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.

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Friday, May 29, 2015

i wonder how long it will be before my heart stops holding her breath…till a long exhale & relax comes…till crazy KidJoy returns and spontaneousness stays put in the crevasses?  i wonder how long it will be till i can sit.  just sit.  not have to keep busy.  just to keep from thinking or feeling too deeply…to just ping pong a bit.  soon, i think.  soon.  and meanwhile, the busy-ness has led to some fantastic voyages and excursions…some that may lead across an ocean…some in my own backyard.
Alis Volat Propris (She flies with her own wings)

Thursday, May 28, 2015

i'm getting closer to actually making art that people can see…that is, art that isn't just in my head.  one of the residual effects of all the chaos of the past year, and the fibro fog, and the Lyme disease is i simply cannot concentrate.  my brain flies like a monkey in a tree, and to sit and make art is not a possible thing right now.  but in my resting moments, boy do i make a gallery full! as i make each room in this house work better for me, i become more at ease…the kitchen has been redone shelf-wise, so that the things i use most are within easy reach - rather than on the tippy top shelf.  i post in quick bursts here, as my attention wanders, but that's also because it's incredibly warm in my studio right now.  as soon as i feel like working for real, i'll get the AC going.  it's frustrating, but i also am recognizing that i've been through some real changes and am likely to take a little time to re-center.  so.  all that being said - time for bed.  more tomorrow.  and if you've been promised some chocolate chocolate german chocolate caramel bars - i finally figured out how to ship them, and they'll be heading to you!  they kept getting melty and squished.

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Tiny Step redux

so it occurred to me…what if the Tiny Step Initiative was about a whole Big New?  what if it wasn't about a Tiny House at all, but a trick to get me to move move and move forward?  ah ha…..so the TSI begins again where it left off.  and boy do i have some ideas!

Tuesday, May 26, 2015


yes - you.
and i thank you for traveling this journey with me…holding my hand, holding me up, holding me in sacred & sweet thoughts and prayers.  I feel like i've popped above the surface for air…gasping life back into my lungs…smiling again and laughing so hard at things that tears roll down my cheeks - different tears.  some more things i've learned:  not to be ashamed of tears, not to try to staunch them - but encourage them to freely flow…that it's really okay to let someone cry…to just be there with them and let them bawl, without having to fix it - just let them have their time…honor it, acknowledge it, and just make that little noise that Kim makes (sort of a mmmmm sound).  in the past 6 months, i have cried so hard and so long, i wondered if i might turn to dust and disappear, having leaked all the moisture from my body.  my heart felt like dust, of that you can be certain.  and those tears ran with the accompaniment of a howling, gut wrenching sound-gurgle-strangled noise that would just not be contained inside.  nice visual, no?  there were long days when the only way i could work was to remember this video that my brother sent me:



but now, i feel my girl power coming back.  i feel re-centered and re-ready to take on whatever's next.  i say that with one eye closed, you should know, because i am now very careful what i wish for.  lottery is one thing i wish for with no thought to consequence.
so because it is Africa hot in my studio right now - being too cheap to turn on the AC up here - and because Henry is having a throwdown with some animal on TV, i'm going to say good night, and thank you again.  i am now ready to carry your burden, should you need me to.  it's only fair.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

i still cry.  nightly.  not as hard.  not as long.  but something always seems to set me off…tonight it was the missing nightstand.  he had asked if he could take it, and i said yes.  he came over while i was at work. and now just dust bunnies and some books are left piled up where it stood by his side of the bed.  a bed i had left a few years before.  that fact doesn't escape me.  be careful what you wish for.  had i known that this emotional upheaval was part of the bargain, i would have wished differently.  but, it's done.  at least the part that has paragraphs and wherefores and parties of the first part.  the rest, the matter of retraining my heart, well i suspect will take some time.  last year at this time, i was planning a garden and a trip to Texas and beekeeping and vigorous walks.  a year later, i am taking things much slower and gentler and quieter.  trying to grab a ray of laughter with both hands and squeeze it through the crack in the cave wall to scatter the darkness.  it's not all tears though.  not like a few months ago when the thought of lifting my head from the pillow was unthinkable…when i felt i was being assaulted by the very breath that came into my lungs…and through all this dis-ease, i felt 100% certainty that it was necessary for some cosmic reason yet to appear…that i am now to hold the hand of the one behind me…to lift the next in line, just as the ones before me held me and absolutely and fiercely refused to let me stumble or fail.  and i will do the same. for you.  for anyone sent to my path.  even as i am just learning to walk again, i will spend time on my knees with you, crawling with you, until you can stand again…and reach behind you for the next one in line.  sent to your path.

