No, not the bloody bee sort.
The itchy, sore ,'tear your skin' off sort.
The 'but I'm not a gardener' sort.
Interestingly enough, it reminds me of a type of depression mixed with irritation, angst and fear that I've experienced once or twice in the distant past, but thankfully not for many years now.
When I drew this, yes I did, we were teaching in Kuwait in 2001 before the second Gulf War, and I was in the throes of a wild, mad, off the Richter scale meenie meno (menopause) and life was throwing me curved balls left, right and centre.
The past week, having developed a severe case of hives, I went hunting for this bit of wierd art that I had somehow produced.
We were doing an 'after school' bit of training all about using art effectively in the classroom and we were playing with stamping,linos, blocking, pressing etc etc and given free choice to create any picture we wanted to.
I was totally flabbergasted at what came out of me and I mean this truly. Everyone around me was twittering around making pretty little daisies and twiddly dee sort of stuff and there I was hammering away at this monstrosity.
The mental 'hives' were eating away at me and I had to express it right there and then. Not looking right or left, up or down I just beavered on and on and on. I don't even remember doing it, something just took over.
Wow , did I feel satiated and even post-orgasmic when I got this one out. Whew, what a relief. I slept better that night than I had in months. When I look back on that day, I realise that the man who was demonstrating all these techniques to us, had left me alone and not come over to talk to me once, or if he had, I hadn't noticed.
I am not about to rush upstairs and create a masterpiece like that, but will rather sit here and scratch.
I dedicate this drawing to all of you who read 'prozacville', as this is probably how lots of you feel without your flouxetine.
Aah,maybe that's why I haven't felt quite this mad since, it's dose loverly pills floating inside me keeping my serotonin levels in check.
