identity

so, a lot of time was spent in the fall thinking about time. as i hit my 49th birthday, i wonder : who am i? i remember when i was a kid, anyone older than 16 was old! 30 was really old. 40 was, well, really really old. at 50, you were someone's grandmother. you became invisible. you didn't really pay attention to those older folks in the shopping centers (believe it or not, there were no malls back then). they were just old people. doddering. foolish. old-fashioned. guess what? i'm almost there. and i don't FEEL doddering or foolish. true, my knees and hands aren't what they used to be. true, i sometimes forget the point of my sentences. true, i've heard myself start sentences with, "when i was your age..." but that doesn't make me an old person. does it? not like when i was young. and i fear becoming invisible. outdated. obsolete. i've seen communication go from 5-cent phone booths (yes- phone booths), to 10-cents to 25-cents and now 50-cents. not that anyone uses them. then bag phones, 25-pound mobile phones. now, everyone has a Star Trek-like device jammed in their ear so they can walk along (hopefully) talking to whomever on the other end. just what is so urgent that it has to be discussed 24/7? i remember having to wait till the "cheap time" to make long distance calls. now, any night or weekend will do, or any time of day if you're on the same network. home computers, microwaves, and *gasp* color TV all came into being in my lifetime. remember rabbit ears? so, a part of me feels very very old. but a part of me feels the same as i did when i was in my 20's and matching my legwarmers to my outfit du jour. i feel the same, but different. life is more precious to me, but not so serious. the drama of it all is past. i've learned that taking chances in life won't necessarily kill you. there is no right or wrong path to take. just don't stand still. take the path and make the best of the walk. it may be an uphill climb, but isn't the view the best from the top? it may be an easy paved path. don't we all wish for that? but anyway, to the meat of the matter. who am i? i don't need to spend a lot of time on that one, but it's interesting to watch how different people react differently to me. i guess it depends on when they met me in my life, or how they wish i was (as opposed to how i am). or maybe it's the situation they see me in most. for instance, the people at my job know me only in that environment. when i say something that doesn't "gel" with their perception of me, it's kind of fun to see the look on their face. my husband met me when i was taking a break from my art and recharging. i was in my badass phase - working at 911 and trying to keep a shell around my heart to protect myself from the horror of the job. art would crack that shell too much. so for him, this "art thing" is new. a phase. a hobby. hard for him to take me seriously as an artist. i understand it, but am frustrated by it. and sad that he is missing out on me. my artists friends are probably the ones who see the real me. i am constantly amazed when i look in the mirror. i have a mental picture of how i look on the inside - sort of a Stevie Nicks-ish spiritual type of look. ah yes - like the "artsy old ladies" with all the layers of Bluefish clothing. back to the old thing! last year, i cut my elbow-length hair short short short. like, can't even comb it short. i was working in radio and getting up at 3am. 2 of my 3 dogs were very old, and very high-maintenance. the hair had to go. i miss it now that my life has gotten simpler. but it's hair. just hair. i feel like a tall, thin, elegant woman. in fact, outside, i am short, a few extra pounds proceed me, and as far as elegant....well, not always. rarely. so should i become more the inside me? does it matter? i wonder if people would react differently to me if i dressed and acted more like the inside person. i'm comfortable with each role i must play - the work person, the art person, the friend in need, the friend who's there for you, the stepmother, the daughter, and yes, the wife. (although i admit, that's still a puzzle to me). so as the new year starts for the world, and also for me in my 49th year, i'll have to do some more thinking about identity and roles and what is genuine. prosperity and peace to y'all this year....and save the date - i'm having a surprise party for myself on my 50th! shhh! L.

do you see what i see? happy holidays

last year, right around this time, i spied 4 little black eyes staring up into the heavens side-by-side. catching snowflakes on their little noses. it was one of those "moments."

