a Tiny description

a full time artist, stepmother, radio personality, and mom to an energetic Chug dog, tries to get through the days without committing a felonious act. My life is a rickety Zen circus.


Thursday, July 31, 2014

If cancer were a man….

to Maggie Rae and Denise….

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

and a 2fer...

by the way, a private message here between me, my sister and an unwanted guest that's in her House:

now back to your regularly scheduled life.
today in the woods: My grace is sufficient.

from Brave Girls:

Your heart will mend, it will…it always always will, no matter how many times it has been broken. Sometimes our hearts have to be broken to be made into something newer, stronger ,and wiser. Sometimes the cracks that a broken heart makes and leaves are the very portals to the greatest
light and love and learning that we will ever experience.
Having our hearts broken is a part of life…it just is. Anyone who lives and loves with all of their heart, or even with parts of their heart, is destined to experience the breaking of that heart at one time or another.
Be with those feelings. Don’t rush the healing time. Let it go at its own pace and certainly don’t shove those feelings into some faux hiding place, believing that what is out of sight is out of mind.
Broken hearts have a lot to say….and the more patient you are to listen…the faster your heart will heal. Listen to what your broken heart is saying about how it wants life to be, in the future….
Be patient and gentle with yourself….no rushing. Rushing a broken heart is a bit unkind and impatient…you don’t want to treat yourself that way!
You are so loved. You are so wise and wonderful and amazing.
You are healing right now.

Monday, July 28, 2014

overshare alert

i probably won't hit the "publish" button on this one, but this being my journal, of sorts, i just might.
with the recent War of The Roses feel to this house, i see myself moving about the rooms…picking up laundry here, making some cereal and coffee there…all looking normal.  i am upstairs now, taking a break from packing up any unnecessary item in my studio.  i feel like i have been kicked and slapped and beaten, though no physical connection was needed.  it's been no secret that i've been a square peg in this house for many years.  but i guess i hoped for mutual epiphanies…i guess i hoped when i moved downstairs to sleep, that perhaps that would be the wake-up call that was needed.  but there was none - no conversation offered.  perhaps relief?  i spent so many years working at hateful destructive jobs in order to close the gap between income and not-my-child-support going out.  now the kids are grown and gone, and i feel kicked. to. the. curb.  left to do the cleaning and laundry.  left on weekends to find my own way, while a new romance with a boat overtakes the place where my feet and heart once were.  could've been a red corvette, i suppose.  or a trophy woman.  perhaps.  who knows, maybe i'm lucky that it's a "thing" rather than a person.  it all just sucks.  it is the most selfish of selfishness.  i am still, apparently "a dear, sweet woman,"  but have no place left here.  having a henry makes it more challenging to move or move about.  and to where?  when the time came that i couldn't possibly stay in a cubicle one second more…when the time came that the finances didn't dictate a 2nd income…i left my income/freedom behind.  was i wrong to not prepare for this future?  if so, what was the point of having that particular past?  to enter into a relationship with an eye toward failure is ludicrous - why bother?  what honor is there in that?  so today, i feel utterly cut loose and drifting.  today i feel like screaming and kicking holes in walls and smashing china.  i want to scream fuck so loudly that the owls fly from my trees and the neighbors many miles away will shut their windows. but today i worked quietly at packing up any and all non-essential studio supplies, and comforting my love, my henry, as he senses sadness.  I want to draw my women friends around me like a tight cloak…like a tight hug…while i sob…i want to crawl quietly back to bed…i want to lay face down on my new studio carpet and just let life go over me and do what it will, then pick up the pieces of the mosaic.  Perhaps. i don't feel like i want to be stoic at all.  i am too old to start this shit over.

Sunday, July 27, 2014

i'm tired of being brave.

Tired of having the drama to wade through that supposedly will build character.  Tired of life situations to be dealt with that are so hideous and ugly that people say You're Brave.  You're Strong.  One foot, one day at a time.  I am willing to live a mediocre life in exchange for just being able to live it.  to have certainty where my feet will step next.  sounds boring, doesn't it?  well, there's a lot to be said for boring.  a lot to be said for steady-as-you-go.  a lot to be said for keeping that boring day job that pays so well, rather than branch out into the great unknown and live what you think is you dream.  not to kick someone's wings, but the larger percentage of fliers do not reach the sun, Icarus, so make sure you can still walk, should your main supporter till death-do-you-part decides to have a midlife crisis and leave.  make sure your ducks are orderly and accounted for, because i can tell you straight and solid this:  it is a messy and ugly and kleenex-filled time, and your friends will have patience, but only so much, and you will get sick of hearing how strong you are when all you really want to do is sleep the sleep of the dead or scream for someone to help and they will get sick of your back-and-forth between wanting to stay in the polluted water/wanting to commit an amazing felony and when you realize your plan is made of cotton candy and you get a glimpse of reality you will have to choose quickly whether or not to push that door with your shoulder and move through or simply become bitter.  i'm on the fence right now.

Friday, July 25, 2014

Yes, another new job!  I have to say, I love this job...it seems to be a perfect fit, as I suspected it would be.  Part time...afternoons...radio traffic reports.  At the same place I worked before heading into the abyss.  So it's back around the wheel.  And funny thing: in just a week, I feel my wings again.  I was greeted so warmly by folks that remained all these years.  I was wrapped back into that fun/dysfunctional family.  The job does have it's crazy, but it really is a good thing.  Now to keep one foot in front of the other, which seems so much easier than it did last week.  I'm sitting outside on my patio right now, a good breeze is blowing through the trees, and so far the fat, fluffy owl is keeping to himself and leaving the robins alone.  I've gathered a fine cloak of women around me, both here and afar, and am grateful to tears for each of them.  I feel stronger than I have in years, despite the home turmoil and stench of a relationship unraveling.  I can move my feet and step over the debris now.  I thank each of my women friends...each a feather in my wings

Sunday, July 20, 2014

sunday 2-fer

you hear so much about Henry…
you'd never guess that I have another studio assistant, Purrl…
who gets very testy when asked to Please Stop walking across my keyboard.  In fact he bit me and drew blood on my arm.  It has been a while since this fluffy little diva middlesex cat has been allowed back.  but now, of course, i can't resist.  he/she gets so little attention now that Henry is afoot.

