Clint Watson

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How Do You Keep Going?

6/5/2013 8:35:41 AM by Clint Watson
 

My beloved cat of nearly 19 years, Hermes, died on Monday.

The hole in my heart is huge.  There's no color in the world.  I feel like a robot programmed to "get up, make breakfast, do work, make dinner, go to sleep, repeat."   

The thing is, if I feel this way from losing my pet, how do people deal with losing a spouse?  It's a double-edged sword.  If I went first, then I wouldn't have to deal with the pain of losing my spouse.  But I don't wish the pain on her either.  So it's inevitable for one of us.

How do you keep going?

How would you keep going with your art?

So, I sat here this morning, not wanting to do anything.  But what would I do, if I don't do anything?  Watch daytime soaps?  Sit in a dark room staring into space?

Then I read Seth Godin's blog.  He's celebrating his 5,000th post.  

He wrote, "While it's tempting to swing for the fences and hit a grand slam, particularly on post 5,000, I'm going to resist, as I try to resist every day. Drip, drip, drip."

"Drip, drip, drip."  - That could be an answer.

I could at least write a short blog post.  I thought.  So I did.

I could at least fix a small bug in our code.   I thought.  So I did.

I could at least look through that stack of mail on my desk.  I thought.  So I did.

drip. drip. drip.   

I think this is what separates the "pros" from the "joes".  Pros do the work, even when they don't want to.   Joes play only when they feel like it.

Winston Churchill said, "If you're going through hell, keep going."  And, I'm a pro, so that's what I'm going to do.  So while my output may be ragged and slower than normal.  I'm here for our customers.  At my desk, doing my best.

drip.  drip.  drip.


 

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Exactly what I'm doing today too! I'm having to process some difficult news I received this morning. Thanks for the confirmation.

Posted by kohlene · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Write another comment . . .

Posted by kohlene · via faso.com · 156 months ago

I like that drip, drip, drip - this turns into a steady steam with less time than you think.

Sorry for your loss, I lost my cat of 23 years, very very hard. Please open your heart to adopt a shelter animal how needs you and just wants to love you back.

Thank you for the wonderful post.

Posted by karen · via faso.com · 156 months ago

When my dog died, I cried non stop for 4 days. Then I got on with life. Sometimes I think work is the best medicine.

Hubby and I also went away for 2 days to a B and B. That helped by getting us in a different environment.

Posted by Lori Woodward · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Clint:

Nineteen years is a long time. I know how you must feel, as I'm quite an animal lover myself, and have had to part with many faithful furry friends. I allowed myself a few days for grief and contemplation, and I didn't beat up on myself for not working for several days. Then the urge to get on with life began to stir, as I know it will for you. So sorry to hear of your loss!

Posted by Marsha McDonald · via faso.com · 156 months ago

It is rough losing a loved one... no doubt about it. Keeping active is good -- BUT you also need to take time to reflect... pause for memories and all that Jazz. It is a delicate balance.

Posted by Brian Sherwin · via faso.com · 156 months ago

I understand and am so sorry. As a trappist monk told a group of us once, the only way around pain is right through the middle of it and simply to "do the next thing....and the next thing....and the next thing...".

So, I "walked right it", wrote the following blog post via FASO on my website, and then kept going, as you say, "drip, drip, drip"...

http://maryaslin.com/?keyvalue=4132andpage=BlogandTopic=Loss

Posted by Mary Aslin · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Good advice.... When you're hurting especially.

Thanks for keeping on.

Posted by Marian Fortunati · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Aww, I feel for you. We lost our home in the big Bastrop, Texas, fire in 2011, along with 1696 other homes and with 50 years of "stuff". My dripping is slowly becoming a trickle. Best wishes to you. Thanks for the post.

Posted by Jo Castillo · via faso.com · 156 months ago

The actual link to the blog noted above:

http://maryaslin.com/blog/7475/my-beloved-dog-dedicated-to-my-pet-sitter-amber

....and I must say that having a forum to express my grief at the loss of my dog in the context of my art was....well...indescribable...I thank you for that and again, I am so sorry for your loss.

Posted by Mary Aslin · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Well, this was just exactly what I needed today. I had a disappointment this week -- not a loss like yours, for which I am so sorry. Mine was, in the big picture, a minor disappointment. My initial response was to shrug it off, but yesterday I started to sink into a funk. Your post hit me square in the heart of it -- back to my paints!

