i've always been fond of small well-designed living spaces. like boat interiors or apartments in copenhagen. a place for everything. thoughtful, smart, quirky. in that spirit, i've thrown down the gauntlet for myself - design a highly functional live/work space in 435 square feet (or 145 square cubits, if you prefer). mustn't forget the two doggie crates.... er, end tables... (ha - as if!)
this busy time (what with pendant production ramping up for the holidays and a craft fair in the planning stages) is about to get busier. i love it! i'll post pictures of the space now and as i progress with getting things in order. please come back and see how i'm doing.
if only i didn't have so much everything...
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
time to be heard.
yesterday i had an extraordinary encounter: someone read my aura. she told me all about my life, my challenges, my gifts. in exact detail. i've never been read in this way and it was eerie as hell. it was equally fascinating.
let me preface the story with the observation over the last year that i've had trouble with my voice, with being heard. i'd recently talked with my sister about it and mom and i have discussed it a number of times.
i'd spent the day selling my work in little rock at the river market. i met loads of people and one of them, upon seeing that i was from hot springs, said she had left there because the energy was too intense for her. she's a massage therapist and healer. i told her of someone i'd met through the hot springs farmer's market - who did reiki. when i told her the woman's name, her eyes lit up and she said "she's awesome". frankly, i didn't even know what reiki was until i looked it up while writing this blog entry. shameful, i know.
this woman (the reiki woman), at a party i went to last week, handed me some crystals (i don't know which ones) to see if i responded to the energy they allegedly contained. i did. i felt vibrations through my throat but was unsure if it was from the crystals or from the intense scrutiny i was getting from the small gallery of people awaiting my reaction. i put it down to a little of both.
it was an interesting enough experience that i asked her to let me know when she was holding a beginner's class on crystals. the area here is rich with them and i love information. i used to study crystals a bit, once upon a time. i have a tiny burlap bag of specially chosen crystals that i carry when i travel. i got them before i spent my summer in france in 1998. i no longer remember what they are or why i specially chose them, but i carry them all the same.
back to the river market. as we talked, i briefly relayed the story about holding the crystals to the woman i'd just met. i didn't tell her any details of what i felt. she asked me if i wanted her to read my aura. i responded with an enthusiastic yes - i'd often wondered about auras (as i wonder about so many things). i stood back, unsure of what to do with my hands. she looked around, past, through me. her eyes are piercing brown. i watched her watch me. and i waited. suddenly, she stepped back, shook her head a bit and said "wow". wow?????? that's when she told me that i hold a lot of what's keeping me back in my throat. she said i need to honor my voice and who i am at a deeper level. that i'm a healer. she had goosebumps when she told me that we are sisters. she laid her palms on mine and the vibrations were so intense. it was amazing, amazing, amazing. she said many other things - about specific life experiences i've had and specific experiences on my current path. i actually fought tears as she spoke - it was surprising.
truly, i don't know what to say about any of it except that it was extraordinary. it was eye-opening (third eye, if what this woman said is true). i just looked up the chakras and see that the throat chakra's function is communication and creativity. interesting. i've been feeling my creativity soar as my communication has declined. it's time for balance, i think, of these things. the woman from hot springs had told me that people do not end up here by accident. that we are drawn here. in light of the year i've had since i arrived, i'm inclined to agree.
let me preface the story with the observation over the last year that i've had trouble with my voice, with being heard. i'd recently talked with my sister about it and mom and i have discussed it a number of times.
i'd spent the day selling my work in little rock at the river market. i met loads of people and one of them, upon seeing that i was from hot springs, said she had left there because the energy was too intense for her. she's a massage therapist and healer. i told her of someone i'd met through the hot springs farmer's market - who did reiki. when i told her the woman's name, her eyes lit up and she said "she's awesome". frankly, i didn't even know what reiki was until i looked it up while writing this blog entry. shameful, i know.
this woman (the reiki woman), at a party i went to last week, handed me some crystals (i don't know which ones) to see if i responded to the energy they allegedly contained. i did. i felt vibrations through my throat but was unsure if it was from the crystals or from the intense scrutiny i was getting from the small gallery of people awaiting my reaction. i put it down to a little of both.
it was an interesting enough experience that i asked her to let me know when she was holding a beginner's class on crystals. the area here is rich with them and i love information. i used to study crystals a bit, once upon a time. i have a tiny burlap bag of specially chosen crystals that i carry when i travel. i got them before i spent my summer in france in 1998. i no longer remember what they are or why i specially chose them, but i carry them all the same.
back to the river market. as we talked, i briefly relayed the story about holding the crystals to the woman i'd just met. i didn't tell her any details of what i felt. she asked me if i wanted her to read my aura. i responded with an enthusiastic yes - i'd often wondered about auras (as i wonder about so many things). i stood back, unsure of what to do with my hands. she looked around, past, through me. her eyes are piercing brown. i watched her watch me. and i waited. suddenly, she stepped back, shook her head a bit and said "wow". wow?????? that's when she told me that i hold a lot of what's keeping me back in my throat. she said i need to honor my voice and who i am at a deeper level. that i'm a healer. she had goosebumps when she told me that we are sisters. she laid her palms on mine and the vibrations were so intense. it was amazing, amazing, amazing. she said many other things - about specific life experiences i've had and specific experiences on my current path. i actually fought tears as she spoke - it was surprising.
truly, i don't know what to say about any of it except that it was extraordinary. it was eye-opening (third eye, if what this woman said is true). i just looked up the chakras and see that the throat chakra's function is communication and creativity. interesting. i've been feeling my creativity soar as my communication has declined. it's time for balance, i think, of these things. the woman from hot springs had told me that people do not end up here by accident. that we are drawn here. in light of the year i've had since i arrived, i'm inclined to agree.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
making a break for it
that's what i say i'm doing. the break is in no way literal, though. not yet. i've been thinking a lot about marriage and love. as i anticipate the final day of my marriage, i find it a mystery that i ever got to this point. the break is that, going forward, these things look very different to me.
growing up, i always assumed i would get married and have a family - a human family - of my own. i was, for a time, proposed to about once a year. i rejected most of them outright. some took longer. at 20 i was briefly engaged to a cop who, when he pointed his gun at his dog, became my ex. at 26, to an idea guy who was all energy and frenzy and fun. i broke off the engagement when i realized the depth of his madnesses, the fragility of his house of cards. for a time i worried he'd come back for revenge. it's the only time i ever feared someone in that way but i never ever saw or spoke with him again. whew.
since, i've spent a lot of time in situations that would never bear fruit of the marital kind (such as two years at the side of a gravely injured friend - through coma and rehab). to an extent i wonder why. to a larger extent i think i know. there are lists of reasons i won't explore here. lists - plural. i've thought of sitting down with a therapist and seeing how close i come to my own diagnosis. hmmm... i should check into that!
as i look forward (and i am) to being single again, i know that the circumstances under which i would marry again would have to be pretty remarkable. this is liberating. in all this talk of marriage i haven't yet mentioned love. interesting. as much as i'm skeptical of marrying again, i believe a great, enduring love is still possible for me. even probable. as i am free of the social construct that marriage represents to me, it opens doors for the real and true.
for now, i work on making my place in this place. it's good, good, good.
