Sketches – 78

[The following conversation took place a few years ago. – Owen]

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So why did you decide to come out here to work?

I don’t know.
Being home was getting to me

You’ve been seeming kind of depressed

I am.
I’m a little lost, professionally

Explain

Being in the arts is… very precarious.
No matter how you slice it, it actually is
A popularity contest.
Do people want to see my work?
To buy it?
Or do they prefer someone else’s?

… and…?

… and, it feels like
I don’t have any friends anymore.

How so?

I text people, but
They don’t text back…
Unless they need something.
I miss having girl friends to do things with.
I’d love a game night, a trivia night,
You know, someplace where I can just let go.

…

I don’t know, I just
Feel wrong.
Unimportant.
Like what I do doesn’t matter,
Like I don’t matter, and
Like.. garbage, really

Does sitting outside help?

Yes.
It’s peaceful out here

Good

So…
What do you think about what I just said?

That, that’s got to be really hard,
Feeling all of that.
Depression is really… hard

Yes.
Do you have any suggestions?

Your work is amazing, and it (and you) will find your audience.
Friends are hard. I don’t have a great answer there other than to say
Not to give up trying. If I wasn’t your husband, I’d want to be your friend,
Because you’re pretty cool

Thank you.
Why don’t you and I do something this weekend?

Like what?

Why don’t we go up to Bugg’s Mill Farm tomorrow?

I don’t think so. I’m not really a farmer

It’s not farming. It’s horseback riding

I don’t know… oh, okay.
I’ll go.
But I hear it’s supposed to rain.

Thank you.
Please don’t think when I’m depressed it’s because
I don’t appreciate you

That thought has crossed my mind.
But — I hear — everything is not about me

Hard to fathom isn’t it?