Keyword: drips

  • Nope

    “Nope” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Mama said there’d be days like this.

    Sometimes when we’re feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, or sad, we simply need a time out. 

    Or pizza. 

    That was the prescription our midwife gave us after Lucy was born. Kim and I had come into the delivery day mentally depleted, our first child already a few weeks overdue. Then the labor itself was a marathon. After the birth, Kim almost fainted because of a drop in blood pressure. As she recovered, it was on me to put on Lucy’s first diaper and figure out out to dress a four-hour-old (it’s like trying to gift-wrap Jell-O) before clearing an inch of ice from our car so we could drive home from the birth center. 

    The prospect of going home to attend to the 24/7 needs of a newborn was overwhelming, to say the least.  Aware of our exhaustion and sensing our uncertainty, our midwife said, “You know what I want you to do? When you get home, I want you to order in the biggest, cheesiest, gooiest deep-dish pizza ever, and savor it.”

    And we did. It was glorious.

    It was just the little treat we needed to keep going. We still rely on the magical properties of pizza from time to time. 

    Sometimes we require something stronger, like a “sick of it” day. In most workplaces, if you have the flu, a persistent cough, or you’re going through more Kleenex than me watching the opening scenes of “Up,” you get to take a sick day and stay home from work. But what if you have a case of the Mondays (or a case of November)? 

    Kim and I recommend taking a “sick of it” day. (You can still tell your boss it’s a “sick day.”) It’s kind of like playing hooky, but it’s really a chance to shift momentum and throw life a curveball for a change. You can do anything you want, but no work and no chores. Treat yo self. 

    But what happens when those days mama warned us about turn into weeks, or months, or years?

    Our body will tell us if we’re paying attention. I like to think of our negative emotions as a check engine light for our body and soul. You know, the light that illuminates our vehicle’s dashboard to tell us that something’s off. Most people handle it like my father-in-law handled the check engine light on his old Chevrolet Celebrity – with a thick black piece of electrical tape, hiding the light from view. 

    Problem solved!

    Or not. Ignoring a problem rarely works. If you’re in a funk right now or enduring a hard season, it might be time to call a time-out and see what the inner check engine light is trying to tell you.

    I preach the power of optimism. But it’s unrealistic to expect we can go through life on a positive high all the time (and I’m leery about people who seem to do so). 

    Maybe you’re experiencing caregiver fatigue. Maybe it feels like everything you touch turns to shitake. Or maybe you’re burned out from the last three years of pandemic, politics, and pivoting. 

    It’s ok. Welcome to the Human Club. You’re normal!

    We don’t have to be afraid of feeling the feels and examining what they have to teach us.

    Uncomfortability can be useful. We need to pay attention to our inner check engine light, not ignore it with a never-ending Netflix marathon, a bottle of wine, or any of the countless ways we self-medicate to numb ourselves to escape our pain.

    It’s giving us a heads-up that something may need to be addressed. For me, it’s usually a warning that I need to ease up on adding new commitments to my calendar, a reminder to spend more time in my secret hideout, or an invitation to get a little more rest. (Often it’s a combo of all three.)

    This approach from Steve Jobs is a good guide. He said, “For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been no for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”

    Are you in need of a change? It might be time to talk to someone, like a counselor, pastor, or medical professional. Maybe you need to take that difficult first step toward healing a relationship. Or maybe it’s time to finally embark on that new career path.

    Remember, for now doesn’t mean forever. It may feel like there’s no end in sight to the malaise you’re experiencing, but it only seems that way.

    Don’t be afraid to peel back the tape on your check engine light and see what it has to tell you.

    Maybe a gooey, cheesy pizza and a night on the couch is exactly what you need. Maybe a “sick of it” day will do the trick. Or maybe it’s time for a baby step toward a bigger change.

    Let your inner check engine light lead the way.

  • Shocked Chicken

    “Shocked Chicken” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Thomas Edison has been attributed with saying, “If we did all the things we are capable of, we would literally astound ourselves.” 

    This is true. The potential within each one of us is enormous. 

    But I’ll go one step further. I say that we’d be astounded if we knew how good we already are. Maybe the marketing messages we’ve been bombarded with over the years have convinced us that we really aren’t good enough. Maybe we haven’t received enough positive compliments. Maybe we think the people who do compliment us are just being nice, or don’t know the real us. 

    Please…stop.

    My confidence does not rest in your resume, your highlight reel, or your dashing good looks. It rests in the divine Spirit of your Creator, which dwells within you. 

    You matter. 

    This may come as a shock to you, but you have a special brand of awesome that no one else has. 

    And this world needs it!