growing up, i always assumed i would get married and have a family - a human family - of my own. i was, for a time, proposed to about once a year. i rejected most of them outright. some took longer. at 20 i was briefly engaged to a cop who, when he pointed his gun at his dog, became my ex. at 26, to an idea guy who was all energy and frenzy and fun. i broke off the engagement when i realized the depth of his madnesses, the fragility of his house of cards. for a time i worried he'd come back for revenge. it's the only time i ever feared someone in that way but i never ever saw or spoke with him again. whew.
since, i've spent a lot of time in situations that would never bear fruit of the marital kind (such as two years at the side of a gravely injured friend - through coma and rehab). to an extent i wonder why. to a larger extent i think i know. there are lists of reasons i won't explore here. lists - plural. i've thought of sitting down with a therapist and seeing how close i come to my own diagnosis. hmmm... i should check into that!
as i look forward (and i am) to being single again, i know that the circumstances under which i would marry again would have to be pretty remarkable. this is liberating. in all this talk of marriage i haven't yet mentioned love. interesting. as much as i'm skeptical of marrying again, i believe a great, enduring love is still possible for me. even probable. as i am free of the social construct that marriage represents to me, it opens doors for the real and true.
for now, i work on making my place in this place. it's good, good, good.
Monday, July 20, 2009
as·pi·ra·tion
~the act of breathing and especially of breathing in
~a strong desire to achieve something high or great.
~an object of such desire.
in this time of standing still i find myself taking inventory in a very literal way. of aspirations, of what is good and right. of how my life can look going forward.
it's been a bit of a slog lately. a shallow exchange of busy air that has passed for breathing for so long now. but hours and hours in a darkened theatre watching the ideas of others flicker in a million colors and sounds has given me something to aspire to. has helped me again breathe in. all the way in.
some of what i saw was of questionable quality but that's not really important. those people did something brave. they aspired to make a film, to bring it to the world, and that's what they did. that it's film and not writing or art or music or charity work or a really good pesto sauce makes no difference.
the question of how my life can look is a mystery yet. i won't try to invent too may details - as i am inclined to do - because i don't think it serves my unfolding story. or me. or the people around me. all i can say is that the work of letting things be, even as i actively seek change, has begun in earnest.
i wish everyone the opportunity to breathe in.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
nest
in my twitter bio i say i'm in flux. ain't it the truth. i just heard from my lawyer today - the papers have been filed and things are FINALLY moving forward. i think i hear creaking, but at least they're moving.
whenever my friend is unsettled, she talks about not being able to make her nest. i feel this way. i'm not sleeping, i've been brooding, back-talky and generally unpleasant. i do apologize to the public at large - and i swear it'll pass.
i've decided to try a dbg in honor of my cousin's lovely blog.
d(esire): my own nest
b(rag): great cookware to put in my nest's kitchen
g(ratitude): the feathery comfort of family and friends during all this flux
whenever my friend is unsettled, she talks about not being able to make her nest. i feel this way. i'm not sleeping, i've been brooding, back-talky and generally unpleasant. i do apologize to the public at large - and i swear it'll pass.
i've decided to try a dbg in honor of my cousin's lovely blog.
d(esire): my own nest
b(rag): great cookware to put in my nest's kitchen
g(ratitude): the feathery comfort of family and friends during all this flux
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
small town
malvern, ar, doesn't have a cab service.
today a man with all his possessions packed in two neat, wheeled suitcases came to the door of the bank i work for. he made the mistake many do in thinking we have money there. we're the operations center (i like to think we're "the brains") and mainly ensure that everything in the money places runs as it should. we keep the doors locked.
one of the guys went out to speak with him, bringing a cold bottle of water along. the man, who thought he might possibly have an account with us, was looking for a place to get some help - his house had been stolen. clearly, he needed far more help than is contained in a cold bottle of water.
the receptionist started making calls to see if there was a place we could refer him to, a local shelter. she settled on calling the police to see if they might know of someplace. they sent an officer who, after talking with him for a few minutes, drove off. we think he gave him some money for food.
anyone who knows me knows this would never do. i knew there were places in hot springs a mere 17 miles away. i started making calls as our new friend wheeled toward the sonic. i called a women's shelter to get a number for a men's shelter to see if they knew of a malvern shelter. no such thing. my co-workers told me the nearest mental health facility of any sort is in bryant, 35 miles away. i'm still not sure that's true - it's too heartbreaking to consider.
i found, after a few calls, a place in hot springs that could take him this afternoon. he'd have a bed, a shower, a meal. check-in time was between 4 and 5:30 pm. it was about 11:30 am. i figured i could pay for a cab ride to get him to hot springs. no such thing. cab services in hot springs won't come there, either. i called the police back, i called the sheriff's department. they have cars, right? they transport people, right? not today. even so, i thought he might have gotten to malvern hitchhiking (we're right near the interstate). i decided to write everything down and bring it to him, suggest he spend the day heading in that direction.
he was out of sight by now - it had been a while. i got in my car and started driving around to find him. how hard could it be? it was hard. 20 minutes later, i found him crossing an expanse of grass behind some tennis courts. i called after him and told him about the place in hot springs, about how he could have shelter, a shower. he earnestly told me he just needed to get his money to buy a new car and change his identity. no more surgeries, he pleaded, no more lsd, no more fbi following him - he was done.
i gave him the note with all of the information. he put it in his pocket. if he turns up tomorrow, i'll do the same thing.
today a man with all his possessions packed in two neat, wheeled suitcases came to the door of the bank i work for. he made the mistake many do in thinking we have money there. we're the operations center (i like to think we're "the brains") and mainly ensure that everything in the money places runs as it should. we keep the doors locked.
one of the guys went out to speak with him, bringing a cold bottle of water along. the man, who thought he might possibly have an account with us, was looking for a place to get some help - his house had been stolen. clearly, he needed far more help than is contained in a cold bottle of water.
the receptionist started making calls to see if there was a place we could refer him to, a local shelter. she settled on calling the police to see if they might know of someplace. they sent an officer who, after talking with him for a few minutes, drove off. we think he gave him some money for food.
anyone who knows me knows this would never do. i knew there were places in hot springs a mere 17 miles away. i started making calls as our new friend wheeled toward the sonic. i called a women's shelter to get a number for a men's shelter to see if they knew of a malvern shelter. no such thing. my co-workers told me the nearest mental health facility of any sort is in bryant, 35 miles away. i'm still not sure that's true - it's too heartbreaking to consider.
i found, after a few calls, a place in hot springs that could take him this afternoon. he'd have a bed, a shower, a meal. check-in time was between 4 and 5:30 pm. it was about 11:30 am. i figured i could pay for a cab ride to get him to hot springs. no such thing. cab services in hot springs won't come there, either. i called the police back, i called the sheriff's department. they have cars, right? they transport people, right? not today. even so, i thought he might have gotten to malvern hitchhiking (we're right near the interstate). i decided to write everything down and bring it to him, suggest he spend the day heading in that direction.
he was out of sight by now - it had been a while. i got in my car and started driving around to find him. how hard could it be? it was hard. 20 minutes later, i found him crossing an expanse of grass behind some tennis courts. i called after him and told him about the place in hot springs, about how he could have shelter, a shower. he earnestly told me he just needed to get his money to buy a new car and change his identity. no more surgeries, he pleaded, no more lsd, no more fbi following him - he was done.
