Category: ART

“Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around”

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It’s a sweet morning. White skies. Stillness outside. Nothing but wind. And I’m under the blankets, watching Vanilla Sky on DVD. There are so many good things about that movie. The soundtrack is amazing. And it’s filled with little lines that fits perfectly as a reminder of what life’s all about.

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Vanilla Sky, 2001

The movie focuses on the relationship between actions and consequences. To be mindless and mindful, to make decisions or to live with the consequences of not making them. To be emotionally numb and awake. To feel like life’s owning you and how to own your own life by painting your sky in any tone you want, grey, blue or vanilla.

It is about human vanity and the comfort of buying a lifestyle and the illusion of happiness it creates, “living the dream” – and the discomfort of adapting to the cruelty of reality – being stuck in a nightmare, a spiral of negativity that makes you feel like a victim of life.

But the message is far from negative. we are not victims of our own lives – we are the artist who’s creating it. “Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around”. What a powerful statement.

But all those chances are far away from any comfort zone and doesn’t come with a price tag.

You can’t buy yourself a vanilla sky, you have to paint it. The opposite of being a victim of life is to be a Claude Monet. And here comes the importance of making a decision again. Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around. Now. Now. And now.

There’s no place like home

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I feel like fall is approaching. It’s windy and the air is slightly crisp. I love that. And it’s only a couple of weeks until my love will come here and we’ll get to share the wind and everything else, together. Against all odds, we have found something solid and beautiful together that doesn’t get affected by the distance or the frustration of being apart. For the first time in my life I have all the patience I need.

I’ve also allowed myself to have doubts. I am so used to being ‘slurped’ by other men in my past, I mean I was seduced by their attention so much so that I was swallowed up by it and couldn’t think straight. Like I was spellbound and drugged  by it. I didn’t get a chance to feel if it felt right or not, or to have any  doubts. I am very cautious about the slurping now. I know it’s a manipulation just to catch me, and once they have me, they are very different from what they first appeared to be. It’s creepy. The slurping effect is like buying a fancy car and then realizing you are sitting in a cardboard box that just looks like a real car.

I am all about authenticity and being vulnerable and real together. No wonder I’ve been miserable in my past relationships. Some people think that you should work hard to GET someone – to work really hard in the hunting process, but once they have you, they stop making an effort and they let go of their commitment and focus. I believe in the opposite thing: the hard work starts once you feel like you are committed, when you have built some trust together. That’s when you can create something truly beautiful and magical together. And I won’t ever let go of the commitment or the focus on the connection, because that’s when it all goes to hell.

All the doubts have led back to the same place, and it’s the home we are creating together. In each other and in the world. And there is no place like home.

The season of pain

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It’s been one of the worst summers of my life. I’ve been dealing with so many different kinds of pains. First the pain of what’s going on in the world – there is so much pain and fear right now with terrorism, increasing of rape cases, especially in groups of men, demagogues and dangerous political drama. But I’ve also endured physical pain. Emotional pain, stirred up by my self therapy (but necessary in order for me to continue my inner journey). But then there’s the pain of knowing that my second trauma is in a way still on going. I don’t talk about this in public because it can hurt people close to me, but even if I don’t talk about it, it’s still there. I’ve learned how to live with it and the pain is mostly about not understanding why. I’ve let got of both shame and guilt, they don’t belong to me. They never did. But it’s this little word “why” that keeps haunting me. To not being able to understand something difficult is not easy to accept. The heart needs closure. And to give up looking for an answer is definitely the best way to heal. That is extremely hard to do. It’s so hard to accept that there aren’t any answers and looking for them is pointless. Trying to figure out why someone hates you, why you are not good enough for them, why they think you deserve to suffer like that, why you are stuck with all the pain while they can live their lives without being bothered by what they’ve done or the consequences of their actions and the lack of responsibility.

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But when I think about it, I don’t think they are happy and living their lives without any pain. I think people who hate other people hate themselves even more. I think these people know more pain than their victims, but in order to survive they project their pain and suffering onto other people. If they wouldn’t hate other people, who would they be? If they didn’t feel superior to other people – how would they feel about themselves?