Oh, and Hermes must have received a lot of tender loving care to reach the great age of 19! What a gift.

Posted by Cheryl Kellar · via faso.com · 156 months ago

So sorry to hear you lost your beautiful boy Hermes.

Your tender story touched me deeply. These lovely creatures (I confess to a very strong attachment to siamese - have had several throughout my life), make their way into our hearts and never leave.

I know when your time comes you will be in the right place with Hermes head resting in your hand.

Stay strong ”" keep painting . . . drip, drip, drip. Hermes knows that sound!

Posted by Virginia Boulay · via faso.com · 156 months ago

I feel for you. Thank you for your encouragement.

I recently lost my job, so keeping one foot in front of the other and trying to figure out how to be more creative and do great art keeps me going everyday. Some days I don't want to do anything but wallow in my distress, but I go into my art room and just start doing something. Then I am ok.

Posted by Pamela Beer · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Nineteen years, what a good life he had. I sure love cats, too, and have lost a few good buddies along the way. Sending you a big hug.

I love the post, this drip, drip, drip. Being an artist is really just doing the work every day. Yes, there is great inspiration, but it's the day to day that keeps me on track. Thanks and be well and keep on keeping on.

Posted by Penny Otwell · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Good Morning Clint:

I extend my empathy in your loss of Hermes. Several platitudes come to mind but in my experience they aren't helpful. I like this post - the analogies in particular. Your story moved me and my tearducts are drip, drip, dripping. I admire the strength it must have taken to share this with the rest of us. Thankyou. Lesley

Posted by lesley white · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Cats are some of the best people.
Decorate that empty hole with art, with color, with memories and sounds, smells and music.
Don't look for the day the pain goes away, it doesn't.
Fondly remember and keep on going.

Posted by Bill Curtis · via faso.com · 156 months ago

The older I get (62) the fewer answers I have for the mysteries of life. I have millions of people before me that helped me get to this time and place. I have yesterday to remind me just how precious today is. I am at an age where a number of friends and a whole lot of parents (mine and friends) are leaving us. The example of their daily lives, balancing the sorrow and joy, loss and success, inspires me to each day strive to LIVE my life. Life is for the LIVING.

Posted by Kevin Beck · via faso.com · 156 months ago

I painted my pain, I clung to art like a life raft, a flickering of joy kept me going. I am healed, I have grown, I am a better person. You will be also.

Posted by patricia Dee · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Regarding your cat and the empty hole...I know very
well as I lost my husband recently. But...I do
know that I am still happier in my studio than
any where else planning paintings, painting and
just being there! It took a little time but it all
returns! Also...Did you ever do a newsletter on
"How To Set Up An ART BLOG?" I would love to just
dash one out a few times a week...tell about a recent discovery in creating a painting, etc. Let
me know. Thanks! Doris Olsen



Posted by Doris Olsen · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Doris - I can't imagine losing a spouse. The fact you are still going to your studio and making your beautiful art is an inspiration to us all.

I don't think we've done a newsletter on setting up an art blog, but I notice you have a FASO site. All you have to do is add "blog" to your navigation bar and click the "StudioQuill Blog" icon (it looks like an antique quill pen) in the toolbar to start posting.

If you need our support team to help set that up, just please open a ticket and they'll get you taken care of.

Posted by Clint Watson · via faso.com · 156 months ago

I'm sorry for your pain, your loss of your friend.
An animal means as much as people do, to so many of us. So much gratitude for their love and their tender affection. Just to be able to touch them again becomes all we want and seems the only thing that could possibly make such pain in our hearts go away. It will get better. Take it fifteen minutes at a time if you have to. My condolences to your wife, also, I am sure her pain is very great.