i gave him the note with all of the information. he put it in his pocket. if he turns up tomorrow, i'll do the same thing.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
blame it on the moon
at 4:30 this morning, a large orange moon settled in on the trees. i only saw it for a moment before it wriggled its way down into the limbs and disappeared.
the battle i wage with melancholy can be epic at times. for me, last saturday, the melancholy settled in like that massive moon settled on those trees. i was overtired, i was reflective, i was spent. though the morning had been incredibly positive and successful, there was one episode that wouldn't just slide past me.
opportunity sometimes comes at you cloaked in a bad memory.
i was approached by a person to participate in a show. great, right? yes, great. she represents a pro-choice organization and prefaced her interest in my work with a near-disclaimer about who she works with/for. i assured her that i, too, am pro-choice and that i was interested to know more about this show. however, as she spoke i found myself fighting the urge to tell her of a print i had done, of the choice i had made, once upon a time. and how, though i am pro-choice, that decision still has its teeth in me more than twenty years later. i'm not convinced that's what she'd want to hear.
i titled the piece "the muddy nature of choice". when i first showed it, there were tears all around. several people asked if they could buy or trade for one of the edition. really? why? i still don't know. what i've learned in these intervening years is that the decisions i make - good or bad - can endure. many things can be re-decided. many, many things. some cannot. as i approach my 45th birthday having never been a parent, this particular choice comes with a built-in echo. i never know when it'll come around again. when it does, i am disarmed anew.
the decision i made wasn't easy. it also wasn't my decision alone. it should have been. since that time, i have been vigilant in following my instinct, following my own voice. i am often wrong but i'm ok with that. i stand or fall in living what i decide.
i just got in from walking the dogs. that orange moon is on the rise - this time on the up-side of the sky. as always, thanks for listening.
the battle i wage with melancholy can be epic at times. for me, last saturday, the melancholy settled in like that massive moon settled on those trees. i was overtired, i was reflective, i was spent. though the morning had been incredibly positive and successful, there was one episode that wouldn't just slide past me.
opportunity sometimes comes at you cloaked in a bad memory.
i was approached by a person to participate in a show. great, right? yes, great. she represents a pro-choice organization and prefaced her interest in my work with a near-disclaimer about who she works with/for. i assured her that i, too, am pro-choice and that i was interested to know more about this show. however, as she spoke i found myself fighting the urge to tell her of a print i had done, of the choice i had made, once upon a time. and how, though i am pro-choice, that decision still has its teeth in me more than twenty years later. i'm not convinced that's what she'd want to hear.
i titled the piece "the muddy nature of choice". when i first showed it, there were tears all around. several people asked if they could buy or trade for one of the edition. really? why? i still don't know. what i've learned in these intervening years is that the decisions i make - good or bad - can endure. many things can be re-decided. many, many things. some cannot. as i approach my 45th birthday having never been a parent, this particular choice comes with a built-in echo. i never know when it'll come around again. when it does, i am disarmed anew.
the decision i made wasn't easy. it also wasn't my decision alone. it should have been. since that time, i have been vigilant in following my instinct, following my own voice. i am often wrong but i'm ok with that. i stand or fall in living what i decide.
i just got in from walking the dogs. that orange moon is on the rise - this time on the up-side of the sky. as always, thanks for listening.
Friday, July 3, 2009
boomboomboom
i sit here writing when i have a million things to do. fortunately, i consider writing among the million. other things include completing my display boards for tomorrow, finishing about 80 pendants for tomorrow, packing the car for tomorrow, having cafe 1217's excellent tomato soup for ..... wait for it..... dinner. heeee.
anyway, i'm missing gallery walk this evening. this happens too much. i'm not missing fireworks in little rock. well, technically, i am. i was supposed to go with family and friends to watch from the ballpark but ended up having too much to do (for tomorrow) and had to beg off.
here's the thing - i'm happy (and relieved) because i hate fireworks. for the whole of my life, i've hated them. sure, i can ooooh and aaaah with all y'all but, really, i just don't get it.
and then...
i was 5'6" when i arrived for my summer in aix-en-provence. two events occurred while i was there. first, france won the world cup. aside from singing "god save the queen" while standing in the main town fountain (i was very good considering i only just learned it), i endured bottle rockets and firebombs whizzing by my head. now, that was a party... i have pictures someplace in storage. no flash, just flashes and, subsequently, flashbacks.
second, bastille day - a mere two days later.
in france, there are no fences around the fireworks launchers. there is no "safe" distance. it's an interactive experience. they shoot them straight up and let the sparks and ashes fall onto and through the plane trees. onto my hair, onto my shoulders, onto the interior of my right eyeglass lens and, sadly, into my lovely bottle of wine. this was new for me. new and very bad. the smell of sulphur permeated everything and the sound dislodged centuries-old bricks from buildings for miles around. i swear it.
imagine a turtle standing more or less upright. this was my posture for my remaining weeks in france. even through the wonder of the landscape, the clear, clear light, the dizzying scents of rosemary and lavender growing wild. i was traumatized. upon my return, 5'5". i swear it.
my view of fireworks has drawn ire from some and conspiratorial confessions from many, many more. it's a sort of cultural peer pressure, i think, to "enjoy" fireworks. i'd like to hear why people love them because i'm not buying it. anyone?
psssst - i hated "forrest gump", too. oh, and teddy bears? ick.
anyway, i'm missing gallery walk this evening. this happens too much. i'm not missing fireworks in little rock. well, technically, i am. i was supposed to go with family and friends to watch from the ballpark but ended up having too much to do (for tomorrow) and had to beg off.
here's the thing - i'm happy (and relieved) because i hate fireworks. for the whole of my life, i've hated them. sure, i can ooooh and aaaah with all y'all but, really, i just don't get it.
and then...
i was 5'6" when i arrived for my summer in aix-en-provence. two events occurred while i was there. first, france won the world cup. aside from singing "god save the queen" while standing in the main town fountain (i was very good considering i only just learned it), i endured bottle rockets and firebombs whizzing by my head. now, that was a party... i have pictures someplace in storage. no flash, just flashes and, subsequently, flashbacks.
second, bastille day - a mere two days later.
in france, there are no fences around the fireworks launchers. there is no "safe" distance. it's an interactive experience. they shoot them straight up and let the sparks and ashes fall onto and through the plane trees. onto my hair, onto my shoulders, onto the interior of my right eyeglass lens and, sadly, into my lovely bottle of wine. this was new for me. new and very bad. the smell of sulphur permeated everything and the sound dislodged centuries-old bricks from buildings for miles around. i swear it.
imagine a turtle standing more or less upright. this was my posture for my remaining weeks in france. even through the wonder of the landscape, the clear, clear light, the dizzying scents of rosemary and lavender growing wild. i was traumatized. upon my return, 5'5". i swear it.
my view of fireworks has drawn ire from some and conspiratorial confessions from many, many more. it's a sort of cultural peer pressure, i think, to "enjoy" fireworks. i'd like to hear why people love them because i'm not buying it. anyone?
psssst - i hated "forrest gump", too. oh, and teddy bears? ick.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
time spent
i have no less than six blog entries in my drafts. every time i try to drag one out and work on it, there's something else to do, someplace else to put my energy. my best thinking happens in the early morning (or late night) hours and, by the time i have a fully formed idea, i'm in a place where i can't do any writing. someplace inconvenient like work...
