Quick Crosspost

I was just writing to Reagan that it's been a long time--

That's as far as I got before I put down my pen and reached for the laptop to write this post.

Because what I was telling him is that it's been a long time since I've posted to any of my blogs. I do so so so much writing to Reagan that I never have much left over for blogging. And since I'm in my era of hedonism I haven't forced myself to update.

But I'm doing fine. Having a chill time, doing lots of cooking, drawing, and reading. The things I love.

The letters I'm sending to Reagan seem to be getting longer. Sometimes I wonder if I'm overwhelming him. I still go two weeks or more at a stretch without hearing from him. The last letter I got was long and wonderful, though. Here's the extra special bits:

It's kind of crazy here [at Pendleton] since our DIs are able to get
away with ITing us [obscene amounts of pushups] more due to the lack
of officers compared to MCRD but! the good news is I'm pretty
unscathed by it. Being the platoon Picasso gets me out of a LOT of
trouble, since all the DIs need me, if they want drawings. ... Anyway,
I'm drawing every day now, sometimes hours at a time. My senior DI is
having me plot some paintings for him and some other DIs so I'll be
learning to use acrylics. Never thought bootcamp would teach me this
much about art!

The stuff I've been drawing isn't my super best, simply due to the
conditions I'm drawing in (literally hunched in a corner feet away
from DIs thrashing people and throwing things all over) but it's been
steadily improving. Also, I'm known as "Nickelodeon" to most of the
company DIs, since usually all they know is that I did something for
Aatar, so I've been having them come out of nowhere ASKING me if I'll
draw them, their motorcycles, batman, etc.

I'm also starting to be put on a different schedule from the rest of
the platoon. Like I do the required training with them, drill, rifle
stuff, most of the PT and Knowledge classes, but whenever the platoon
is doing less vital things I usually end up at the scribe's desk
drawing, or drawing in the Duty Hut, which is the mysterious DI lair
only a few recruits get to behold.

The only way it could've been a better letter was if he had been more responsive to my letters. In eight half-pages, he only references things I've sent him twice. The give and take, question and reply, is what is so great about our communications at all other times.

I wonder if he doesn't get to write to me more because he's so amazing and doing special projects for the DIs. Annoying!

But I'm doing okay. Keeping in touch with friends, especially one new and one old who keep me sane. Aspects of the situation are annoying, but I can't change most of them so I do my best to keep them from getting under my skin.

Here's some art I spent several hours on today.

Hedonathon, Day 2

On the bottom, a small collection of paint doodles I'll send to Reagan before turning in. That's just the front, I'll be filling in the back after I post this.

On top: a mini painting inspired by a quote from Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine:

"I'm alive," Douglas said. "But what's the use? They're more alive than me. How come? How come?"
And standing alone, he knew the answer, staring down at his motionless feet...

Such words have filled my state of mind like a hand in a glove at certain points in the past couple days.

March is a month of pleasure seeking for me. As long as I can stand it, I will do only the things I want to do*. I broke that rule a little bit today when I typed up 3500 words of Reagan's letters to me, but other than that, I'm enjoying my hedonistic lifestyle.

(*Except I will write to Reagan and keep the kitchen clean, even when I don't feel like doing those things)

I cook. I read. I bake cookies. I paint and draw and write the things I enjoy painting and drawing and writing, not things I feel I should be doing but nobody takes pleasure from, not even me.

Perhaps this is irresponsible, to live a life without struggle and discipline while my husband is suffering through a life of nothing but struggle and discipline, but I know (and am glad) this is a temporary state for me. Instead of fighting the limbo and rootlessness, I'm going to fully revel in having no obligations, not even to myself.

At one point, when I was in a bleak and rebellious mood, I stated that I was going to do as little as possible for as long as I could stand it. Fortunately, that's not actually what happens when I indulge myself and do what I want. I still make art, and still do work I'm pleased with, I'm just not making the mistake of instructing myself to be industrious with it.