Thursday, July 31, 2014
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.
now back to your regularly scheduled life.
today in the woods: My grace is sufficient.
from Brave Girls:
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.
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.
xoxo
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.
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.
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
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:
roar.
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
roar.
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.
Happy 4th to you…wishing you a gentle & sweet day, if you are alone.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
So should I start every post with "yikes! It's been a while" and just be done with it? So much and so little going on. Have been getting commissions for reliquaries, and hope to have permission to show one or two. They are just so personal and sacred...little bits and favorite toys and plaster circles with precious pawprints...a collar...maybe some curls of fur...all entrusted to me to enshrine in an assemblage worthy of the well-loved life that once cuddled up and chased a ball and stole a heart or two. I am honored, truly, to do this work.
I was up most of last night with a screaming hip and aching hands, so I will leave you with a promise to fill you in on some great good news ... Tomorrow. But know that a goodness and kindness has returned to me and sunk into the place formerly occupied by a crusty & unkind swirl within me. Just a thin ribbon, but enough to poison.
And Henry is doing just fine, despite cleaning out the catbox for me - clumping litter stuck in his teeth created quite a night's work for me. No ill effects to report.
See you in the morning...sleep well.
I was up most of last night with a screaming hip and aching hands, so I will leave you with a promise to fill you in on some great good news ... Tomorrow. But know that a goodness and kindness has returned to me and sunk into the place formerly occupied by a crusty & unkind swirl within me. Just a thin ribbon, but enough to poison.
And Henry is doing just fine, despite cleaning out the catbox for me - clumping litter stuck in his teeth created quite a night's work for me. No ill effects to report.
See you in the morning...sleep well.
Monday, June 23, 2014
checklist
* wake up way too early…check
* take car to mechanic….check
* clear all the furniture - ALL of it 0 from livingroom…check (and OY)
* romp with Henry in Big Open Area formerly known as livingroom…check
* vacuum carpets twice and shampoo them….check
* forget where I put my coffee (again) and pour a third cup, hoping to actually drink this one…check
* call for sponsor for Combat Paper Project (I only need $1500.00)….check
* mechanic called to say car ready 6 hours early (!!!) ….check
Today is a super deluxe lucky day! yesterday was crap, so this one makes up for it. and it isn't even 11am! Plans to make cabbage rolls with spicy rice and red bean & sauerkraut salad. to quote Dana Carvey….Exxxxcellent!
* take car to mechanic….check
* clear all the furniture - ALL of it 0 from livingroom…check (and OY)
* romp with Henry in Big Open Area formerly known as livingroom…check
* vacuum carpets twice and shampoo them….check
* forget where I put my coffee (again) and pour a third cup, hoping to actually drink this one…check
* call for sponsor for Combat Paper Project (I only need $1500.00)….check
* mechanic called to say car ready 6 hours early (!!!) ….check
Today is a super deluxe lucky day! yesterday was crap, so this one makes up for it. and it isn't even 11am! Plans to make cabbage rolls with spicy rice and red bean & sauerkraut salad. to quote Dana Carvey….Exxxxcellent!
Sunday, June 22, 2014
yes. 3 today
sometimes, it's a smell…or a song…or a deja vu…or the sound of a favorite cousin's voice on the phone that reminds you of who you are.
and then, there are those Super 8's of you toddling about like Princess Diaperpants.
and then, there are those Super 8's of you toddling about like Princess Diaperpants.
This morning, i woke very very early, with a warm cuddly ball curled tight against me. we both went for a potty break, then decided it was an excellent day to go back to bed. so we did. despite Henry's urging to stay put, we finally got out of bed around 7:30, and i had a steaming mug of coffee on the new patio. i'd forgotten how much i missed sitting outside in the quiet coolness, before the world wakes up. such a perfect way to start the day. today, i think some new patio furniture is on the agenda. I think some nice, big Adirondack chairs with comfy cushions in Teal and Orange. And a small table for coffee and a book. I've been reading cookbooks to beat the band, and want to cook it all! Am planning a Williams Sonoma trip this week, just to drool. Being the only one around makes it a shorter trip, though, because i hate to leave Hen alone too long. he gets sad. so i'm off to work on a commission for a reliquary. I'm so loving these. feel honored to create these sacred remembrances.
i saw the word "shenpa" here, and followed the daisy trail of links to this:
Shenpa is a Tibetan word meaning “attachment” (and we know what the Second Noble Truth has to say about that!) but PemaChodron often describes shenpa as “being hooked.”