i think much of this mental log-jam stems from work right now. we're (two of us) in the process of digitizing all account files of a specific type from twenty branches and a seven-year time span. the paper files are disassembled, sorted, scanned, sent to the proper digital storage section, verified page by page to make sure the scan was successful and that each page can be easily found in the system, then reassembled to be put (in fresh new paper folders) into fireproof filing cabinets. there is much staple-pulling and re-stapling.
i'm sure i have lost any audience i had by know. i feel your crushing boredom, really i do. and it has to be done by tomorrow. we found out about the deadline 2.5 weeks ago.
when i came to hot springs, i was sure i could find a reasonable job. maybe a teaching job. salaries here are very low, but then, so is the cost of living comparatively. i work with nice people who spend much of their time bemused by my wide-eyed fish-out-of-water observations. i like them. i'll have been working with them one year in august. at times it seems like ten years. as nice as they are, as a friend would say, they are not my people. and i don't mean that in a negative way - they certainly feel the same about me.
i know jobs are scarce and i'm grateful i have one. there are moments, though, when i feel i'm trading an awful lot. of my heart, of my imagination, of my energy. the challenge here is one of shoveling papers from one spot in the building to another. chasing, chasing, chasing an arbitrary deadline. there is little about it for the mind, for growth. satisfaction must come from a decisive click as the file drawer closes. then, this project will be done - followed soon by a similar one - and nothing in the world will be much better for it. sometimes i have a hard time with that - like this morning.
i know there must be a benefit for someone on earth from what i do today, right? for now, i'll continue to do a good job, i'll stop whining very soon, i'll work on figuring that out. thanks for listening.
i think much of this mental log-jam stems from work right now. we're (two of us) in the process of digitizing all account files of a specific type from twenty branches and a seven-year time span. the paper files are disassembled, sorted, scanned, sent to the proper digital storage section, verified page by page to make sure the scan was successful and that each page can be easily found in the system, then reassembled to be put (in fresh new paper folders) into fireproof filing cabinets. there is much staple-pulling and re-stapling.
i'm sure i have lost any audience i had by know. i feel your crushing boredom, really i do. and it has to be done by tomorrow. we found out about the deadline 2.5 weeks ago.
when i came to hot springs, i was sure i could find a reasonable job. maybe a teaching job. salaries here are very low, but then, so is the cost of living comparatively. i work with nice people who spend much of their time bemused by my wide-eyed fish-out-of-water observations. i like them. i'll have been working with them one year in august. at times it seems like ten years. as nice as they are, as a friend would say, they are not my people. and i don't mean that in a negative way - they certainly feel the same about me.
i know jobs are scarce and i'm grateful i have one. there are moments, though, when i feel i'm trading an awful lot. of my heart, of my imagination, of my energy. the challenge here is one of shoveling papers from one spot in the building to another. chasing, chasing, chasing an arbitrary deadline. there is little about it for the mind, for growth. satisfaction must come from a decisive click as the file drawer closes. then, this project will be done - followed soon by a similar one - and nothing in the world will be much better for it. sometimes i have a hard time with that - like this morning.
i know there must be a benefit for someone on earth from what i do today, right? for now, i'll continue to do a good job, i'll stop whining very soon, i'll work on figuring that out. thanks for listening.
Monday, June 22, 2009
write-bites...
...for lack of a better term. i have been unable to string enough thoughts together for a complete (whatever that might be) blog entry, so i'll offer the following for now.
~this morning - the unthinkable. someone was in my shower stall at the gym. what????? this is the first time it's happened and i considered waiting for her to finish, even though there were two other stalls available. i decided to change my perspective, suck it up and step into the one on the right. it was dark in there. luckily, i pretty much know where everything is and was able, ultimately, to shower successfully. the showerhead made a horrifying sound, though. like one of those whistles my 7th grade gym teacher had, even down to the rattle the little ball makes inside it. i was ready to off someone by the end of the ordeal. next time, i'll wait...
~i decided to hold off on moving right now. there's a lot going on, what with the divorce and stuff, so i've decided to try something new. looking before i leap. we'll see how that plays out. in the meantime, the search for a studio/workspace continues.
~my new venture in the farmer's market brought great rewards this weekend. the buyers loved what i was selling, i got a good idea for 4th of july weekend, and i didn't have some man talking baby-talk to me as i figured out the canopy assembly at 5:30 am. on the flipside, i had nobody to set straight about said canopy assembly physics so that was a bit of a bummer... all in all, this is progress. i do love progress, even when i don't know its purpose.
~lastly, i'm warming to twitter in a big way and i won't apologize for it. i read a bio that i wish i'd thought of, though, and it's really the reason twitter is problematic for me. a man wrote that he was "too loquacious" to twitter properly. honey, i sure get that. it is an exercise in restraint. i have a hard time texting in code, limiting my character usage, all of those things. let's be honest - my name is heather and i'm an over-explainer. i won't apologize for it. in the meantime, at least in tweets, 140 characters will have to do.
maybe one day soon i'll have something to say.
~this morning - the unthinkable. someone was in my shower stall at the gym. what????? this is the first time it's happened and i considered waiting for her to finish, even though there were two other stalls available. i decided to change my perspective, suck it up and step into the one on the right. it was dark in there. luckily, i pretty much know where everything is and was able, ultimately, to shower successfully. the showerhead made a horrifying sound, though. like one of those whistles my 7th grade gym teacher had, even down to the rattle the little ball makes inside it. i was ready to off someone by the end of the ordeal. next time, i'll wait...
~i decided to hold off on moving right now. there's a lot going on, what with the divorce and stuff, so i've decided to try something new. looking before i leap. we'll see how that plays out. in the meantime, the search for a studio/workspace continues.
~my new venture in the farmer's market brought great rewards this weekend. the buyers loved what i was selling, i got a good idea for 4th of july weekend, and i didn't have some man talking baby-talk to me as i figured out the canopy assembly at 5:30 am. on the flipside, i had nobody to set straight about said canopy assembly physics so that was a bit of a bummer... all in all, this is progress. i do love progress, even when i don't know its purpose.