Posted by Lee Mitchelson · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Clint, my heart breaks for you. I have recently lost a beloved cat. The hurt is deep, and overwhelming. But we do have to soldier on, stiff upper lip as my English family would say. Drip, drip, drip is a very good way of putting it. Things still need to get done, even through the initial pain. But it is also OK to take the time to grieve....and then pick yourself up and move on. You will go to the easel and painting will happen.
I can't speak to loss of a spouse, it is unimaginable to me.
Bless you and Hermes,
Sandra

Posted by Sandra Pearce · via faso.com · 156 months ago

When my daughter was 12 we took riding lessons and she fell in love with horses. I had loved them all my life but never had one. That summer we bought our first horse. My daughter went on to become a firefighter in a large city and to own 11 horses. She loved them so much she even took in rescues. 2/1/2008 she was taking a Dressage riding lesson and a child started up a motorized toy car just outside the arena where she was riding. Her horse spooked and she fell off hitting her head. She was rushed to BAMC (a military hospital) where she had surgery that was successful--they said. 28 days later at the age of 39 she died of MERSA, never having woke up. You cannot know pain until you have lost a child. I had lost dogs, cats, horses and my Mom and Dad, but nothing hurts like the loss of a child.

Posted by Connie Burkhardt · via faso.com · 156 months ago

You are right, Connie. There would be no pain in the world that would compare to losing a child....absolutely no pain in the world like that. And losing a spouse, Doris, ....incomprehensible. My heart goes out to you both.

Posted by Mary Aslin · via clintavoblog.fineartstudioonline.com · 156 months ago

Thank you Mary. You are right. Without my art and my horses I could not go on.

Posted by connie burkhardt · via clintavoblog.fineartstudioonline.com · 156 months ago

Clint,
I am so sorry for your loss; it hurts like hell. I understand about the robot thing and I hope your happy memories will help you. Our pets are so often more dear to us than many of the people in our lives. We are so fortunate to have them to love.
Take care of yourselves. Drip,drip, drip.
Janet

Posted by Janet Triplett · via faso.com · 156 months ago

I know your pain. You can easily picture Hermes coming into the room right now. I cried for days after losing my little dog, Precious.

I did a painting in bright, vibrant colors to cheer me up, but only time heals that hole in your heart. I took comfort in knowing that we gave Precious the best life any dog could have. I'm sure you did the same with Hermes.

That was 6 months ago. Last week, my husband came home with a shelter dog named Maggie. I wasn't ready. When he accidentally called her "Pooch", our pet name for Precious, I lost it again.

But, slowly, Maggie is trying to be my friend. She makes me laugh. You will laugh again.

Posted by Carol Nelson · via faso.com · 156 months ago

So sorry for your loss of your cat Hermes. What you wrote is well put and so true about '...drip, drip, drip'. It seems the operative phrase is always 'just keep going'.
The mental processing of the event is like trying to hold back waves continually rolling into shore. The loss, with all of its emotional weight, feels endless in the number of times it rolls across your mind. But the physical 'doing' of even small steps in each day is what gets you through, keeps you balanced, robotic or not. Physical actions, rituals and routines provide that necessary distraction and needed sense of purpose to move you toward a new day. Keep going. You do such great work.

Posted by Carl Dalio · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Connie - I am sorry to hear of your loss. If you have found a way to keep going after losing a child, then the rest of us can certainly keep going as well. Thank you for sharing your painful story with us.

Posted by Clint Watson · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Thank you everyone for your encouragement.

Posted by Clint Watson · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Clint, tears are running as I read your tribute to your beloved Hermes and about your loss.

Isn't it amazing what these seemingly small creatures can add to our lives and what they teach us, though they do big leave holes when they depart.

Your stories reminded me so much of our beloved Siamese who lived to 19 and was quite the character. 5 years later we still talk about him.
Thank you

Posted by Carol McIntyre · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Clint,
First of all, I'm so sorry to hear you lost your cat! Pets are a misnomer... they are part of the family for sure. I once lost a "pet" guinea pig. It was devastating. I cried. That little guy stole my heart!

...And secondly for "getting it"..... your understanding about hanging in there and continuing to "paint", regardless of the outcome - tells me you've been in the trenches one way or another. It's not an easy battle, and the key to success, selling, whatever one wants to call it.... is not a battle to be taken on lightly. For whatever it's worth, I think the cure is to just be so damn good you can't be ignored. I'm working on it!

Thanks for your always good articles and thoughts!!
Best,
Bill Dunn

Posted by William Dunn · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Thank you, Clint. I did not mean to intrude on your space but, your loss of your sweet cat brought it all back as though it were yesterday. My art and my horses have kept me going.
Without them and a sweet part pit puppy someone dumped at my gate the Christmas after she died I would be lost.