portions

art, to me, is every warm summer sun on your back after spending an hour in the pool playing mermaid with your best-friend-for-life...it's every first taste of panda paws ice cream with chocolate syrup....it's every warm furry four-legged body curled against you on a cold winter night, sighing, and holding your pinky finger with a paw.....it's the crunch of autumn leaves on the path through the woods - slight hickory smoke smells in the air, a surprise of warmth that late in the year. that's art to me. it's more than creating cool stuff. it's a birth of myself, over and over again. it's a primal urge that cannot be denied. perhaps surpressed for a time, but cannot be eradicated. it's as much a part of me as brown (ish) hair. when i'm in the zone, it's as much a rush as that first cigarette of the day, or too much coffee. the end result comes as much of physical deflation as an emotional moment. it's like a symphony being created. the slow quiet flutes and oboes giving way to the full monty brass section and percussion as the pieces to the puzzle become clear in my mind - this wire goes here, that fiber goes there - and my hands place and twist and glue, till the finale. there's almost a depression that follows, a let down when the piece is finished. like birth. the labor sweat gives way to tired fulfillment. as my time to create has been all but taken, i find it painful to even look in my studio. to want something so out of reach. unrequited love. i dare not to even think in color. this isa time that is calling me to find balance. it feels like this is my lesson to learn. balance in every area of my life - balancing time, balancing emotion. as hormones ebb and flow and rage and soften, i must learn to balance what i allow to tarry in my thoughts. as my time becomes stretched so thin, i must learn to parcel out the sections and pieces so precious. this will force me to pick at and examine each thing that comes my way - is this important enough for me to spend time on? if so, what will have to wait? so i accept the challenge, reluctantly, and hope it will make me a better person...both to myself and to those i love. and the art that awaits my hand and the symphony. L.

beautiful

Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet... the next time sunrise steals your breath, or a meadow leaves you speechless, remain that way. say nothing. and listen as heaven whispers, "do you like it? i did it just for you." max lucado

o christmas tree

so we finally got a christmas tree today. we strung the lights and some red and gold beads and decided to leave the box of decorations out and put a few on every time we pass by. no one seems to have the heart for it this year, partly because of the weather i think. all i can think of is the holiday picture. every year since we moved here, i'd make jenny take a picture in front of the tree with Bear. Kita would be next - by himself, the ham - and forget about Nikki....she's as good as amish around the camera. this year, no picture to take. it's seems even more emptier here. last night i bought nikki a white teddy bear at the dollar store...long legs and not much stuffing. she drags that darn thing around like a woobie, and uses it for a pillow. she's seemed lonely a lot lately too. last year Nikita thought we'd gotten him indoor plumbing for christmas, and peed on the tree. you just had to laugh about it. i sure miss him. it's funny how this one holiday brings out the lonelies in people like no other. why is that? maybe because of all the hype and hustle & bustle attached to it. although i love getting presents, it's my least favorite holiday. i need quieter spaces. i am truly looking forward to january though! we're headed to florida for 5 days, then i come home alone and have 5 days off BY MYSELF! i hope to make good art. i'm also hoping to quit smoking during the 5 days gone, so cross your fingers for me. on top of having 4 friends with cancer (2 terminal), a friend of bill's was just told that lump on his neck is stage 4 cancer and has also spread to his tongue. even though there's not much hope (in the doc's view) they plan to start chemo & cutting. i guess that part scared me. imagine having your tongue cut away - you couldn't talk or eat well, etc. those 2 things are what i do best. seriously. so bill and i are both going to try to quit....should be a banner vacation! well, fatigue is starting to creep in, and nyquil is calling, so i'll try to think of some deep thoughts for next time! don't forget the $25 donation-to-the-CNYSPCA-challenge....have ya sent your check? if you don't have anyone to send it in remembrance of, send it in memory of my Bear - he came to Bill from the shelter, and we'll mss him under our tree this year. L.