~lastly, i'm warming to twitter in a big way and i won't apologize for it. i read a bio that i wish i'd thought of, though, and it's really the reason twitter is problematic for me. a man wrote that he was "too loquacious" to twitter properly. honey, i sure get that. it is an exercise in restraint. i have a hard time texting in code, limiting my character usage, all of those things. let's be honest - my name is heather and i'm an over-explainer. i won't apologize for it. in the meantime, at least in tweets, 140 characters will have to do.
maybe one day soon i'll have something to say.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
fear as luxury
in looking for a place i might want to live, the subject of safety has come up quite a lot when talking with friends. i have a budget that might preclude a "safe" neighborhood in most instances. this doesn't bother me too much. i used to joke, when a friend would worry over where i was living, that i wasn't so concerned about being robbed because my neighbors would be much more inclined to rob her than me. they knew where i lived.
the other upside of a sketchy living sitch is that i would get the best homemade tamales, fresh from my neighbor's kitchen. she sold them out of the trunk of her car but i intercepted them before they got that far. and i was generally on the same power grid as the police station so was always the first to get power back after a hurricane. lots of other things can be considered good about where i've lived - especially if one has a fondness for pounding bass, brightly painted el dorados, walking the dogs by helicopter searchlight.
the down side of safety concerns is fear. i don't like to live that way. there are real things to fear in the world, big things - one need only look to the elections in iran and all that implies for those people. i had a discussion yesterday with a young mom at work. she operates from a place of fear in many, many things. she fears being alone, she fears talking with strangers, she fears the worst from everyone she meets. i don't judge this but i do wonder what it will create in her life as the years pass.
i've lived alone a lot in my life. i've traveled alone a fair amount, too, even overseas. what i know is that if i meet someone's eye, if i greet someone, if i'm aware of my surroundings, i'm that much safer.
i found a little house that may just be perfect for me. the neighborhood has a bad reputation but the street seems pretty quiet and the houses are spaced apart. it has a fenced yard, two bedrooms, a bright dining room, living room and kitchen. i can live and do work in the same space. i might even be able to take in a roommate if i use the dining room for a studio. it's a little craftsman with a red door that once was adorable and is now a bit shopworn. i can relate.
we'll see if the timing is right on this one. i hope so. in the meantime, i cannot dwell on the fearful things. i find baseless fear to be a luxury of sorts. it can paralyze or make the shadows other than they actually are. i don't have that kind of time.
the other upside of a sketchy living sitch is that i would get the best homemade tamales, fresh from my neighbor's kitchen. she sold them out of the trunk of her car but i intercepted them before they got that far. and i was generally on the same power grid as the police station so was always the first to get power back after a hurricane. lots of other things can be considered good about where i've lived - especially if one has a fondness for pounding bass, brightly painted el dorados, walking the dogs by helicopter searchlight.
the down side of safety concerns is fear. i don't like to live that way. there are real things to fear in the world, big things - one need only look to the elections in iran and all that implies for those people. i had a discussion yesterday with a young mom at work. she operates from a place of fear in many, many things. she fears being alone, she fears talking with strangers, she fears the worst from everyone she meets. i don't judge this but i do wonder what it will create in her life as the years pass.
i've lived alone a lot in my life. i've traveled alone a fair amount, too, even overseas. what i know is that if i meet someone's eye, if i greet someone, if i'm aware of my surroundings, i'm that much safer.
i found a little house that may just be perfect for me. the neighborhood has a bad reputation but the street seems pretty quiet and the houses are spaced apart. it has a fenced yard, two bedrooms, a bright dining room, living room and kitchen. i can live and do work in the same space. i might even be able to take in a roommate if i use the dining room for a studio. it's a little craftsman with a red door that once was adorable and is now a bit shopworn. i can relate.
we'll see if the timing is right on this one. i hope so. in the meantime, i cannot dwell on the fearful things. i find baseless fear to be a luxury of sorts. it can paralyze or make the shadows other than they actually are. i don't have that kind of time.
Monday, June 15, 2009
tweet tweet not so sweet.
so, i decided, after discussion with a few people, to join twitter. my friend and i talked about the silly funny profound things people tweet about as we mined lists of followers. fascinating. i've gone and followed scores of "people" who run the gamut from news organizations to poets to museums to corpses. clever or dry, i haven't lacked reading material these last 48 hours.
here's what i find: i have never felt more distant, less connected. i now follow 94 entities. any friends who twitter are lost in a sea of bbc updates and pearls from perez hilton. i'm being followed by many, many pervs and strangers for reasons unknown. i know why i follow hugh jackman, for instance, but, seriously, my photo is hardly the female equivalent. and how do these people recognize my genius from the few words of my bio? in fairness, that Horny Kitty does seem astute....
maybe i started too fast and am suffering from a virtual brainfreeze. dunno. i'll sleep on it for a few days and see how i feel about it. i only have a few hours in the morning and evening to check on this stuff and i suppose for me, at this time, i'd rather sit across from people i know than read (however interesting) what shiloh joile-pitt is sharing. we'll see. for now, i choose what's real.
here's what i find: i have never felt more distant, less connected. i now follow 94 entities. any friends who twitter are lost in a sea of bbc updates and pearls from perez hilton. i'm being followed by many, many pervs and strangers for reasons unknown. i know why i follow hugh jackman, for instance, but, seriously, my photo is hardly the female equivalent. and how do these people recognize my genius from the few words of my bio? in fairness, that Horny Kitty does seem astute....
maybe i started too fast and am suffering from a virtual brainfreeze. dunno. i'll sleep on it for a few days and see how i feel about it. i only have a few hours in the morning and evening to check on this stuff and i suppose for me, at this time, i'd rather sit across from people i know than read (however interesting) what shiloh joile-pitt is sharing. we'll see. for now, i choose what's real.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
home
i've decided to switch my energy, my intention. today. now.
i've been waiting and mulling and deciding to decide. enough. i heard yesterday about a studio space that may be open. don't know that it's a fit, but i'm going to call about it. drove through a neighborhood with a great little house for rent and called. house is perfect - bright, neat, with a fenced yard. price is not perfect. still, the man i spoke with has a number of houses and sent me to see one in my price range. it's dire. but we had a good conversation and he told me that things come up all the time, that he thinks there could be something down the road. i think so, too.
i've done my share of watching and evaluating. i need a workspace. i need a sleepspace. if they are under the same roof, great.
today makes one year since i arrived in hot springs, arkansas - almost to the minute. i'm happy i'm here. i'm ready for the next part.
i've been waiting and mulling and deciding to decide. enough. i heard yesterday about a studio space that may be open. don't know that it's a fit, but i'm going to call about it. drove through a neighborhood with a great little house for rent and called. house is perfect - bright, neat, with a fenced yard. price is not perfect. still, the man i spoke with has a number of houses and sent me to see one in my price range. it's dire. but we had a good conversation and he told me that things come up all the time, that he thinks there could be something down the road. i think so, too.
i've done my share of watching and evaluating. i need a workspace. i need a sleepspace. if they are under the same roof, great.
today makes one year since i arrived in hot springs, arkansas - almost to the minute. i'm happy i'm here. i'm ready for the next part.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
forecast - rain. so to speak.
i'd never seen a sky like i saw yesterday. i ran outside and watched the clouds roll furiously, folding in onto themselves and looking for all the world like angry gray cauliflower. they moved so fast - the whole display was over in about fifteen minutes and i watched it all, transfixed. the rain that followed was brief, an afterthought. the weather equivalent of one of those silly honky bicycle horns on a muscle car. embarrassing.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
today is the first day.
i did it. met with my lawyer. he is forthright and funny and slyly asked if i wanted to go for my ex's retirement money. i declined, with a smile. for all my worry, it seems this will be quite an easy process and, in 30 to 45 days, it will be done.
i called tom to tell him that i won't need what i thought i would from him, that this will involve no effort or expense to him. we had the best conversation we've had in months and months. he's coming around to remembering that i'm not vengeful. he asked if we should each drive 6 hours to meet in tennessee for a celebration once the divorce is final.
i declined, with a smile.
i called tom to tell him that i won't need what i thought i would from him, that this will involve no effort or expense to him. we had the best conversation we've had in months and months. he's coming around to remembering that i'm not vengeful. he asked if we should each drive 6 hours to meet in tennessee for a celebration once the divorce is final.
