As I’m going out of the apartment yesterday, zipping down the new huge coat cause it’s really freezing outside, my phone rings, I’m not used to it ringing, it almost never does, not on Friday evening anyway, for a second I think it might be someone who would want to come to movie night and is being late, but they usually not call me for that. The rest of the group, him and 3 more friends are already going down the stairs, on the way to a restaurant, realizing we are all hungry. I don’t recognize the number on the screen, and I answer with my American Hello, which is a calmer nicer version of the Israeli “Hallo?!”I’m hearing hebrew from the other side of the line, it takes me a sentence or two to recognize the voice on the other side, a friend from Israel, it’s a nice surprise, he’s telling me about quitting work today cause there’s not enough time in his schedule for both school and work and how he felt like he needs to concentrate more on school then on work. He’s asking me about what I’m doing tonight and I tell him about going out to eat and then going back to the apartment to watch a movie, I’m telling him about the New York weather and how it got so cold all of a sudden.And then he asks the big one, the big question that’s pecking in my brain all the time, the one that somehow is underneath all the other “how are you doing?” questions or at least, that’s how it feels to me. He asks about work, he asks about if I know what I want to do already. And somehow, that kicks me right in the soft belly. I tell him the truth, that I don’t really know, that I love making art as much as I can right now, but that no, I haven’t really taken it into any galleries or done anything with that. I really feel like after being honest about it, he should have the grace to leave me alone with it. But he doesn’t, he say “you have an amazing privilege now, being in New York, where all the culture is, you should make a book and sell it, it’ll be amazing” And I try to explain that it’s not as easy as he make it sound, and then, mostly out of anger I tell him that today with the internet he could do the same, he could make a book and send it to publishers over here and it’s not different then me at all, and he say that he can’t cause he’s busy with school and I get close to the restaurant and we end up the conversation.I don’t think he realize that his words hurt me, I think that as usual he wanted to be nice and his niceness often takes the shape of advice and that his advice, being that he doesn’t really understand much about the graphic design market or the art scene often make me feels like every thing’s supposed to be much easier then I think it is and how strange it is that I’m not an international success already and that this is all my fault. And hell, I can’t argue with that, cause the truth is that ever since I got here, I didn’t fail anything, and the only reason for that is that I didn’t really try.We sit at the restaurant, and we all talk, and someone ask me how I’m doing, and I talk about dealing with the emotions that marriage brought up, and that I’ve been making a lot of art as a result. But I feel like in those words I apologies, that I’m talking about feeling just to mask the fact that I can’t, like everyone else at the table, talk about work.At night, I sleep for over 12 hours, dreaming about abortions, and hospitals and pets I didn’t want and a lot of those things, and I wake up in such a foul mood, looking at my watch, it’s over 3:00 PM, which makes me feel even worst.I did so much stuff this week, I went figure drawing 3 times, I wrote a blog entry, I was working on a website, learning the program slowly from the book, I went to an exhibition opening I had a piece in, I wrote 2 letters, cooked a bunch of meals, finished a sketchbook drawing and started a new one, finished an audio book, found my way to a friend’s apartment on my own and realize I’m no longer scared about getting lost in New York and yet I feel like such a slacker, like I haven’t done anything.”Get a life, get a life, get a life” Some evil part of my brain is telling me, and I remind myself michael kors canada that a while ago, someone commented that in my blog and I thought about the fact that I was having quite a respectable amount of life, and that usually when people say “get a life” then just mean “get a better paying job so you don’t have the time to think so much” and then that evil part of my mind starts again “Get a job, get a job, get a job” and I remind that part of my brain that I already got a job, that I’m an artist and that this past month been very productive, that I made more art in it then I probably did in any other part of my life, and then it changes it’s tune again and say “get paid, make money, get paid” and I can’t really argue with that.I left work almost 5 months ago to come to New York, I’ve been here for the past 4 and a half month. I expected to be working by now, to be productive. “No” I remind myself again “You are productive, you are just not making money” but that sounds lame to me today. I should have been acclimated already, I should have been a tax paying productive member of society instead of go on living on my husband expense. I feel lazy, guilty, I feel like a leach. I don’t like fe michael kors canada eling this way. And it’s weird how something small as putting a financial value on what I do anyway for free making art, making illustrations, something technical as putting money in a bank account, would right now give me a whole meaning to life.I hate talking about money, I remember that this is where my therapy stopped, ages ago, with me and my therapist starting to approach the whole issue of money, and then, me stopping the therapy cause I felt emotionally strain by having a session with her and a couple therapy session as well, and I wonder if part of the reason I stopped was also cause I know I would have to deal with money now and I was too scared to do that. I hate thinking about money, I hate making it, I don’t even like spending it that much, but I do miss the sense of security that a study income provides, and I do miss the sense of accomplishment of an art piece or an illustration being paid for gives me. I miss it without ever having it before. Somedays I feel as if I work for flickr, like putting up images and people responding to it is the way I get paid by compliments or praises. like that artistic interaction is similar to the satisfaction of a client or my boss at the old office.I really don’t know what to do about it now “Get an agent” a practical part of my mind say” and then I answer michael kors canada “Maybe I need a better website before I do that” or “A better portfolio” or “just make a PDF file and e mail it” or “f you are doing then then better just make a CD and give it to galleries so you can be an artist and not settle for illustration” and the plan just falls cause there are too many things to do and I don’t know what’s the right answer is. And it all go back to having a better starting point, but then I realize that it’s not even a better starting point but a better me that I’m looking for, that I don’t see myself as being good enough for anything right now. And