Sunday, May 17, 2015

it's been hard.  but easier. i'm living hour by hour. I got a gazebo for mother's day, and last night's Girls Gazebo Gathering was just perfect.  this morning brought tears of loneliness.  my soon-to-be ex bought me a new lawn mower…one that starts with the push of a button, and walks by itself.  the old one being too difficult for me to start with the pull starter thing. he had stopped by to pick up a few more things, and saw I had mowed with the new mower, and began explaining how he mulches in the fall and in the spring there are things i should do to keep the lawn healthy.  it was just.so.sad. i feel deeply bad for him, working to buy this house, and now having to walk away from it.  the second time in his life. yes, i started bawling.  over mulch.  and mowers. ugly crying.  me in my car, him in his, in the driveway. suddenly the care of the house seemed to loom insurmountable…the care of my heart seemed unattainable.  then i had to just put one foot in front of the other.  minute by minute.  okay start the car, now reverse, now forward, blinker on, where was I headed before the whole mulch thing came up?  yes - this was his choice.  yes, after the first one, you wonder if there isn't something that needs changing.  but still.  although it was not a great marriage, and although i mostly saw his failings throughout the past 15 years, glimmers and hot pokers stab at me as i realize anew my role in this mess.
so where it stands now - i am less stressed out.  i am terrified.  i am content.  i am lonely. i am hoping to continue becoming my self. i will.
Henry has become a handful, though. he doesn't understand where his man went, i'm sure.  we walk, and he lunges at other dogs, snarling and squealing.  he's bit me twice accidentally, as his teeth snap at the air.  this isn't my Henry.  Today a friend joined me for brunch, and i took her on a walk through my trails.  as we walked to the end of the street, it sounded like someone was torturing poor Henry…his fears at being apart from me - something new. neighbors stopped and looked down the street.  grateful i don't live in an apartment, after all.  my feet still aren't under me, but i'm grateful to have a direction to walk in.  grateful to know the set of challenges i'm to face and conquer.
i've learned so much in the past year…mostly that it's okay to lean on others - that it won't hurt!  that it doesn't mean that i won't rise strong again, but that it feels good to receive.  thank you.  i'm grateful for the lessons, and want to use them somehow to shine a light for others.  that's to come.

Saturday, May 09, 2015

saturday 2-fer


I have this verse from a song that's spun in my head for years…i even made an assemblage piece for a friend based on it...

I've been scraping little shavings
off my ration of light
and i've formed it into a ball
and each time i pack a bit more onto it
and i make a bowl of my hands and
I scoop it from it's secret cache
under a loose board in the floor
and i blow across it and i send it to you
against those moments when the darkness
blows under your door.
Isn't that what friends are for?