i declined, with a smile.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
i see things in patterns. or, more aptly put, i find myself seeking patterns in what i see. i like figuring out the next thing coming and where it's just come from. i like to unravel mystery - even if only to decipher the expression that flickers across someone's face. an artist is ever curious, i think. that's my disclaimer for being so nosy. my struggle is that i want to take the discoveries and put them into place. but what place? for now they are these free-floating ideas and snapshots that drift together then drift away in infinite permutations. i need a little imaginary butterfly net to keep the groupings together when they please me.
oh yeah.
once, daily, i would make espresso. some days i'd have cafe con leche, sometimes i'd drink it straight. i love and miss my little stovetop espresso pot and my kitchen i'd use it in. i miss the ritual of it, the smell, the sound of the coffee bubbling up. seems a silly routine to miss, but i do.
though i've always embraced novelty and new experience (along with the associated mild anxiety), i lately recognize i am very attached to routine. sometimes it's routine from another time. i have yet to decide if i like the idea.
every month i pay a bill for storing my belongings in a complexionless, climate-controlled building. it is always the hardest check to write. my books are all in there like so many paper prisoners. my supplies. my supplies to supply my supplies. workspaces and places, favorite frying pan, two danish modern chairs that need recovering. things from my life when my life was mostly mine.
i kept out a box of books and a few things, including my espresso pot, from my daily routine when i moved here. i was hoping to teach and had left some art theory and criticism books very handy. i've gone through and re-read favorite essays. i've looked at the little pot many, many times. i'm sure i could use it where i am now. i really should because, last i checked, my life is still mine. oh yeah.
though i've always embraced novelty and new experience (along with the associated mild anxiety), i lately recognize i am very attached to routine. sometimes it's routine from another time. i have yet to decide if i like the idea.
every month i pay a bill for storing my belongings in a complexionless, climate-controlled building. it is always the hardest check to write. my books are all in there like so many paper prisoners. my supplies. my supplies to supply my supplies. workspaces and places, favorite frying pan, two danish modern chairs that need recovering. things from my life when my life was mostly mine.
i kept out a box of books and a few things, including my espresso pot, from my daily routine when i moved here. i was hoping to teach and had left some art theory and criticism books very handy. i've gone through and re-read favorite essays. i've looked at the little pot many, many times. i'm sure i could use it where i am now. i really should because, last i checked, my life is still mine. oh yeah.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
to the core
my core is killing me.
i didn't even know i had a core until i started using a new machine at the gym this week. and now, it's killing me. sneezing is painful - laughing, bloody excruciating. sheesh. this is good, right?
i started going to the gym about 2 months ago after a very, very long absence. my day now begins at 4:30 am with feeding and walking the dogs, having my coffee, eating breakfast, tending my virtual crops on facebook, walking the dogs yet again. then, i'm off. daylight breaks before 6 as i drive into the mountains.
naturally, i have a soundtrack for my morning. elliptical = pixies, xtc, pretenders, erasure, elvis costello; bench press = billie holiday; machines = english beat and more elvis. i've stopped counting reps and now count beats. i find it helps me forget the torture at hand. i tend to dance on the elliptical machine, a practice that may one day result in tragedy.
after my workout, i get ready for work. i have a very particular preference for the shower stall i want to use and have nearly come to blows over it with the elderly ladies who frequent the pool. i mean, this is serious business. i have forgotten all manner of crucial start-of-the-day items since i began this little venture - some more than once. so far, i've forgotten shampoo, panties, shoes, a blouse and, worst of all, my towel. i never realize any of it until i'm already in the shower.
interestingly, i find that i love it. every single bit of it.
the room is set up with machines unfortunately placed directly before large mirrors. what i find is that i am watching myself emerge in a very literal way. it's both fascinating and gratifying. well, once i got over the horror of the mirrors, of course. i now have about 10 items of clothing that fit me properly. i still wear a couple of pairs of pants that definitely do not, that i can remove without undoing anything. i've assembled a series of uniforms which i wear all the time because i'm not done yet. nope, no way, not yet.
i'm on a journey measured in miles on a machine, in beats counted, in the number of times i forget my drawers, in the steady return to my stronger self. the extreme pain laughing causes me today is, at the core, quite a happy thing.
i didn't even know i had a core until i started using a new machine at the gym this week. and now, it's killing me. sneezing is painful - laughing, bloody excruciating. sheesh. this is good, right?
i started going to the gym about 2 months ago after a very, very long absence. my day now begins at 4:30 am with feeding and walking the dogs, having my coffee, eating breakfast, tending my virtual crops on facebook, walking the dogs yet again. then, i'm off. daylight breaks before 6 as i drive into the mountains.
naturally, i have a soundtrack for my morning. elliptical = pixies, xtc, pretenders, erasure, elvis costello; bench press = billie holiday; machines = english beat and more elvis. i've stopped counting reps and now count beats. i find it helps me forget the torture at hand. i tend to dance on the elliptical machine, a practice that may one day result in tragedy.
after my workout, i get ready for work. i have a very particular preference for the shower stall i want to use and have nearly come to blows over it with the elderly ladies who frequent the pool. i mean, this is serious business. i have forgotten all manner of crucial start-of-the-day items since i began this little venture - some more than once. so far, i've forgotten shampoo, panties, shoes, a blouse and, worst of all, my towel. i never realize any of it until i'm already in the shower.
interestingly, i find that i love it. every single bit of it.
the room is set up with machines unfortunately placed directly before large mirrors. what i find is that i am watching myself emerge in a very literal way. it's both fascinating and gratifying. well, once i got over the horror of the mirrors, of course. i now have about 10 items of clothing that fit me properly. i still wear a couple of pairs of pants that definitely do not, that i can remove without undoing anything. i've assembled a series of uniforms which i wear all the time because i'm not done yet. nope, no way, not yet.
i'm on a journey measured in miles on a machine, in beats counted, in the number of times i forget my drawers, in the steady return to my stronger self. the extreme pain laughing causes me today is, at the core, quite a happy thing.
Monday, June 1, 2009
letting off steam
i dated a turkish guy for a while a few years ago. brilliant guy, wonderful cook (turkish food - amazing), one of the darkest people i hope i'll ever know. the relationship ended badly/sadly. i'd foolishly thought i was too old to suffer a broken heart (especially because i was the one who left). i learned a great deal about myself in that situation - nothing i can discuss in polite company but, trust me, a great deal.
i always look for the good. sometimes it takes a while to find but, invariably, i do find it. and i did. i scored from him his mother's recipe for green beans in a pressure cooker. sounds pedestrian, i know, but that's only because you never tasted them. french-cut green beans, onions, olive oil, fresh roma tomatoes, hot red pepper paste (to taste), salt, pepper and sugar. the sugar is the magic, the sugar makes the other ingredients understand one another.
i didn't grow up around pressure cookers and always worried about them exploding (i'd heard stories) so using one was somehow ridiculously daring. i discovered tipping that little release cap on the top while everything roiled inside made the most satisfying hiss. i loved it. then the resulting green beans... hot or cold or room temperature, scooped onto a thick slice of crusty bread. didn't matter. sublime.