What normally accompanies shenpa is a desperate urge to alleviate the shaky feeling that’s arisen by engaging in a particular behavior we hope will bring about some relief. So we scramble to produce something pleasurable that can counteract the extreme sense of unease and discomfort that makes us want to bolt away or disappear.
It tends to happen very suddenly and without warning, and when it’s happening it’s as if we’re being visited once again by one of our least favorite people in the world, someone we’ve been acquainted with for a long, long time. Too long in fact.
You know you’re experiencing shenpa when you have an almost uncontrollable urge to run away from what’s going on right now. The wanting-to-run feeling is an instinctual reaction to an otherwise innocuous sense of groundlessness and unease. This uneasiness arises whenever something takes place that makes us feel as if one of our buttons has been pushed and we’ve been exposed somehow. And while this wide-openness and vulnerability is in fact nothing to be afraid of, it feels so unnerving when we resist it that our brains search desperately for ways to quench the flames that arise from our fearful and doubtful minds.
Which rings clear and true.
Friday, June 20, 2014
occasionally i rise to the occasion
…and post two a day, as a make-good for the recent long, dry spells.
so an amazing thing has been happening and just sort of came to a wild in-my-face get-through-this-shit ah-ha moment. (enough with the hyphens, let's move on to the dot dot dots I'm so fond of).
For the past however long, I have been in this You Are Invisible, Unimportant, Unmissed frame of mind. I have been feeling downright dejected, and like nothing will never ever be the way i want them to be in my life. i have helped many get their art careers going, and going strong sometimes. but can't seem to promote myself. not out of feeling less-than, just feeling tired every time i thought about doing it…posting that fantastic post on Facebook or here in this blog, or pushing for a show somewhere. i just can't seem to follow through and have let some cool opportunities slip by. and yet - have felt a hot jealousy when the very people i help - get shows and opportunities. not wishing them less, but wishing myself more. and feeling like my magic touch had turned sour on myself and felt old and fat and unneeded and obsolete. oh big old sigh poor me. and some addictive behaviors started rearing their heads in the whiff of an opportunistic sniff of a maybe chance to roar. but the dragon remains asleep. save for 7 or 8 sets of china. and i knew full well that maybe that wasn't my path, so things were actually working out pretty well. but still i wanted wanted wanted. pout foot stomp hot tears swearing much wine drinking. but there was a teeny spark of magic still holed up in my heart that refused, absolutely refused, to be smothered. and that glint of a spark held tight and sure, and slowly reignited all the broken bitter bits that had fallen from the heart that had squeezed itself so tight that it was numb and felt like an old leather glove…brittle bits of that ugly heart reignited like a Phoenix and began to warm this heart and shine brighter and brought life and laughter with it (and s'mores, of course). and on the day when there was just the slightest flicker of the flame, an unimaginable gift arrived, and attached was a note "YOU WERE MISSED." I was missed. out of 200 people milling about at the most fantastic spot in the universe…I was missed. I swear to you, my heart burst. full out. in the middle of the day, in front of The One who believes less in me than I even did…it burst. and i pointed to the gift, and the note, and watched a curious expression on the face facing me. then i came up here to tell you about it.
I was missed. hot damn and don'tcha know.
so an amazing thing has been happening and just sort of came to a wild in-my-face get-through-this-shit ah-ha moment. (enough with the hyphens, let's move on to the dot dot dots I'm so fond of).
