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Anjolie, your roots are showing…
Whatever do you mean? [Checks hair in mirror.]
You’re wearing flannel to the grocery store (again).
Aw, come on…where I grew up this is STILL considered fashionable.
Anjolie, you’re dreaming again…
tick tock tick tock
hop on a top to find the drop
missing stars
white bright shiny night
you
flicking marbles from fingertips
watch them rock, watch them roll…
i stand
on the broken glass
stains spread from my between my toes
silent night
white
bright
silent
night
i scream into shower walls
here now
there there
ssssshhhh
he’ll pass
he never loved you anyways
not like i did
not like i did
not ever like i did
your past tense phrasing fails to slip by me
i am the moon
but you didn’t drum for me
still, i am the moon
but you used me and brushed me aside as if you didn’t depend on me
but i know
i am the moon
i’m not certain how
the self can abandon the self
but i feel alone here
even though
i remember it well
i can’t seem to escape
ants keep marching
in
i remember it well
you
me
you never kissed me
yet
the pain still lingers
inside
so that i can’t
forget
“he did not take them away from you
you did not pass them over
those pieces are just drifting
since you dissolved
not part of your current form
therefore you are longing for dissolution
and a lead to make you whole again
but maybe you are looking for past “shapes”
that have been torn
like an evening dress
that seems like an fancy dress looking backward
and you cannot quite believe
that it is possible to be in good shape”
It’s true…sometimes I wonder just how I am in the shape I am at all….
I got the bad news on my other ankle today. Seems it has the same defect as the right one did and it’s going to take surgery to correct. I was suspicious of it when it started swelling…which is why I haven’t been dancing much. That and my right ankle wasn’t quite ready for it yet (it told me so). *sighs* I’m very bummed out…I was so looking forward to dancing again let alone being able to do all my normal activities like hiking and bike riding and chasing around after Emma. I don’t suppose they’ll be doing the surgery for a while yet as my right ankle isn’t recovered enough to take on the full weight load. I’m going to work hard at riding my stationary bike (that doesn’t seem to bother either ankle too badly) and keep after my diet. I really need to get the weight back off that I accumulated over the recovery period from the last surgery before I get incapacitated again (was sorta counting on the dancing to help me out with that this summer). I might sneak into a milonga or two for the music but I know my dancing has severely suffered from this. The pain is too distracting after the second dance to really enjoy myself, let alone be an enjoyable partner to dance with. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m out of it for another year. I should probably just invest in that better lens and an off-camera flash and become a tango photographer…
I’ll be back, someday. If only for the music…
This is Flower Oval Ice Cream. She is the newest addition to Emma’s family of not-real-but-getting-there animals. She came in from a dear friend of my husband’s and she is much loved already. If she gets dirty she’ll likely take a spin through the washer and perhaps an airfluff or two in the dryer.
This is Hooter. She came with the husband. She is not as cuddly as Flower Oval Ice Cream but she has a much louder purr (when she feels like purring that is). Hooter is NOT washable or dryable.
Hooter will be 14 years old this summer and though I admit to often fantasizing about a life without Hooter (she can be totally psychotic and miserable) I’m glad she survived her near fatal encounter with the clothes dryer. Seems my lectures about staying away from the dryer went totally unheeded by her (surprise-surprise). The door wasn’t open but five minutes and she had climbed in with a load of not-quite-yet-dry towels (Ooooh, facial anyone?). I had intended to come back and pull all the towels out to fold them but before I could do so my husband had gotten to them. Feeling that some of them were still damp he closed up the door and hit the button. I heard a “thump-thump” and then a “HOOTER!” I hobbled out to the kitchen as quickly as I could with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Somehow, she was miraculously okay but a bit shaken up (as were we all).
I lost a kitten years ago to a dryer incident. A gorgeous five-toed loud-coloured calico called Screaming Meme (because she was always talking). She had to be one of the coolest kittens we’d ever had. I’ve been a bit fanatical about the dryer door ever since then.
Darn cat…she’s going to start my OCD over the laundry all over again. ;)
I know it’s been 7 years already…
But I feel like I’m just now getting to know you.
And it feels like falling in love…
Happy Birthday to you!
I once read that there are over a 100 different shades of green one can find in a single view of the Irish countryside…
I believe that estimate is likely far below the reality…
But from that moment on I longed to make the journey across the sea…
A journey that I have still yet to make.