Also taking my attention is yet ANOTHER cookbook I got from Williams-Sonoma after class today:
those are some bold promises, and I intend to hold them to their word.  I'm sorry - I'm a food dork.  I get so choked up in WS that please, don't even try to talk to me.  I want those checkered pants and little black chef hat and all the knives and zesters and corers and accessories and ThInGs in a great kitchen.  i want a stove that has more than 2 working burners and an oven that knows how to hold a temperature.  i want to learn how to operate my grill properly.  Since i can't afford the cost of CIA tuition, I'm cobbling together my own cooking education through adult ed, Williams Sonoma, etc.  I'd still love to do the CIA Bootcamp, but (again!) I start a new job tomorrow.  it is what fits me best - part time, afternoon, radio.  when i finally said "girl.  you are being way too dramatic and oogly googly about this job thing.  just go get a job" when i said all that…Bam! the next day i got an offer from the blue.  cross your fingers for me!
okay time for coffee.  Thanks for hanging in here.  i know i'm not too reliable lately.  but honestly, it's been too hard to find words for the knee deep stuff i just went through, and boy it's good to be me right now!

where are you from?

where i'm from
by george ella lyon

i am from clothespins,
from clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
i am from the dirt under the back porch.
(black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
i am from the forsythia bush
the dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs i remember
as if they were my own.

i'm from fudge and eyeglasses,
          from imogene and alafair.
i'm from the know-it-alls
          and the pass-it-ons,
from perk up! and pipe down!
i'm from he restoreth my soul
          with a cottonball lamb
          and ten verses I can say myself.

i'm from artemus and billie's branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
from the finger my grandfather lost
          to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
i am from those moments--
snapped before i budded --
leaf-fall from the family tree.

Wednesday, July 09, 2014

a running theme the past few weeks…re-empower yourself.

yes.  do it, and also - do it yourself.  DIY.  don't look outwardly for things you already posses within yourself…i look to certain touchstones for a nod or for a fill-up of things i feel i may lack.  but i have to realize that those things aren't lacking…i'm just choosing not to use them, i suppose…perhaps needing a heart to touch mine, who knows.  "no man is an island," and that is even more true for women, beng hardwired to gather.  In my neighborhood, we women gather.  i am the planner, most often.  we do simple things like movie night which involves chocolate, too much food and a movie.  last night we went out to see a movie - Tammy.  In the midst of the hilarity were some dead-on truths.  Tammy (played by Melissa McCarthy) had life barf all over her one day, and she took off with her grandmother (an alcoholic with multiple medical problems, but a great outlook on life).  one of the best lines of the movie was from her…she looked at Tammy and said "You've always complained about your shitty little life, but never done anything to change it…"  right between the eyes.  It's true.  i've gotten so used to just bitching about how life done me wrong ("life" usually being relationship) and leaving mySelf at the door.  Yes, it's true that a bad relationship, marriage, job, PTSD, etc, can beat a person down till they feel they have no choices and no reason to exist and have nothing to contribute so they should just stay put and be grateful for the shitty little existence that they have because it could be worse.  but it's a lie.  and it doesn't have to be Either/Or.  within the shitty little life, growth and change can begin, till the roots re-grow and strength returns and the bud opens into a full flower.  life does not have to stop because you are unhappy with it.  and even with all those things (especially PTSD, for me) it doesn't have to ride your back always…you can figure out how to occasionally grab the reins and ride the dragons back (i say "you" but we all know what i mean).  in fact, i dare say that life should begin when the shit starts flying, or becomes so deep that you can't move your feet.  especially then.  and use the shit to build a wind-proof house.  nothing like a little mud and hay to make a snug house.  i've spent hours wondering how this shit will translate into a beautiful life that i wanted to create.  then i planted a garden (a for real one) and it struck me that the seeds didn't sit underground wondering how they would get through all that manure covering them…they pushed through, hit the sunshine, took a drink and bloomed.  if they sat underground trying to puzzle it through, they'd rot.  and i have sat underground for too long…i have been immobilized by the things that haunt me and by the things that torment me.  and i may be way off base in this dissertation.  but i think i want to give it a go, just to see.  pick a direction, and go.  stop stopping.  and circling.  maybe continue to bitch and moan for a while, but for God's sake - move a little.  so after this epiphany, i got this in my mailbox this morning:

her giant

she called upon the different parts of herself for help. if she was going to make it, she needed to accept them all, unite them all and believe in them all. it was time for a huddle of tremendous proportions. it was the making of her giant.
—terri st. cloud, bone sigh arts


Friday, July 04, 2014

today is July 4th…a day filled with picnics and gatherings and fireworks.  for most.  for some, a work day.  if i was still at 9-1-1, i would most likely be working.  so i'd like to say thank you to those who are working today to keep things safe, or at least mitigate the collateral damage.  today, Henry and I will head to the Big Park on a Big Walk.  Quackles the duck tried to follow us home this morning, and although she is doing good in her pond, I don't have confidence in her innate sense of good & bad people (and dogs).  i'm not sure if she knows about migration.  so i'll be keeping an eye out for her, with a safe home on standby, should the need arise.
Happy 4th to you…wishing you a gentle & sweet day, if you are alone.