For the past however long, I have been in this You Are Invisible, Unimportant, Unmissed frame of mind. I have been feeling downright dejected, and like nothing will never ever be the way i want them to be in my life. i have helped many get their art careers going, and going strong sometimes. but can't seem to promote myself. not out of feeling less-than, just feeling tired every time i thought about doing it…posting that fantastic post on Facebook or here in this blog, or pushing for a show somewhere. i just can't seem to follow through and have let some cool opportunities slip by. and yet - have felt a hot jealousy when the very people i help - get shows and opportunities. not wishing them less, but wishing myself more. and feeling like my magic touch had turned sour on myself and felt old and fat and unneeded and obsolete. oh big old sigh poor me. and some addictive behaviors started rearing their heads in the whiff of an opportunistic sniff of a maybe chance to roar. but the dragon remains asleep. save for 7 or 8 sets of china. and i knew full well that maybe that wasn't my path, so things were actually working out pretty well. but still i wanted wanted wanted. pout foot stomp hot tears swearing much wine drinking. but there was a teeny spark of magic still holed up in my heart that refused, absolutely refused, to be smothered. and that glint of a spark held tight and sure, and slowly reignited all the broken bitter bits that had fallen from the heart that had squeezed itself so tight that it was numb and felt like an old leather glove…brittle bits of that ugly heart reignited like a Phoenix and began to warm this heart and shine brighter and brought life and laughter with it (and s'mores, of course). and on the day when there was just the slightest flicker of the flame, an unimaginable gift arrived, and attached was a note "YOU WERE MISSED." I was missed. out of 200 people milling about at the most fantastic spot in the universe…I was missed. I swear to you, my heart burst. full out. in the middle of the day, in front of The One who believes less in me than I even did…it burst. and i pointed to the gift, and the note, and watched a curious expression on the face facing me. then i came up here to tell you about it.
I was missed. hot damn and don'tcha know.
Live your dreams now to any degree that you can. With every purchase. Every decision. Every hello and goodbye. Every assignment. Every conversation. Every meal. Every morning, afternoon, and evening. And never, ever, ever look back. Reframe every thought, word, and deed from the perspective of the person you've always dreamed you'd be, as if your life was already as you've always dreamed it would be. Die to yesterday's illusions and be reborn to the truth of your vision.
-TUT
so true. such good advice. a theme, the past week. wasting energy wanting what i see coming to others…yet still being grateful for the things percolating for me…the tick and the tock. needing to own the knowledge that i need not live up to anyone else's perception of what i should be doing…(or would that being living down to their expectation of what they want?)
loving the options that are whizzing to me - bringing Combat Paper Project here…working on reliquaries for sweet, beloved fur babies gone on before their people…feeling little clicks of tumblers falling into place…grateful grateful grateful
* for friends
* for Henry
* for the ability to provide balm
* for art and intuition
* for being where I am right now
* for asiago toasted cheese sandwiches. sorry - I am just loving on them too much.
discerning the difference between wishing for something, feeling jealous, and knowing when the pull is really a call to action. knowing what's my journey, and what will never be my path to follow. and being so very okay with that. and not getting caught up in the fame and fortune of it all. When are all the lessons learned??
-TUT
so true. such good advice. a theme, the past week. wasting energy wanting what i see coming to others…yet still being grateful for the things percolating for me…the tick and the tock. needing to own the knowledge that i need not live up to anyone else's perception of what i should be doing…(or would that being living down to their expectation of what they want?)
loving the options that are whizzing to me - bringing Combat Paper Project here…working on reliquaries for sweet, beloved fur babies gone on before their people…feeling little clicks of tumblers falling into place…grateful grateful grateful
* for friends
* for Henry
* for the ability to provide balm
* for art and intuition
* for being where I am right now
* for asiago toasted cheese sandwiches. sorry - I am just loving on them too much.
discerning the difference between wishing for something, feeling jealous, and knowing when the pull is really a call to action. knowing what's my journey, and what will never be my path to follow. and being so very okay with that. and not getting caught up in the fame and fortune of it all. When are all the lessons learned??
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Friday, June 06, 2014
Reliquary for Groucho
I never met Groucho, but he was a much beloved cat...
And Sonny was, and remains, in our hearts….my Perfect Stepdaughter's best friend…her horse….
such an honor to be chosen to craft these reliquaries, these sacred housings for precious mementos.
Wednesday, June 04, 2014
“Either we have hope within us or we don’t, it is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not essentially dependent on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation... Hope in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously headed for early success, but rather, an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed... Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense no matter how it turns out.”
- Václav Havel
and with that being said, I have stepped aside from some things that did not resonate - despite the difficulty others had in understanding. ..and leapt full on swan dive, into what may well become the Best Ever adventure…stay cool and stay tuned...
and with that being said, I have stepped aside from some things that did not resonate - despite the difficulty others had in understanding. ..and leapt full on swan dive, into what may well become the Best Ever adventure…stay cool and stay tuned...
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