frazzled

i frazzled, exhausted and covered in dog vomit. nice picture, eh? try BEING it! didn't get home till after 8pm 'cause the cash drawer wouldn't total again. the girl who's supposed to train me on this refused to help. said she had too much work of her own and wouuld be there late as it was. and i should know how to do it by now. add all that aggravation to a day from hell hell hell, and you got the makings of a meltdown. sleep. but wait! there's more! vomit vomit vomit. poor girlie. so, up at 8am, laundry, floor scrubbing etc. of all people, my mom pointed out that i hadn't begged God for THIS job....i was asking for A job, and only because it was being required of me. so i shouldn't feel like a brat if i hate this job. and i do. hate it. and i have to go get ready for it now, so bye! Linda

dear diary

dear diary, am i a bitch? am i unappreciative? self-centered? please tell me the truth - i can take it - maybe. it's just that lately i wonder. i prayed for a man who was handsome, single, hetero, made good money and actually loved me back. a month later - there was Bill. now all i do is whine and bitch about life as i know it. i begged and wept and prayed for a job away from 911 that paid well. and 2 months later - there was GHI. so after 3 years, i needed a job away from GHI, and there was MetroNetwork - back in the radio thing i do so well at. then, as summer wore on, i reluctantly prayed for a job that was close to home, with nice coworkers, was interesting, and paid more than $7 an hour. so here i am at my current job. about to start my 4th week, and already crying about IT. i have to wonder if i am unappreciative. i think the answer is no. i think the problem is, is that love and art keep intruding on reality. i have had the most blessed, fabulous fall - taking long, healing walks with my little girl, bonding and becoming centered. art has welled up from me in new and amazing ways that make me stunned when i see my work on someone's wall or desk. "I did that?!" having gone from 24/7 free time to having next to none has been a very difficult transition. both for me, and little dog. she is lonesome for me, and daily spends time by the back door howling her little wolf heart out. when i am home, i'm too pooped to be much of a mom. she holds her toy and looks hopefully at me then just lets it slide to the floor. having just spent time regretting the things i didn't do with Nikita, and walks we never took, this is so especially hard for me. i try to set aside time for myself. and time for art. and time for bill. and time for nikki. that leaves about 4 minutes each! and don't even talk about the laundry! i guess it's the opposite of unappreciative - i appreciate TOO MUCH the things that are important to me - the rare gifts i've been given in my soul, and feel that anything less than important, is not important enough to take my time away. but then again, there are bills to pay, so where is the line drawn? i would live lesser if it were just me. but i am joined to a household, and just as i would trade bigger for medium or small, the others would not. there cannot be 2 alphas in a sled team...2 visions for the ride. yes, there is common ground and give-and-take. but when there are 2 maps, and 2 ideas of final destinations, no amount of compromise will get you there. so you see my quandry. do i ease up and follow, or continue to pull and strain at the tether? each comes at a price. which am i willing to pay? L.

life's hiway

i remember late summer, and on through fall....the days stretched out before me, endless, like a long hot hiway through a desert canyon. mountains ahead and to the side like giant guardians - striated red, green, taupe and brown. the roadway clear and broken only by occaisional adventure, like the dashed lines down the center lane. an occaisional bumpbump-rrrrrr onto a rumble strip, but free and easy, one hand on the wheel, hair blowing in the dry breeze through the open top of a convertable. summer songs mingling with current favorites - black horse and a cherry tree, norah jones, bruce cockburn, joss stone, and mmmmmm mmm - ella. soon a car appears - opposite direction. then another and soon more. a diner to the right. a run-down shack of a grocery on the left. soon 18-wheelers hiss and creak out from side roads and a traffic light appears. people wait to cross. languid, yet purposeful. a small snap to reality as a town crowds in on your bliss. fingers tap on the wheel waiting for the light to turn. you continue through. you don't belong here. the intrusion makes you impatient to get back on the empty road, back to your journey. onto the dark hiway, broken only by dashed lines. lit only by a sun setting melon and aubergine and mustard and cobalt all at once and each at it's own depth and pace. music lowered to hear crickets and howls of coyotes. the top up now as a head covering in this holy place. this singular space. alone with thoughts and the masterpiece of the sunset. "life is a hiway - i want to ride it all night long" L.