The most toxic relationships are often between an empath who’s trying to rescue a wounded soul but being the object of projected self hatred and pain. The empath becomes a victim of a dangerous dance of wanting to rescue the wounded soul but end up with a wounded soul because of the dance itself. You can’t rescue other people if you are trying to rescue yourself through them – and you can’t hide from your own pain by inflicting pain in others. It’s that  simple.

Because once they stop hating you, they are faced with their shame, guilt, self loathing – and their unbearable pain. But there is a way out of it, and it’s by facing it. By wanting the dance to end. By surrendering to the reality of things instead of hiding. Instead of escaping into numbing and separating the mind from the soul. Daring to be vulnerable is the key. Daring to be naked in front of oneself – without judging, without feeling shame.

So I wouldn’t trade my pain for theirs. I wouldn’t even trade it for their lack of pain for hurting me. But I do want closure. Whatever it looks like. Accepting that they won’t ever be vulnerable enough to be held accountable for their actions. Accepting that they aren’t strong enough to do that, and I can’t do anything about it. Accepting the feeling of helplessness and powerlessness when it comes to resolving the situation. Accepting the waste of years being part of the toxic dance and allowing them to treat me like a door mat. Accepting that I deserve happiness, success, love, pleasure and freedom, in spite what they think I deserve (which is basically nothing). Accepting that I can’t change another person or make them see what they’ve done or who they are. Accepting that the pain they have caused has helped me become who I am today and feeling grateful for being strong enough to make something good out of it instead of becoming a slave to it. I will never be a slave to my own pain. I want to cut it off and let it go. Maybe one day I’ll be ready to do that or perhaps it’s a slow process and I’m already working on it, what do I know.

Feeling hated is difficult and painful but I imagine it’s nothing compared to what it must be like hating oneself. I am finally in a place in my life where I accept myself for who I really am – and I am able to love myself without feeling shame. It’s a big victory for me – and from here I’ll be able to deal with whatever life throws at me, because I know when something is happening because of me or because of other people’s weaknesses and shortcomings. I used to take on the responsibility for everything, even for things that had nothing to do with me. If someone would hit me, I would think it happened because I was being difficult, that I probably deserved it and that it was my fault, not theirs.

Now I know exactly what belongs to me and what doesn’t. And it makes it easier to live with the pain of being hated and punished for who I am. It’s not my fault. It’s not my responsibility. It’s not my problem. It’s not my choice. It’s not my place to ask why.

Even if this has been a crappy summer, I will make the following months the best autumn of my life. The season of pain is over.

Burned out

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I can’t remember that I’ve ever been this drained in my life – and I’ve been going through a lot of hard times before. I’ve been very strong for a long time now – using that strength to build a new life, a new and deep relationship, friendships, to rebuild my art career, a new collection of work (I’ve produced 10 artworks this year alone), to build a new self esteem and overcoming trauma at the same time for a little more than two years. Starting at rock bottom. I don’t know where I got my strength from then – but it has carried me all this way and I feel grateful to myself for being who I am today because of the hard work I’ve put into creating a new life for myself and a new skin to live in. To overcome a trauma is almost harder than to survive it. I know it sounds strange, but overcoming it means a lot of dedication, hard work and determination. I’ve come so far. I’ve accomplished so much in only a few years – but I am all out of energy and strength right now. The persistent heat wave and the fact that my health has been a disaster lately, hasn’t helped. I’m a little burned out.

My New Skin (digital)

My New Skin (digital) by Mia Makila, 2014

 

I just need to get better in my health and to rest and relax as much as I can. No pressure. No expectations. No ‘to do’. No stress. No worries. No planning. No fear. No self-doubting. No crying. Nothing forced. Nothing mindless. Nothing that doesn’t feel right. Nothing destructive. Nothing but love. Happiness. Peace. Silence. Gratitude. Focus. Self-forgiveness. Strength. Pleasure. Relaxation. Meditation. Good vibes. Healing.

Nothing except being.