the thing about a pressure cooker is that, no matter the build-up of force inside, tipping the cap gives release. sometimes it's angry, sometimes it's plaintive, sometimes it's a mere wisp of steam. my week was much like this - and for many, many reasons. there were green beans, large doses of hot red pepper paste and even the odd onion to contend with.
occasionally, because the pressure must be released, the release is inappropriate to what's happening at the time. i know my failings and i know i do this. a wise person once told me self-awareness is the booby prize. it's what you do with the awareness that dictates success. it can't be all about the pressure, can it? must be time to break out the sugar...
i always look for the good. sometimes it takes a while to find but, invariably, i do find it. and i did. i scored from him his mother's recipe for green beans in a pressure cooker. sounds pedestrian, i know, but that's only because you never tasted them. french-cut green beans, onions, olive oil, fresh roma tomatoes, hot red pepper paste (to taste), salt, pepper and sugar. the sugar is the magic, the sugar makes the other ingredients understand one another.
i didn't grow up around pressure cookers and always worried about them exploding (i'd heard stories) so using one was somehow ridiculously daring. i discovered tipping that little release cap on the top while everything roiled inside made the most satisfying hiss. i loved it. then the resulting green beans... hot or cold or room temperature, scooped onto a thick slice of crusty bread. didn't matter. sublime.
the thing about a pressure cooker is that, no matter the build-up of force inside, tipping the cap gives release. sometimes it's angry, sometimes it's plaintive, sometimes it's a mere wisp of steam. my week was much like this - and for many, many reasons. there were green beans, large doses of hot red pepper paste and even the odd onion to contend with.
occasionally, because the pressure must be released, the release is inappropriate to what's happening at the time. i know my failings and i know i do this. a wise person once told me self-awareness is the booby prize. it's what you do with the awareness that dictates success. it can't be all about the pressure, can it? must be time to break out the sugar...
Saturday, May 30, 2009
the week ends
where i think i am is rarely where i am. what i think people think is rarely what they think.
this is not necessarily bad, it's just perplexing to me since i tend to trust my feelings. the certainty is that, in lots of ways, my feet are most definitely not under me yet. it's coming, though, i know it. i mean, my ideas are waking me up at night. it's been ages since that happened and that's what i need to be certain of. the rest is just the rest.
now my decision is whether to retreat or forge ahead. in this week of downs and ups, the only real choice is to forge ahead. so that is what i'll do.
this is not necessarily bad, it's just perplexing to me since i tend to trust my feelings. the certainty is that, in lots of ways, my feet are most definitely not under me yet. it's coming, though, i know it. i mean, my ideas are waking me up at night. it's been ages since that happened and that's what i need to be certain of. the rest is just the rest.
now my decision is whether to retreat or forge ahead. in this week of downs and ups, the only real choice is to forge ahead. so that is what i'll do.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
words to live by
My advice is, follow my advice: Never forget that only you can ever fully appreciate your own true beauty. Others may try, but they so often fall short.
- Miss Piggy
heeeheeeeeeee!
- Miss Piggy
heeeheeeeeeee!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
memory
have you ever thought about a memory so much that it actually evaporates? nah, me neither. but i've sure worked some of them over.
i once read that we have a finite number of recalls for a particular event. don't know that i believe that, though. since memory is inherently subject to our present perceptions, doesn't it just clock around slightly and become something else? isn't it really ever-changing?
so, by my calculations (paired with deep critical thinking), we only ever remember a thing once in that way. i like that.
i have memories of trying to make memories. i did this quite a lot over a number of years starting in childhood. i'd be in the most innocuous setting - the line at the grocery or sitting at a traffic light on a day bright equally to both the day before and the one that followed - and decide to will the moment to memory. maybe i felt peaceful or happy, maybe i wanted to remember how singularly unremarkable it was. i forget why. what i recall is the effort to keep it, not what i was hoping would be kept.
so it seems i evolve, (hopefully) grow, change. my memories evolve right along with me. it's kinda sweet.
i once read that we have a finite number of recalls for a particular event. don't know that i believe that, though. since memory is inherently subject to our present perceptions, doesn't it just clock around slightly and become something else? isn't it really ever-changing?
so, by my calculations (paired with deep critical thinking), we only ever remember a thing once in that way. i like that.
i have memories of trying to make memories. i did this quite a lot over a number of years starting in childhood. i'd be in the most innocuous setting - the line at the grocery or sitting at a traffic light on a day bright equally to both the day before and the one that followed - and decide to will the moment to memory. maybe i felt peaceful or happy, maybe i wanted to remember how singularly unremarkable it was. i forget why. what i recall is the effort to keep it, not what i was hoping would be kept.
so it seems i evolve, (hopefully) grow, change. my memories evolve right along with me. it's kinda sweet.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
discuss
we have a brand new museum of contemporary art here in hot springs. it has a brand shiny new visitor.
the presence of the golden grenade has the local veteran groups up in arms (so to speak). they say a dove with an olive branch in its beak or, perhaps, an eagle would be more fitting. they say this celebrates war.
i say it does not. i say let's talk about it.
my friend and i drove down bathhouse row last evening. this new addition shone brightly in the late day sun - it's hard to miss. we talked about what might possibly offend us and discovered we probably have stomachs stronger than most. even so, the presence of the sculpture had us wondering why discussing war seems synonymous with being anti-war or worse - anti-country.
i do worry that some view war as a forgone conclusion - as the price of freedom. my problem with this is that freedom is less free when our desire, our effort to talk about the price is berated or bullied. or covered up by the wings of a big eagle.
i understand the cost to those who fight on the front lines is dear. i have never been there and cannot imagine what that's like. i respect the sacrifice and urge those who have made it to understand how i love my country and how my dearest wish is for nobody to have to do what they have done.
i've heard silence is the voice of complicity. i say discuss.
old friends (well, one, at least)
i got a call early this morning from a dear friend whom i haven't seen in three years. she and her family are on a road trip to california from virginia. her children are among the more rambunctious of the species so we knew there would be no deep bonding. even so, we decided it would be a shame for us to be within a 20 mile radius of one another and not get a single hug in.
we met up at a mcdonald's in malvern. her boy, age 4, climbed every fixture in the place and her girl, age 6, after immediately exploring the depths of my purse, settled in to play tic tac toe with herself. to her credit, she won every single game. they are open, spirited, adorable.
my friend and i had done a number of road trips together. we felt the same about getting up early and exploring the cities we were visiting, cameras in hand. watching places wake up. talking with her, i realized how much i've missed her. and how happy i am to see her - if only for a short time. she, too, is a printmaker and has a wonderful press set up in her basement. she's had it for several years and has yet to use it.
i told her i'm staging a raid. i'm going to commandeer a weekend and we, together, are going to print ourselves into a stupor. think i'll invent some harnesses for the kids while i'm at it... or better yet - maybe we can recruit them as printing assistants... woohoo - checking flights now!!
we met up at a mcdonald's in malvern. her boy, age 4, climbed every fixture in the place and her girl, age 6, after immediately exploring the depths of my purse, settled in to play tic tac toe with herself. to her credit, she won every single game. they are open, spirited, adorable.
my friend and i had done a number of road trips together. we felt the same about getting up early and exploring the cities we were visiting, cameras in hand. watching places wake up. talking with her, i realized how much i've missed her. and how happy i am to see her - if only for a short time. she, too, is a printmaker and has a wonderful press set up in her basement. she's had it for several years and has yet to use it.
i told her i'm staging a raid. i'm going to commandeer a weekend and we, together, are going to print ourselves into a stupor. think i'll invent some harnesses for the kids while i'm at it... or better yet - maybe we can recruit them as printing assistants... woohoo - checking flights now!!
who am i today?