then my mind just go back to “get a life, ge michael kors canada t a life, get a life”.My computer’s not at it’s usual spot right now. It feels strange sitting at his desk which is taller then mine, and look through the window rather then have an over view if the room that is now behind me. The chair feels different under my ass and the noises that are coming from the outside, a truck in the distance, a beat of music from the downstairs studio going through the old heater pipes, the voice of Ben, the Neighbor’s son laughing as he crosses the hall sounds different, just on account of this different observation point.I’m tired, my whole body’s aching, I feel like I did a lot of sports last night, but I didn’t. My mind is half not working and half working too fast. I want to sleep, to take a nap, but laying down in bed for a while, I just couldn’t shut down my brain and rest. This under hyper awareness that is close to anxiety, but not really, just the feeling of not quite knowing where I am, who I am, what I feel, what I see, what I hear.I’m the background, from the speakers of his computer, the wedding mix that we’ve been working on for the past couple of weeks, it’s have about 90 songs in it, and certain parts of it I already know by heart, already knowing which song would come after which song. But right now the music sounds different to me, I find out new songs in it, that I didn’t even remember was a part of it. I’m making another cup of tea.I wonder around the apartment, trying to put things back in order, throwing out paper cups half filled with wine, setting the empty bottles of champaign and red wine in one corner, taking the fruits out of the fruit plate and putting them on the counter, filling the empty water jug with fresh water, putting aside the unused paper plates and cups. I want the apartment to look like it usually does, not as if a big event just happened here last night. I clean the table top, that in ordinary days I use as a desk with a sponge. The only present that we opened I put aside, folding the thin blue wrapping paper and ribbon and putting aside the box.In the middle of the room still stand the Chupa, It’s blue and made of thin fabric, much like that wrapping paper I just folded, and spray painted with a million ravens in a spinning vortex with our two stars in the middle. I stand under it and realize as I have in many moments today “We just got married, we are husband and wife now” My thumb slide over the wedding band on my left hand, which I’m still very aware off, my skin isn’t used to the feeling of wearing a ring yet. My eyes drift to the bed, looking at him as he move and stretch in his sleep, still in jeans and sweatshirt, he turns his face from me and wrap himself with the blanket.What was I expecting to feel today? I don’t quite know, what am I feeling mostly weariness, tired, overly excited and worn down. The past couple of weeks had been so exhausting, with wedding preparation and wedding emotions, with fear of the future and happiness of the present and reflection of the past. With trying to figure out so many substantial ideas, such as relationship, marriage, love, forever, family, and so on. And suddenly, it’s over. Not really over cause I still have my life and they are still the same as they were, only different. There are still things to take care of, phone calls to make, gifts to open, e mails to write. There are a whole bunch of errands and plans that kept getting pushed to “After the wedding”.Yesterday, as people were starting to arrive, trying to get both a friend and my sister to have camera connection with me, being stressed about things going wrong, about people not coming or not enjoying yourself. I was noticing everything. I was half writing this blog entry in my mine, making sure I don’t forget anything, not forget how beautiful everybody was and how moved I was by them being there, to celebrate with me. But as more and more people came in, I got so moved, so swept away by the magnitude of my emotions I didn’t remember to tell myself the story of that moment. It was one of those very rare moments for me, in which I just exist, just am, not thinking, not analyzing my life as I live them, but simply, being, and simply, being happy.We stood under the Chupa, as the rabbi was speaking, just the tree of us, with some family and friends all around us. He was talking, reading from the “song of songs” and from a Bob Dylan song. It was beautiful, and moving. I was so excited I can’t even remember the exact words. Something about us being so open with out life we bring our whole community into it, and I was looking at the computer screen and on my two friends in Israel looking at the wedding and I’m thinking of our blogs and photos and how the love that we share inside, as deep at it goes also seem to project outside and wrap the entire world. And he’s talking farther about how like this wedding, that is jewish but at the same time, is very much our own and how we do things our way. And a part of me is agreeing with that while another part is really amazed at the wonderful things he sees in me and I feel proud to be a part of this union, a part of a life time of doing things our own way that is ahead of us.3 hours after I wrote this, I wake up from a nightmare, I fell asleep eventually and let some of the stress come up to the surface. I dreamed about us, living in the apartment we are in now, only it looked just like my grandparents old house. I dreamed about loosing a couple of my teeth just having them fall out like baby teeth, and I’m holding them in my mouth cause I don’t know what to do with them. And I’m scared about telling him that the teeth fell out, like that makes me some backward neglectful person, and I don’t know what dentist to call and whether to wait for my visit to Israel to have them fixed or to go to a dentist in New York. And then, taking the teeth out of my mouth, I see that they almost melted down in my mouth like candy and are now just a see throw shell, and that scares me so much I throw them out to one of the plastic bags I was gathering the garbage from the wedding into earlier today.And Then I get a phone call from a friend in Israel, he say hello and then he disappear, I can hear him breathing on the other side of the line, heavily, like he is either asleep or very ill. And I try to wake him up yelling into the phone but he just keep breathing. I let the phone down and going to open the windows, cause suddenly it’s just so hot in the room and even though I let the phone down I can still hear his breathing. And I don’t know what to do.After waking up, I feel better, still tired and stressed but like I slept for hours and hours. Only then I realize that I was so stressed before.We planned to take a day off today and just be together doing nothing, as it turned out, we took a day of entirely just sleeping and resting not even being with each other, not even being with ourselves. Just taking time, I guess to process everything. I still feel tired and numb, I’m scared, I know it’s going to change in a day or two, that I’ll feel creative and passionate and happy and full of life, but it scary to get married and feel so empty afterwards.