Vallgraven

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Det är plötsligt ett stopp i verkligheten. En reva. Som ett klösmärke. Det stör. Kommer inte förbi. Inte i tanken, eller rent kroppsligt. Blir alltid så här. Alltid. Det är som en cykel som upprepar sig. Verkligheten som  tränger ut ur sig själv. Fantasierna – som broderier i skira mönster över verkligheten. Och så revorna. De tillhör samma gegga av tid och rörelse, men skiljer sig i tyngd och massa. Nu är det alltså stopp. Geggan ligger som en torr vallgrav runt mig. Något skar sig. Hettan dånar ute. Det är så klaustrofobiskt. Allt stannade upp och jag är förlorad i något slags mellanrum – en väntan. Kanske på regn. Kanske på upprättelse. På kärlek utan kläder. På att ord aldrig ska skifta färg. Jag väntar på att människors hjärtan ska sluta pulsera i svart. På att förstå skillnaden mellan ondska och oförstånd. Och på att verkligheten ska fortsätta flöda genom varje tanke.

Min händer svullnar. Torra andetag. Tänder som krasar. Hettan som kommer för nära inpå. Jag somnar. På något sätt. På något jävligt obetydligt sätt. Tänker på något som sagts. Något som varierar beroende på timmarna och ljuset. En klo. Den rev. Sönder. Något. Drömmar som tappade glans. Dagar som försvann. Och verkligheten som blev en vallgrav. Väntar ut verkligheten. Saknar geggan.

Counting the days

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I woke up to a cloudy day. It’s still hot but at least the sun is not too bright. I feel somewhat cloudy too. I’m totally out of sync with my emotions, it’s been an intense month with a lot of emotional discharge. I feel a little worn out. Johnny will be here in a few weeks, so I want to feel centered and energized before his arrival. I need to isolate myself for a while, like I do whenever I need to find that perfect sync between mind, body and heart.

Even if my inner batteries are running low, I feel strong and in control of my own destiny. I know where I am going. I am aware of my own behavior and choices. And I’m still working on my art – and it means everything to me. I feel so inspired. I’m growing as an artist, I feel like I’ve reached a new artistic level. It doesn’t happen a lot, perhaps only a handful of times in a lifetime. But it has happened now and it makes me feel proud. I know I am without competition in my style (both here in Sweden and internationally) – and in the way I use my trauma to express female sexuality and the integrity of the soul. It makes me feel confident and like I really matter as an artist, like I make a difference somehow.

My creativity is leaking into every area of my life now days – even my relationship with Johnny is a beautiful creation that we’ve both been working hard to maintain and add to with everything we are and have. It’s our own little piece of heaven – our home in the world, even if we are separated by an ocean. I can’t wait to have him here with me. We are counting the days.

But first I need to meditate and recharge. I have so much I want to accomplish, so much I want to experience – but so little energy. I think that my art could be the perfect place to get in sync with myself. I feel grateful. Where would I be without my creativity? Even the thought of it is unbearable. I feel lucky – and I know my creativity will save me, every time I need to be saved. That is why I never need to be saved by a man or anyone else. This is what makes me strong. This is part of my core strength. It’s what will keep me going, no matter what. But I owe it to myself to keep it safe and in sync. So that’s what I have to do now.

A day out

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I’ve spent the day with a dear friend in Linköping today. I feel super inspired!

On my way to spend the day in Linköping with a very dear friend
Surreal view in Linköping (can you spot the shark?).
Stature with anxiety.
A scream in stone
A blind statue
Angel with wings instead of ears
Baby Jesus with a very odd arm disorder
A blushing statue from the early Swedish renaissance
Jesus caught on a bad day
Like something out of a John Waters film!
A child’s vision of an elephant
Impression
Me
On the wall
Hiding.
Swedish Summer
The old part of Linköping is so beautiful

The escape

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I’m at a café right now, trying to escape the terrible heat. At least there’s a little breeze to enjoy. I’m painting again.  Probably because it’s too hot to do anything else.  I feel less pressured now when I’ve decided to make the digital art my priority. I’m very sensitive to expectations,  both from myself and others. How ironic that when I let go of painting, that’s when I start working with it again. It says a lot about how toxic pressure is to my creativity.

I will stop thinking about my creativity and just go with whatever comes out. It’s all good anyway.  I can’t believe how insecure I’ve become as an artist after the years of self doubt and blockages. I hate it. But I’m not letting it stop me.  And I’m always working on my self esteem,  so it won’t always be an issue. I’ve promised myself that.

But I long for rain, clouds and gray skies – and to feel like I am grounded in my thoughts and feelings instead of being invaded and hijacked by the harsh light and the heat. It’s so claustrophobic.  That’s why I’m gonna sit here and enjoy the cool breeze, as long as I can.