It's by Bruce Cockburn…seems to be a Bruce morning.  is it still morning?  anyway.  i spent some time looking back through old blog posts…reaaalll old ones.  in the beginning ones. but not the first one.  i still can't. 
and i wonder if i'll ever be able to smell autumn on the breeze and feel it give life to my being ever again…so many gentle & wonderful moments that take centering and concentration and awareness to notice and enjoy...this "process" has tried in so many ways to steal my heart.  it has been a battle to stay true to myself…to stay centered, and yes - somedays to just get out of bed.  the emotional toll has been devastating, i won't lie…it will take quite a lot to re-become myself, and there are long, dark moments when i wonder if it would even be worth the effort.  like a dog who's been kicked too many times, it finally just gives up it's good nature and takes the path of least resistance…decides that any shoe is a bad shoe…i am not who i was - my faith in prevailing good has been shattered…i feel emotionally curled in, not having the strength to reach out, and feeling selfish and self-centered for not wiping away tears and getting the f* on with the day.  i wonder if the toll this has taken on my body will ever be repaired…even now, i read this post and want to delete it…want to hide the ugly…but i've always been honest here.  and i hope that someone reads this and knows they aren't alone…that they'll look to the left and see someone else's toes at the ledge...that someone else is having the self-same feelings…wondering if they will come out the other side…scared that being witness to the darkest hearts and selfish slobbering of sharpened teeth will have changed them in ways that can't be un-changed…that make them unsuitable for the journey…that will make re-entry just.too.hard.
my friend's little boy was explaining vampires - he was worried that a mosquito bite was from a vampire mosquito, and that he would be turned into one.  he explained that "a vampire bites you, takes your life away, then turns you into one of them, and all you can see is dark dark dark because you can only come out at night. and you're never happy because the stores are closed at night."
I've been bitten.  i resist.  walmart is open 24 hours.  there is hope.  come shop with me.



Sunset is an angel weeping
Holding out a bloody sword
No matter how I squint I cannot
Make out what it's pointing toward
Sometimes you feel like you live too long
Days drip slowly on the page
You catch yourself
Pacing the cage
I've proven who I am so many times
The magnetic strip's worn thin
And each time I was someone else
And every one was taken in
Hours chatter in high places
Stir up eddies in the dust of rage
Set me to pacing the cage
I never knew what you all wanted
So I gave you everything
All that I could pillage
All the spells that I could sing
It's as if the thing were written
In the constitution of the age
Sooner or later you'll wind up
Pacing the cage
Sometimes the best map will not guide you
You can't see what's round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend
Today these eyes scan bleached-out land
For the coming of the outbound stage.
Pacing the cage.
-Bruce Cockburn


Tuesday, May 05, 2015

As my emotions stretch about as tight as I think they possibly can, another rock lands on the fabric stretched taut.  I've been judged by a single action...not a bad or malicious or ill-intended one...but an everyday thing...that was somehow taken offense to...though I don't know how, I honestly don't - even in retrospect...but each is entitled to their feelings for certain...and that one single thing has overshadowed a lifetime friendship...a person I felt so deeply rooted in my heart has decided that this one action, which was so ordinary, so not exclusive to them, has made continuing our friendship impossible. My instinct was to call, to write back, to drive over in my pj's and make it right. But I thought and thought, and could find no reasonable reason for this reaction. None. And I think that if I ever ripped my friendship away from someone over one blip that wasn't even a blip, that I wouldn't deserve that friend in the first place. We are all human. All of us. And we are a continuum...a timeline of good & bad & ups & downs. We have our ecstatic heroic moments, and our failings. It is how we are, we humans. And I have learned there are no black and white, clap on clap off moments in a friendship...a person does not change with a snap...they are inherently good or bad, and their actions in totality should be seen through that lens. So if it appears that they've done something that pissed you off, ask: are they normally thoughtless? If not, then the problem is either an error of judgement, or perhaps the problem is within your own heart - a lesson scratching to be let out, or a jealousy that's best redirected at another.  To the one that now has her back turned, I wish you peace. For this action is sure to cause you more turbulence than it will me. I am grieving our friendship. You were the last person I'd expect this from, having tread these steps before me. I am unable to live up to your expectations, so perhaps it is best, after all.

Saturday, May 02, 2015

Some days it helps to stay manically busy...just do-si-do from one activity to another, and before you know it, it's bedtime.  And some days you crawl into fresh, clean, sweet smelling sheets and try to figure out what you're forgetting, and you realize...as the silence buzzes in your ears so loud...you realize that there is no one to say goodnight to.  And even though there hadn't been an echoing Good Night in a very long time, at least there was another human under the roof...someone who you thought you could trust with your bad behavior and good laughs...who had promised to see this ride through...and even though you had long since given up on having a dance partner -someone in step with you - it was still a bit of comfort some nights to hear Good Night, however grudgingly, as you went to your opposite corners of the house. Some days it helps.  Some days...not so much.