Posted by connie burkhardt · via clintavoblog.fineartstudioonline.com · 156 months ago

Clint,

Maybe it helps to remember that the measure of your grief relates to the significance of the relationship - which means you were blessed to have such a strong connection with Hermes.

Thank you for writing about DO-ing during tough times. The lesson applies to all sorts of trying and uninspiring troughs in the ups and downs of creativity.

Best Wishes,
Dorothy

Posted by dorothy · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Connie - you've shared something very personal, very tragic and, at the same time, it has elements of beauty (in that your art and your horses have kept you going and, in some ways, may have saved you).

That took a LOT of courage on your part to share publicly and I thank you for that.

If you don't mind, I'm going to refer to what you've shared in another blog post I'm working on. I'm not going to name you by name (unless you want me to), but I'm working on a post about the importance in having the courage to share things on a blog that are scary to share publicly because those "scary" things, ultimately, are the stories that matter and the stories that connect us to each other.

So I want to reference your story briefly as a small part of that post without naming you by name, if that's OK.

Posted by Clint Watson · via clintavoblog.fineartstudioonline.com · 156 months ago

Clint, About thirty years ago my brother died of carbon monoxide poisoning in his home. He was 45. I am 18 years younger than he. I had a two year old and a 3 month old when he died. Because he was so much older than I, we didn't have an adult relationship for very long. Having post partum depression made for a very difficult time. As I have blogged before, I was a scientist who chose to be a stay-at-home mom. My brother's death lead me to art. I was always doing creative things [decorating, cooking, etc] but I knew nothing about creating paintings. Shortly after his death, by chance I happened to see Bill Alexander on the one TV channel that we received and I thought creating art looked pretty easy [boy... was I wrong!!] I wouldn't have seen his show, had I not been home with my children. I know a lot of people make fun of the cookbook art that is like his, but it pulled me out of my grief and lead me to a career in art. Teaching myself how to paint when I was clueless kept me focused. I always work, whether I feel like it or not. Drip, drip, drip.....

Jan

Posted by Jan Stommes · via faso.com · 156 months ago

Yes Clint, that is okay. I have actually used her death to try to get horse riders of all ages and styles to wear a helmet when they ride. A good friend of mine was riding and knew I was an advocate for using helmets so when she fell off and hit her head on a post she lived to tell about it because she wore a helmet!

Posted by connie burkhardt · via clintavoblog.fineartstudioonline.com · 156 months ago

Two summers ago my soon to be 25 year old niece died suddenly when a big wind blew and a huge tree was uplifted and crashed into her pick-up cab. She died instantly. We were very close. Sadly due to family turmoil related to other things at the time No one told me and I was not welcome to her funeral.
The way I coped was to but dozens of flowers. I put them in a wheel barrow and rolled it out to my irrigation ditch. I had 2 lbs. of sugar also. I arranged the flowers up and down in the ditch,in trees and in the grasses that grew. I took jelly beans and threw them every where. I shook cookies sprinkles on the ground and poured sugar while drawing squiggles and spirals on the dirt. Later in the day I took photos of all the combinations of elements that went into celebrating her life and her death.
That week I started drawing a large charcoal drawing and some smaller drawings. They were all about the energy I felt and my niece's embodiment of that energy.
I drew a horse that was black and swirling like it was made from the cosmos. I wrote poetry. A couple weeks after that we had a huge forest fire in my area. I met a woman whose horses had all died in the fire. The horse art I had been making that symbolized death and rebirth was a small stretch to becoming horses and flames. I let it keep coming through tears and dancing and sitting....lots of sitting.
One day I have promised myself I will visit her grave and plant Tiger Lilies all around it. Her favorite flower.I was blessed to have spent so much time with her when she was alive. We rode horses, made art,went river rafting and walked our dogs in the woods. We danced and acted silly all the time. I have nothing but good memories even in her mourning I was glad to feel such saddness as reflected how close we were. Making art seemed a natural thing to do. More natural than trying to make art when I don't feel connected.

Posted by Kristin Kreger · via faso.com · 156 months ago

So sorry for your loss. Your advice is good.Drip, drip, drip. Keep going. Do something. I'm reminded of the buffalo when a winter storm hits. It turns face first into the bitter wind and storm.

Posted by Pete Brown · via faso.com · 156 months ago

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