sleeping giant

as my art time diminishes, my dream time has become more "creative." the ghoulies and ghosties that were normally expunged and swept away through fiber, metal, wood, paint are now trapped inside where they revel in nighttime salons. the sleeptime is no longer a haven for me - no color combinations revealing themselves to me ...no shapes to weld together, or answers to sticky problems presenting themselves shyly in the calm of the night. fears and randomness overtake my dreams. friends or aquaintences, long departed, have returned - along with my mandog, kita, to visit and torment. little girl dog wakes me if i disturb her too much with twisting and turning. sometimes she wakes me just to check. so my lack of invigorating, restful dreamtime is broken into jagged rips of time. the rest of the night is spent running up and down the stairs thinking she has to go out, mistaking her waking me for an urgency of her own. i have big plans for art time this weekend, and hope to report back placid sleep punctuated by paisley and magenta and my beloved colors of fall. i guess not everything sleeps in winter........L.

naughty

i was a little naughty today...i did end up calling in sick! i was actually very sick, and laid in bed all day reading/sleeping/reading. as the hours ticked by, i kept thinking, "yow! i'd still be at work!" and i'd be there still at this moment. it seems like the day is so much better spent in bed reading/sleeping/reading, but, oh well! i finished my current book, Rise And Shine by Anna Quindlan. i recommend it. i showered this morning, called in, then went back to bed. at first, i felt guilty, but then, simply naughty and wonderful! i mean, a lot of that was fueled by Nyquil, but it just seemed like, well, remember convincing your mother you were too sick to go to school? and you did feel aweful - till the bus left. then there was a world of possibilities. i just opted for the bed and book possibility. i still feel like death-sucking-on-a-biscuit, but tomorrow a vet appointment and wegmans are calling, so i'll suck it up and go out. the fact that i can pick and choose my level of contact with other humans makes a big difference. customer service is one forced "relationship" after another! am i having doubts about the job? well, if the hours don't change, maybe. i'm so much more of a morning person. even though it's nice to ease into the day, it's nicer to just go and get it over with. it seems like the 5-7pm hours drag by and are wasting my time and getting on my last nerve. so we'll see what becomes of things after the holidays. i truly miss cooking dinner with the wegmans menus. i miss having time at the end of the day to decompress and go for a walk, or even watch a little tv from the couch - not the bed! we'll see. maybe a lotto win will come my way! hoping to have some good thoughts tomorrow! L.

ramblings

so the past few months, the idea of "time" has been on my mind alot. the IDEA is still on my mind, as i have none to myself! the week is all about work and sleep. period. the weekends are about catching up on the things i used to spread out over 7 days - or 30 days - or 60 days ....laundry, groceries, cleaning, etc. now i try to cram it all in to 1 day so i can have "a" day for me me me. this weekend i begged out of the company christmas party (hate those things intensely) in order to make a few christmas gifts, and some personal art. good plans often fail! i am sooo sick. it feels bronchitis-y. i don't dare call in sick to work because i've only been there 3 weeks, and that sure doesn't look good. but it's all i can do to crawl there every morning and get through the day. the pace goes from busy to fast and furious. and i still haven't gotten a good handle on how to do my job. so there's the running around with a box of Kleenex hanging around my neck, sneezing on people, trying to help them with Nyquil brain. i'm back on the Nyquil/Dayquil addiction. little dog has had diarhea too, and she's just pointed out an accident in my studio that she's particularly upset about creating. a part of me is so dragged out i feel like just leaving it there, then cutting away the rug! i'm still trying to figure out the calling in sick idea. this company is great, but they will take as much as you give. maybe another cup of coffee will help. **sneeze** oy. L.