My morning with Amadeus

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Tom Hulce as Mozart in the 1984 movie Amadeus by Milos Forman

I’m spending this morning in bed, watching one of my favorite movies – Amadeus (1984), trying to escape the heat wave as much as I can. Lately I’ve noticed that most of my favorite movies are about creative people or about the creative process. Amadeus is so much about the flow of Mozart’s creativity and mojo. The Commitments (1991) is a tale of the commitment to a creative project and its various phases of passion, hard work, focus, ambition and the battle between the primitive and natural drive of the soul to have a voice and the pride of the ego to be even louder. Little Women (1994) is about a young woman’s love for writing and her insecurities about how to use her creativity since she’s a woman in a society and time which aren’t really interested in what a young woman has to say.

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My favorite actress Winona Ryder as the talented writer Jo March in Little Women (1994)

One of my favorite TV series, Canadian produced Anne of Green Gables (1986) is dealing with a similar theme; a young and creative female writer with too much imagination and passion for her own good in a time where there’s no room for such a female personality type (only as the “crazy, hot tempered spinster” lady type). Even Inception (2010) is mostly about the creative process of planning, thinking and mentally constructing the “realistic” dream worlds like layers upon layers of dreams within dreams. There’s so much focus on the richness of the imagination and the power of creation.

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Leonardo DiCaprio and the complexities of the super advanced worlds of Inception (2010), created by human minds using intelligence, logic, creativity, imagination and philosophy in a powerful way

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The Game (1997) – killing the ego to let the id breathe using creativity to manipulate the process

One of my all time favorite movies – The Game (1997) directed by David Fincher, might look like an ordinary psychological thriller at a first glance, but if we take a closer look, we can see that the theme goes deeper. It’s a journey through the stagnation and awakening of a mind. It’s about acknowledging the creativity of life itself – a reminder that we are the creator of our own lives, we are not the result (or victims) of what life is creating for us. We have to use our creativity, imagination and consciousness in every little decision, or we’ll be suffocated by life’s endless ruts, cycles and culs-de-sac.

If we surrender to a stagnated life we end up just as stagnated in our hearts and minds – and it’s only through our creativity and the primitive and natural instincts that we can break free and feel reborn (by killing the ego to let the id breathe), in order for us to appriciate who we really are and what we have. I love how Fincher is using the texture of sound design to illustrate the process – in the echoes of the metallic noises in the kitchen scene where the main character is spending his birthday alone in a cold and heartless house, decorated appropriate to his wealth and status but is without personality or warmth, to the loud and intrusive music of Jefferson Airplane in the scene where his home has been invaded and vandalized, as something threatening but I imagine that he used to listen to that kind of music as a young man before he became all ‘cold and dead’ inside, so it’s also liberating and nostalgic – a reminder of a time where he was enjoying his life instead of feeling like he owns it and being owned by it at the same time. When we have become ‘comfortably numb’ and lost touch with our true nature and the only creativity we use in our lives comes in a pretty box or with a price tag, then we feel threatened by that natural and powerful creativity – because it destroys the illusion of the comfort and makes us FEEL and become un-numbed. It is easier to look away than to embrace it. Because our natural creativity requires raising uncomfortable questions, making hard decisions, letting go of things we are used to, being the leader of our own lives instead of being part of the massive herd of ‘sheeple’.

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Nazi ‘sheeple’ without their own creative juices flowing, following the creative visions of a leader with really bad ideas about most things – an extreme example of the danger of being ‘comfortably numb’ and uncreative 

Creativity is so much more than the act of creating a piece of art, music, a dance or writing a story. It is the very foundation of life itself. It is in everything. As long as we are brave enough to withstand the comfort of going with the mainstream flow of ready made lifestyles and pre-made ideas and visions which are for sale and can be consumed through our TV screens, at the mall or in the magazines on our coffee tables.

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They Live (1988)

To be a waterfall

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I’m just about to watch the last two episodes of Stranger Things and I’m absolutely in love with it. I can’t even remember the last time I felt like this about a series – which is funny because I’m not that into sci-fi anyway and I never learned how to appriciate Stephen King. I have never even watched The Goonies for crying out loud! But I feel inspired. I want to use that inspiration in my art.