But before I can ever see that Emerald Isle,
The island that has always seem to call me home…
I must cross the ocean.
And if Ireland has over 100 shades of green…
The ocean has over a 1000 shades of blue
And 1000 more for each one of those thousand.
So, for all the beckoning of that ancient shore…
Nothing compares with Her…
She with the frilly white petticoats, relentless in her forever teasing of the craggy cliffsides…
As if to say,
“There’s no such thing as falling…”
*
…because I packed Emma up and we headed in for the early St. Patty’s Day festivities and it seems everyone cancelled due to the rain. The rain! The mildly misting precipitation that was easily thwarted with a jacket and an umbrella.
Sheesh…you’d think Ireland was a tropical island. Or perhaps it’s the 1/8th bit o’ Irish blood coursing through my veins (though more likely it’s just from growing up on the Olympic Coast ‘coz I’ve got a whole list of other 1/8ths in me as well).
P.S. Seattle didn’t cancel their parade!
P.S.S. I bet Portland didn’t either!
(white ponies – 4×4 inch – watercolour, pen & ink)
I’m remembering more of my dreams. I’ve dreamed of a white pony and a crowd of people , most of whom are familiar to me. They all want the pony to go out “somewhere” but I tell them no, that he’s not quite ready and at the same time I tell the pony that he’s going to have to go “out there” soon. I’m watching over him you see and the “out there” is outside of the pen, outside of the barn…out into a city of sorts.
I’m remembering more of my daytime dreams as well. I cancelled the plans for the online accounting degree. As much as I like putting numbers in boxes, I hate being stuck in front of a computer all day – it’s one of my greatest complaints of my current job. Accounting is a pretty reliable profession but it doesn’t make my heart sing. It isn’t what I really want to do with my life, at all.
If the sky was the limit I would go study at a atelier – a traditional realist art study program. Yep, that’s what I would do. And I would learn how to paint those glowing portraits and landscapes that I fell in love with staring into the Encylopedia Brittanica when I was five years old. There’s nothing like that even close to where I live and the logistics with a child and my husband working out of state feel insurmountable…but that’s my dream. There’s a studio art program at our University of Virginia and at the community college in Charlottesville. Perhaps there’s something there I could do, somehow, someday, some way.
And there’s still that massage school idea. I just need to figure out how to pay the tuition that the loans won’t cover and some way to move to make the schedule work with Emma going to school this fall. She’ll be starting Kindergarten! When did that happen?!? Or my husband could get a job within a half hour of home and I could take the evening classes…but that’s looking less and less likely.
I don’t want to give up on my dreams. I love being mommy but I still want to be me too. And I’ve got lost time to make up for and time with my girl that I don’t want to keep losing by working at a high-stress job that zaps me of my energy and creativity. I also need a job that flows. I’m putting on my thinking cap. There’s got to be some way I can keep earning some income and yet be able to go back to school and/or have the time I need to spend on my art. I’ve got one idea…just not sure if it’s a viable one yet.
Meanwhile, I keep gaining weight and my good ankle is starting to swell the way that my bad ankle did before I had surgery on it. Not a good sign. I’ve got to get my exercise bike fixed (we put in the new part but it’s still not working right) or I’ve got to get a new one somehow. It’s the only cardio I can do that doesn’t cause me problems. Money is super tight but it’d still be cheaper to replace it than it would be to buy a new wardrobe. Seriously. I’m thinking of trying those Acai berries…as well as a trip to the doctor. Perhaps my thyroid is wacking out again. That’d explain the weight and the water-retention and the tiredness. All the B vitamins in the world aren’t going to counteract a messed up thyroid. Gosh, I’m having all these troubles at 31. I’d better get them straight or I’ll be a real mess by the time I’m 40! :)
So, we’ve got company showing up in about 20 minutes. It’s snowing. I’m making a artichoke sausage with vodka sauce pasta dish for dinner. My husband just got back from the store with some rosemary bread (because I spent the morning de-bugging the pc (again) and didn’t feel like baking). I’ve got a notion for a big art project with my watercolours…and that’s all I’m going to say about that. I’m working on rounding up all my ‘re(a)d letters’ photos so I can make a bunch of prints. I think the book project will be easier for me to work on if I could hold the photos in my hands instead of staring at my monitor. I’m more of a ‘hands on’ kind of person. Things make more sense when I can hold the pieces…
Holding pieces – painting dreams. Feels like the same thing.
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