son. Unfortunately, the day after we brought the new fur ball home, my beloved sixteen year old cat, Sarah, fell ill. She struggled with poor health for the rest of the year and died shortly after Christmas. The kitten was devastated at the passing of her companion and I am still in mourning for the loss of one of my best friends. We also endured a Hurricane last year that flooded the island and our home. We were luckier than a lot of people in North Carolina and didn’t lose anything of great value. Winter has been a familiar economic struggle. The perils of life on a southern barrier island.

Despite all this, I have not been entirely unfortunate. I actually managed to be quite productive with photography in the last year. I shot two weddings, an elopement, an engagement, several family groups and I enjoyed some great sessions with friends. My drawing ceased completely but I did paint a portrait in acrylic and I experimented some with paper mache and embroidering directly onto photographs.

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second acrylic painting in 18 years

I have started drawing again in the last few days. As always, I hope I can keep it up ! I have been very active on instagram lately – https://www.instagram.com/carolwoolgar/ . I have discovered that it is the best place to find amazing artistic talent and inspiration is as essential to me as breathing.

 

 

 

Internal Scarring

It is becoming more apparent as I get older and as I embark on a new creative journey, that it can take a very long time to come to terms with what has happened to a person to make them the way they are. In fact, I think it is a never ending journey. I am thirty six. I certainly don’t have it all figured out and it’s beginning to dawn on me, only now, that the people I looked up to as a child didn’t have it all figured out either.

I left home at seventeen and I have always told anyone that asked, that my childhood home life was far from ideal. I also had a bumpy ride in my formative romantic relationships. For the most part, I have striven to be happy and I have always believed, on some level, that I deserved to be treated with love and respect – that everyone deserves the same. I have been very proud of myself with regard to how I got over abuse and neglect and moved on. However, in trying to grow as a person, trying to be the best person I can be, I have come to discover my faults. I analyse past behaviors and current reactions and sometimes I am shocked to see that I am not healed. I can overhear a conversation, read a sentence in a book or just wake up on any given morning, after a vivid dream and realize something else about myself.  It can be very startling.

I don’t think internal, psychological wounds ever fully heal. They are part of us. We are forever influenced and informed by our experiences. I don’t want to be in pain, nor do I wish pain on anyone else, but I do firmly believe that adversity makes us more appreciative of the good things life has to offer. And surely we cannot fully feel joy without knowing unhappiness .

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