It seems like everything around me is floating around like a river without any clear shape or substance. I’m in a transitional phase in many areas. And I’m changing. Again. I have outgrown so many things, so many truths and so many mannerisms in my art. I feel like I am just starting over all the time. I am tired of starting over. I just want to BE. But I shouldn’t complain since growing and changing are both part of my self-empowerment process and that means everything to me. Of course my art has to change as I am going through an inner metamorphosis process. It’s only natural, but I’m tired of feeling like I have to let go of things in order to make room for something new. Perhaps I’m overthinking it, over-analyzing it – perhaps I just have to let things happen without thinking about it as much. I guess I’m just insecure about these things since I was struggling with blockages for a long time. I am always scared that I will get blocked again. But I am full of ideas. Over full actually. At the time of my creativity blockage, a friend told me: “As I see it, you are not blocked because you don’t have any ideas – you are blocked because you have TOO MANY ideas and you don’t know where to start and it paralyzes you and you end up blocked.”  I think he was right.

I am still a little ‘artistically constipated’ – it needs to come out. And I’m still a little unsure about in which order. I have to many ideas inside me, if you only knew. I have a list of ideas for paintings, another list for ideas for short stories, books and lectures. I have created a mythology based on my traumas that I want to use somehow, but I don’t know how or where to put it. In words. In pictures. Or both.

For a long time, I thought painting was my main artistic expression but my recent decision to make it secondary to my digital art has been a sense of relief. But I still don’t feel satisfied. Something is missing and some things are too much to hold inside, it all wants to come out. Maybe I’m just scared to lose control. Because I know if I would let it all out – I would not be able to stay in the ‘real’ world – I would be all consumed and swallowed up by my inner world. But I need to let it flow. I need to dare to let it flow. The last time I let it flow, I got sucked into it and ended up all burned out. But I won’t allow that to happen now. I know more now. I am stronger now.  But I’m also more cautious now. A little wounded. It is a difficult balance to lose control and to let my creativity flow without resistance – and to hold back so I don’t get too carried away in my ambition and passion. It’s like wanting to jump from a cliff into a waterfall but dressed in a diving suit. It’s not very graceful or liberating. I think I just have to be the waterfall.

I just have to keep going. I am on the right path even if I am too restless and eager at times. I just want to flow. Fall. Float. I want to be on fire. To fly.

But first I want to watch Stranger Things! (I get goosebumps every time I watch the into!)

The cool dance of independence

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All I can do in this heat wave is to do self therapy work and make research about the process of emotional independence. It’s a very difficult and complex process if you have been trained, like me, to be dependent/codependent all your life – to be a good girl (and by ‘good’ I mean no attempts to be independent or going after my own wishes and needs but only pleasing others), to obey, respect others while letting them disrespect me, lack of clear boundaries, low self-esteem and virtual no practice in independence what so ever because I haven’t been rewarded but punished for it.

The lack of independence is really my problem with codependency. After many years in trauma treatment and doing this self therapy work, I have finally understood my role in the “codependency dance” and why I’ve been so attracted to participate in the dance in the first place. Without this understanding and accepting my responsibility when it comes to being part of a codependency, I would never be able to break free and become independent. It takes two to dance, right? If I’d withdraw from the dance floor, I would break the pattern and the power of the codependency dance. Independence is a way cooler dance anyway. It’s all about walking the walk like I’m talking the talk – to stay true and being clear about who I am and what my boundaries are. It sounds so simple. But it’s not. To learn how to dance you have to practice and sweat until you’ll get it right. One step at a time, failure is part of the process and practice makes perfect. All clichés but true.

I need to practice on being much more clear when it comes to letting people know my boundaries and integrity. I need to be louder when I speak up in an uncomfortable situation. I need to improve my self-esteem. I need a steady income so I don’t feel dependent on other people to help me out. I want to practice self respect in order for other people to show me more respect. I want to be able to let go of taking on other people’s responsibility and guilt. It’s not easy being an empath and prone to feeling unnecessary shame and guilt, when it belongs to somebody else,  it can be such a heavy weight.

My process of independence is a very important key process in my self therapy. It’s not a coincidence that it’s happening now and not a few years ago, I wasn’t ready then. But I am now.