  • Melt With You

    “Melt With You” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas.
    Original is available. 🟢 Shop this art!

    Well, it’s official: The end of the world is upon us.

    It sure seems that way, doesn’t it?

    2020 has not been for the faint of heart, and just when you think it can’t get any worse, well, just wait for tomorrow. The thing is, every generation fears it’s living in the last days. And so far, every one has been wrong. I’m old enough to remember some of the Cold War and the events that transpired on 9/11/2001. Things looked bleak then, too. 

    This cheerful painting was inspired by a song about the end of the world. The words are from the lyrics of a catchy tune from the 1980s by a band named Modern English. Lead singer Robbie Grey, who wrote the seemingly simple upbeat love song with his four bandmates, explained, “I don’t think many people realized it was about a couple making love as the bomb dropped. As they make love, they become one and melt together.”

    Alllllrighty then.

    On to another fun fact: This was the very first canvas I painted live during the first-ever Madison Night Market. It was also the first time I offered my art for sale to an audience that hadn’t just heard me speak. Previously, I’d only sold my art at my speaking engagements, after spending an hour sharing my art on a big screen and telling stories to a captive audience. But here, my art would be standing on its own. No explanation. No context.

    As I painted away, I was able to hear people’s reactions to the painting and the prints we had for sale. What I heard was magic. People smiled and laughed and pulled their friends over to take a look.

    Quite simply, my art made people happy. And that made me feel awesome. I concluded right then and there that if that’s all I was ever able to accomplish, it was a worthy calling, and it would be enough.

    This is kind of a big deal because, you see, in the art world, it’s not enough. An artist is supposed to make a political statement, disturb people, or question everything they hold true. Which is fine, as far as it goes. But putting good into the world, making someone happy, and bringing a small measure of joy to a fellow human being is pretty good, too.

    Which brings me back to this song about apocalyptic hanky-panky.

    While we wait to see if the world is going to end, let’s do something productive with our time. It seems like we can find better options than rioting in the streets, cowering in fear in front of our TVs, and ranting on social media.

    Instead, what’s ONE thing you can do today to make someone’s day just a teeny bit brighter? How can you use one of your gifts to make someone happy? It might not seem like much, but it’s enough.

    Regardless of when the world ends, we all have a last day coming. I can’t say for certain that I’ll spend it in the fashion described in the aforementioned ’80s song. But if I can make someone happy on my last day (and on many of the days between now and then), I’m good with that.

    How about you?

  • Life’s a Wave

    “Life’s A Wave” by Jason Kotecki. 30 x 24. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    The familiar pit formed at the bottom of my stomach like a butterfly battle royal on pay-per-view. It developed after my mom answered the phone and told me it was for me.

    When I was younger, I was afraid of just about everything. New situations always brought an enormous level of anxiety, and phone calls delivered a special level of dread.

    It was a classmate on the other end, asking if I wanted to come over to play.

    For most people, this would be great news, not a situation worth getting nauseous over. But I was not most people. I’ve never been keen on having my plans changed at the last minute. I had a whole day planned of doing nothing ahead of me. Not to mention, I’d never been to Chris’s house before. Talk about a new situation! It was clearly a sensory overload too treacherous for a lazy Saturday.

    I quickly mumbled some excuse about how my mom wouldn’t let me today and hung up. “Whew! That was close,” I thought to myself, eager to return to my regularly scheduled day of surprise-free comfort.

    Only one problem: my mom heard.

    She ordered me to call my friend back up to tell him I could go. Gulp. That wasn’t at all embarrassing! “Hey Chris…hehe…good news…”

    The thing is, I ended up having a great time. There were many similar situations in my childhood in which my mom shoved me out of the nest, and I almost always enjoyed it. Eventually, I started to make little leaps on my own. At some point, I decided I didn’t want to be an 80-year-old guy looking back on my life, wondering, “What if?”

    The fear of regret became worse than the fear of the unknown.

    Life can be a spectator sport if you want it to be. You can watch the action standing safely on the shore. It’s the best way to minimize risk, avoid failure, and stay comfortable.

    The only problem is that it’s not much of a life.

    The real action happens out in the surf. To ride the wave of an amazing life, you have to be willing to leave the shore.

    Sometimes you have to take the plunge into parenthood even though you don’t think you’re ready.

    Sometimes you have to cash in your rainy day fund for a venture that might not work.

    Sometimes you have to book that trip today, because you never know how many tomorrows you have left.

    I cannot guarantee that you won’t wipe out now and again. But the bumps and bruises that accompany a wipeout are more tolerable than the deep ache of wondering “what if?”

    What wave is it time for you to catch?