Self care but instead my body turns against me

who else is in charge of this vessel because i'm not driving it today

Plans don’t turn out the way I want them.

Like, I got food poisoning on my self care day. The day I chose to truly treat my body with affection and nourishment, I got sick with food poisoning. Poo poo.

I didn’t ask for that. And, I had an appointment for my haircut, too. I called my barber and asked to take a cancellation fee. Much apologies, it’s my fault.

I’ll be gentle

Though, when shit hits the fan (figuratively) I can’t fight against my body. I move appointments around for the week. I inhale and exhale to breathe. I move on.

I wanted to beat myself up for underestimating the leftovers that wrecked my tummy. It’s a self-care day!

Though, I need to remind myself, this will settle in the end. It does. It’s Wednesday. It's a new day and I slept well.

I commit myself to releasing a new post every Wednesday until my body gives out. It's a routine I hold because

1. I like being accountable

2. I like clearing cobwebs out of my noggin.

This issue won’t dive into a lil’ artist profile. Except, a profile on me. 

Me! An artist! Sure!

I don’t want to say I’m blocked as an artist. Confused? Yes, I’ve been confused about my priorities, sure. It is what it is. But, I work through them. Shout out to journaling almost every day.

I get conflicted because I can visualize what an ideal environment is for making art. I like my desk. It’s a long oblong table. The corners are rounded, so I don’t bruise up my goddamn thighs when I navigate a tight squeeze. Too many options for felt markers. Too many pads for drawing and printing.

double down on your self-care by me, Alexander Chamorro

I know my energy best

I know I’m energized when I have talks with people who make art. The limits are none! There’s no end to the imagination. There’s no end to the possibilities when art-friends make things. Shout out to them. They get the energy to create and it’s wonderful.

I will tell you the truth: I didn’t write this post until the day before actually posting it. My bad.

Yet again, this newsletter is for me. Just like how plans change, I change appointments to flex out my schedule. It can be tiring being me sometimes.

In an ideal world, we do projects and tasks based on our energy levels throughout the day. You know your body best. You know your mind best.

I know I make mediocre decisions after dinner time. Don’t ask me to make commitments on my calendar after dinner. I’ll double book myself. And then, I’d have to be diplomatic to not hurt your feelings.

No, I don’t think your plan for roller skating is terrible. It’s unfair if I had a commitment prior to helping a friend move furniture.

I have a rule: if it's not on my calendar, then I'm not committing to it.

And, if it’s on my calendar, then I’m committing to it. 

The links I share below will do the heavy lifting for today’s post. It’s a newsletter about art and work so you don't have to focus on both.

👀

You shouldn’t be fake nice to people you cannot stand. Not only will you tire yourself out, but you’ll erode the confidence of trusting your own feelings.

Making money to afford a lifestyle you want could be your definition of freedom. Though, if you focus on preserving your wealth at a job you can only tolerate, it negates the definition of freedom.

An exit strategy for a paid newsletter is awkward AF. Writers struggle with the burnout. (I now know what churn means).

You don’t need validation from social media to pursue art.

The Little Lad, aka The Berries and Cream boy from the Starburst ads, makes a comeback on TikTok. Probably one of my favorite performance art pieces of 2021.

Thanks for listening,

Alexander