About pity party, love and worlds gone topsy turvy

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From my notebook about the “friends” I invite to join my pity party

I’ve been struggling with anxiety for a few days. There are just so many things up in the air right now, so many important processes in motion. I feel like I don’t have the strength or energy to deal with all of it,  simultaneously – but I have no other choice. And then I feel overwhelmed, lose my drive and host my own pity party (see video in my previous post) and end up with anxiety. The trick is to not let it get to you – just let the change happen without making any resistance.  If you are ready to change or if you are forced to change to adjust to a new situation – then resistance won’t have any impact on the result anyway. But it makes you feel in control for a while.

The more I understand about myself, the more I am able to relate to other people and understand their behavior as well as my own. It isn’t always a good thing. Especially not when they don’t want to hear your brilliant insights or aren’t interested in changing in order to become better people. It is frustrating at times. A spiritual or mental awakening is the biggest thing that can happen to a person, but at the same time it can make you feel intellectually lonely and socially misplaced. I don’t have many friends because I find myself on a different frequency than most people, but the few friends I do have mean the world to me. We share a frequency and a deep understanding of the value of life. Many of my friends have survived traumas or some kind of betrayal.

And because life’s been difficult and painful for both Johnny and me, we share a deep connection based on gratitude and appreciation for what we are able to build together. That and mutual respect for each other’s weaknesses and strengths. I am not used to being in a relationship based on respect. It’s both such a great foundation for our relationship but also the most confusing thing. Where I am expecting an aggressive reaction – he’s kind and accepting, in times when I think he’s gonna judge me for something, he’s embracing it. And when I expect him to betray me, he’s just holding my hand through whatever I’m going through. It makes my whole world go topsy turvy. I am so used to the opposite reactions. To be judged, humiliated, ignored, punished or neglected. The love I feel from Johnny restores all the broken pieces of my poor little heart. I am so grateful.

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I just have to get through this time of anxiety and worries without losing any momentum. I’ve worked too hard for this. I can’t let anything come in between me and my will to live my life as I am destined to live it and not as people expect me to live it. This is the process of independence and it’s scary as hell. And I love it.

Winds of change and understanding

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It’s been a windy week. I love the wind. It’s fresh and always moving in a clear direction. I like the energy of the determined movement. I’m spending the weekend thinking about my art and writing lists and notes about what digital art/painting really mean to me. I’ve found some surprising answers.

During the years of trauma treatment, I understood how I’ve been separating myself from the girl I use to be in the destructive relationships (the victim, the submissive Lolita, the sacrificing girlfriend etc). It’s like I’m doing the same separation in my art as well; I use my paintings to give the trauma a voice, and my digital art is more an expression of who I really am – a reflection of my dreams, fears and desires. My paintings is a collection of portraits of my demons, rage and pain. I make it all visible to be able to let it go.

This realization makes me look at my art and my creativity in a new way. I can see how I can use the two artistic expressions to tell a complete story – the story about myself. I use to believe that my paintings were my main artistic expression, but now I see that I can express more through my digital art but the raw core expressions comes out through my paintings. I guess I’ve been kind of conservative in the way I’ve been judging “physical” works as an art form with a higher value than digital works. What kind of a pioneer am I if I think like that? I have to be a warrior and to stand up for the digital art to make it as accepted as painting in the art world. When my friend and digital artist Joe Myers was still alive – we were planning to revolutionize the art world with a “digi wave”. I guess I owe it to him to go on fighting for the integrity and acceptance of the digital art.

These wild winds have brought me clarity. I feel like I can breathe again, without inhaling the haunting self doubt.

A change of heart

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Selfie, 2011

Everything feels a bit off and weird right now. I can sense a change coming. Another one. I can feel it. This time, the change is coming to me, I’m not forcing any processes to happen – it’s not coming from me. It makes me feel a bit lost. At times, I forget that I’m on this inner journey – I find a new level of my own consciousness and I feel awakened, like that’s the new reality for me to live in. But then, another breakthrough happens. I get these powerful realizations. Insights. The misfit pieces, suddenly have found the right places in me. Things that used to make me confused, suddenly makes more sense. I connect the dots. I see the bigger picture. Or I spot the lost and forgotten details, which are so crucial when it comes to understanding the bigger picture. This happened to me this week. Twice.

And here I am, not knowing what to do with what I found in myself this week. It is both liberating and also fucking scary, because this realization kind of forces me to change course in my art. I was NOT expecting that. I’ve been going with this ‘finding my way back to my art and the wonderful juices of creativity’ mantra for a couple of years now – and I thought I was in a steady place. In a place where neither doubt or a change of heart, could ever touch me. Boy, was I wrong.

The meeting with Mats Tusenfot and talking about the purpose of creativity inspired many new thoughts about my own art. I heard myself tell him (with no insecurity at all): “My digital art is my most true artistic expression, painting has too many limitations, digital art is where I can say what I want to say.” What the hell was I saying – why did I say it? Did I really mean it? Ever since I was 15 years old I’ve been painting and it’s been such a big part of my identity. That was how I started out as a young artist, I was a painter, and that is the core of my creativity and my artistic voice – isn’t it? My artistic voice is made out of colors in tubes, the smell of canvas, charcoal dust – it is not speaking in a binary language translated into hi res images and textures of clouds, waves and grungy walls in a folder on my computer, right? This is very confusing to me. Is my love for painting not the same thing as what I should be doing as an artist? Is my love for digital art forbidden and cheap?

“Scrollan” by Mia Makila, 2009, acrylic on canvas
“Phantom” by Mia Makila, 2011, digital

I need to figure these things out. And even if I feel a little lost and even if change can be a scary thing – I am not scared. The only thing I am certain of is that this is a time for a change that will lead to something lasting and steady. When it’s over, I will not have to struggle with self-doubt anymore and I won’t feel like I don’t know what my true artistic expression is. It is time to figure it out, once and for all. When I think about it – I’m  not at all lost right now – I think all these uncomfortable questions is a result of me taking control of every area of my life, including these sensitive matters. Because now, I am ready to explore who I really am as an artist. I know who I’ve been, I know who I became when I lost my way, I know what I am made of and what I’m capable of – but I still need to find out what my art really is about, so I can become everything I was born to be – and do what I was born to do. To be able to fulfill my life’s purpose. What a great journey I’m on. I am on my way.

I am on MY way.

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Selfie in my studio, 2009

Spending the day with my artist friend Mats Tusenfot

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Digital art by Mats Tusenfot

I’ve spent an amazing afternoon with my artist friend Mats Tusenfot (Mats Centipede) today. We are talking about making an art show together, somewhere, someday. It just feels like the most natural thing since our art is a little related, not only because of the digital media. I feel so inspired and full of energy! I don’t know many Swedish artists and I certainly don’t know many digital artists, so for me it’s important and wonderful to meet other digital artists who are familiar with my world and all the little details inside it (like hi res images of cocks, fruit, nipples, dead animals etc). Mats is a very inspiring artist with a lot of integrity and a clear layer of philosophy wrapped around his artistry (like the rings of Saturn) – something that really challenges my own way of looking at creativity and its purpose. I love that. It’s beautiful. And refreshing.

With my friend and digital artist Mats Tusenfot.

Photos from today

A moving vacuum

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giphy

Life is moving forward yet standing very still right now. It’s like a moving vacuum. I feel so restless. I have so much to do but my health won’t allow it – and at the same time I’m just waiting for things to happen. I’m waiting for my love to come here in a month. I’m waiting for sex. I’m waiting for a new job opportunity. For my health to get better so I can paint again. I’m waiting for any news about what’s happened to Domenique. Waiting and patience are not my best qualities. Underneath it all, I’m still waiting for my own wounds to heal better so they won’t bleed as soon as they are triggered. I’ve moved passed and beyond so many difficult things and I feel stronger than ever – but I’m still fragile and it’s still easy for me to be sucked back into old behavioral patterns. But at least I’m fighting it, overcoming each time it happens with grace and acceptance. I won’t ever give in to what feels familiar but destructive. It would be so easy to do, but at the same time it would be the biggest mistake and would ruin everything I’ve worked so hard for, for the last 3 years, it is simply too overwhelming to go there. It keeps me motivated to withstand the momentarily urges to fuck up my life again. Instead I’m protecting the good things I have. I’m practicing gratitude. Self respect. I’m staying on my path. Even though on bad days, I’m reminded of how attracted I’ve been to drama and the feeling of unworthiness. The trick is to just keep moving forward and never look back at the familiarity of the alluring self sabotage. The word in itself is a warning. I’d rather go through periods of vacuum and waiting than to surrender to anything that feels like the places I’ve been to before.

The fool

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It’s been raining on and off for days now and I’ve been feeling a little low because of the monthly hormones. I’ve been thinking a lot about where I am going. I’ve never been comfortable with the whimsical nature of the unknown. I always try to tame it, like if it’s a beast, by planning, thinking, dreaming and working hard to achieve something – anything to keep the void of the unknown from getting any closer. The future is my canvas to fill with my own texture, paint and light, but it’s just that the canvas keep changing shape, so my planned brush strokes sometimes miss its target and I end up painting outside the lines where the colors fade with the nothingness underneath. It is quite impossible to tame the unknown, but I’m always willing to try.  At least I have ambitions. I want to live my life without any limitations. To use everything I am in all my achievements. To never stop dreaming. I want to fulfill my life’s purpose. To love and to be loved – all the way. I want to make love without any inhibitions. I want to overcome every fear standing in the way of my curiosity. I want to overcome all the symptoms of PTSD – and to never have anxiety or panic attacks again. I know that through hard work and the right focus, I’ll be able to achieve some of these things, others will just happen naturally without my interference, because that’s how life works – and some of these things will remain a dream and a dream only because you can’t get everything you wish for. I accept that.

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Photo of my used napkins after crying so much, 2013

I’ve wasted too many years on the wrong things. On people who never deserved my time, love or ambition. On worrying. On being insecure and scared. I’ve wasted tears, heartache, headaches, for nothing. It wasn’t even important. It was just stupid and made no sense at all. I’ve been afraid to shine my light and to be who I am because I’ve been scared of being punished for it. To make other people feel uncomfortable around my rawness of strength, power and confidence. But now I’m feeling sad that some people can’t tolerate other people’s strength because it triggers their own inferiority. I wish they could be stronger than that, I wish they could let go of their insecurities and embrace themselves for who they really are. They would shine too. We all have that wonderful rawness inside. I could never go back to how things were. I could never accept being treated disrespectfully or to have my heart and head filled with darkness – a darkness which doesn’t even belong to me. I’m done being forced to carry other people’s darkness and hatred. I don’t deserve that. I never did. No ones does.

I’ve been such a fool throughout my adult life, not because I am stupid but because I’ve tolerated to be treated like one. That will never happen again. I’m only a fool for trying to tame the unknown, and I like that foolishness. It is a driving force. A foolish one perhaps, but it keeps me moving forward no matter what.

Den röda äggulan

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Jag kokar ägg
sex minuter
mjuk gula
inuti
stöter kroppen bort
mina egna ägg

Din längtan
ger dålig
eftersmak
när gulan rinner
ur mitt kön
med lättnad

En navelsträng
förbinder mig
med naturen
jag är djuret
en beige kontur
med morrhår

Jag äcklas
av tanken
när sköra armar
växer sig långa
naglar
river
min röda insida

En spricka
i min kropps
verklighet
drar mig sönder
trasar bort
allt som är rent
skriker som fan

Förbjuden rädsla
magen sjuder
av skam
skakar ut
sädesvätska
i panik
fostervattnet
läcker ut
ur tanken

Är jag en kvinna
eller ett barn
blöder svar
varje månad
droppar
ett språk
av smärta
och järn

– MIA MAKILA 2016

Mellanrummet

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Ett rum av kaninpäls
mellan oceanen
och tystnaden
solen biter sig fast
i din blick

Upplöst i ånga
tungans muskler
drar mig innåt
din mittpunkt
mopeder ligger som lik
framför sommaren

Måndagsräkor
med frostskador
varma ådror blinkar
längs Broadway
Bambi i ett blått kuvert
är en bomb

Faller som torn
dundrar ned bland dun
silvertrådar
mellan mina fingrar
tappar tyg
och verklighet

En tårtbit av liv
saknas
doften av min tid
pioner som dör
luckor av oupplevda
dagar

Fastnar som vibrationer
i en ovanlig frekvens

– Mia Makila 2016