It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.
- Oscar Wilde
my guess is that i straddle the line at any given moment - as many of us do. today, though, i'll opt for charming. :-)
- Oscar Wilde
my guess is that i straddle the line at any given moment - as many of us do. today, though, i'll opt for charming. :-)
Friday, May 22, 2009
upward
so here i was, ass that i can be, concerned my finally getting a lawyer was akin to an act of aggression. in my divorce.
huh?
luckily, a 10-minute text-versation with the ex in question made it very clear i am not the aggressor here. whew - that was close.
i don't like to fight. i really thought things could be easy and quiet in this situation and am disappointed they may not be. having said that, a little part of me is suddenly gleeful my lawyer usually litigates personal injury cases....
huh?
luckily, a 10-minute text-versation with the ex in question made it very clear i am not the aggressor here. whew - that was close.
i don't like to fight. i really thought things could be easy and quiet in this situation and am disappointed they may not be. having said that, a little part of me is suddenly gleeful my lawyer usually litigates personal injury cases....
Sunday, May 17, 2009
laughing
i love how life changes. even within the span of hours. i awoke on the wrong side of what might, after all, be a contentious divorce. i will go to sleep with the silliness and laughter of my new acquaintances ringing in my ears. or maybe that was the wasabi bloody mary. whatever - ringing is ringing. i love ringing.
emancipation
the bonsai tree lived 15 years before it was perched on the table at my wedding reception. there were bonsais on all of the tables - that's what i used for centerpieces. they were beautiful but, though i also gave bonsai care books to those who 'won' the trees, one by one, across the nation, the bonsais committed suicide. our older, larger tree made it. for a while.
when i decided to leave i planned to take it with me. tom had never cared about any of it but, strangely, he wanted to keep that tree. it had done pretty well over the two years of our marriage and i'd always found it interesting that the tree thrived where we as a couple did not.
i left, treeless. tom met mom in atlanta a couple of months later to bring her a few things i'd forgotten in my haste (my cool oval wall clock, primarily). he brought the tree with him. it was now a collection of spiky branches and dried leaves. in all these months, it has never recovered. it seems the tree really did symbolize the life-blood of the marriage - that i was the life-blood of the marriage and, in my absence, it ceased to exist. i'd long felt i was doing it all alone. hmm. wonder how that sounds. actually, i don't care how that sounds.
the days and weeks preceding this moment have been filled with insightful, at times revelatory conversation with some of the people i've newly met. it has been invigorating in some ways, draining in others. though these conversations were never about what i'm in the midst of, they have worked to crystallize events that have been brewing as i approach the one-year mark; the mark at which i can legally file for divorce. this has been a tough week as i am suddenly running up against resistance from tom. i didn't expect that. i find myself thinking about aloneness and moving forward. about opportunity as i try and shake this weight from my ankle. it is an absolutely physical sensation and i think the fact that it's only one ankle is promising.
i am floating amongst strangers these days, not really lighting anyplace and without my customary sources of back-up. i've heard physical distance shouldn't impede closeness, that i should be able to lean on people far away. i find this to be untrue. this is a reflection on me, no one else. and so, i am blogging about it. what a strange time.
ps - i just threw away that damned bonsai. ahhh, the weight begins to lift...
when i decided to leave i planned to take it with me. tom had never cared about any of it but, strangely, he wanted to keep that tree. it had done pretty well over the two years of our marriage and i'd always found it interesting that the tree thrived where we as a couple did not.
i left, treeless. tom met mom in atlanta a couple of months later to bring her a few things i'd forgotten in my haste (my cool oval wall clock, primarily). he brought the tree with him. it was now a collection of spiky branches and dried leaves. in all these months, it has never recovered. it seems the tree really did symbolize the life-blood of the marriage - that i was the life-blood of the marriage and, in my absence, it ceased to exist. i'd long felt i was doing it all alone. hmm. wonder how that sounds. actually, i don't care how that sounds.
the days and weeks preceding this moment have been filled with insightful, at times revelatory conversation with some of the people i've newly met. it has been invigorating in some ways, draining in others. though these conversations were never about what i'm in the midst of, they have worked to crystallize events that have been brewing as i approach the one-year mark; the mark at which i can legally file for divorce. this has been a tough week as i am suddenly running up against resistance from tom. i didn't expect that. i find myself thinking about aloneness and moving forward. about opportunity as i try and shake this weight from my ankle. it is an absolutely physical sensation and i think the fact that it's only one ankle is promising.
i am floating amongst strangers these days, not really lighting anyplace and without my customary sources of back-up. i've heard physical distance shouldn't impede closeness, that i should be able to lean on people far away. i find this to be untrue. this is a reflection on me, no one else. and so, i am blogging about it. what a strange time.
ps - i just threw away that damned bonsai. ahhh, the weight begins to lift...
Saturday, May 16, 2009
new people
this morning i had the privilege of hosting a visitor to our fair spa city. we went to see bathtub races in the rain and had a pretty tasty round of pancakes. we talked about the state of hope and the danger of despair.
this person is not someone who will be in my day-to-day life. i will, most likely, never see her again after this weekend. what i learn though, as i reflect on our conversation, is that there really are people who feel the way i do. who feel as much as i do. somehow, that's pretty fucking valuable as i slog through the mess and exhilaration of making new connections.
last night, i was involved in a long conversation with a man who is trying to get to the essence of being human. i listened carefully. i wanted to understand his goal in trying to break things down to such an extent. i wondered out loud where happiness comes in, where connection comes in. he seems almost bent on isolation and viewing history - of people, of places - as the only lens through which to interpret the present. i think there's danger in that. if we, each of us, lay our histories bare, bring our personal atrocities into the daylight, we can only be alone. it can easily become unbearable.
i am deeply cynical. i try to laugh it off but recognize it comes with a cost. i can see through people at about ten paces and have to work very hard to love them (and myself) anyway. it's a constant choice. insomuch as we are animals, we are human animals. we choose. when i act in a way that's kind, i hopefully enrich another and, by default, myself. is that ignoble?
back to breakfast. i am grateful for this visit - i so appreciate positivity and kindness in the same place. it gives me something to aspire to. i know we are animals. i know we sometimes make terrible mistakes in pursuit of personal satisfactions.
i use the word 'hope' quite a lot. i hope good outcomes for others, i hope joy. mainly, i hope i can continue to be hopeful, even through the lens of history.
if all else fails, i can run rings around a bathtub fetchingly dressed as a cow.
this person is not someone who will be in my day-to-day life. i will, most likely, never see her again after this weekend. what i learn though, as i reflect on our conversation, is that there really are people who feel the way i do. who feel as much as i do. somehow, that's pretty fucking valuable as i slog through the mess and exhilaration of making new connections.
last night, i was involved in a long conversation with a man who is trying to get to the essence of being human. i listened carefully. i wanted to understand his goal in trying to break things down to such an extent. i wondered out loud where happiness comes in, where connection comes in. he seems almost bent on isolation and viewing history - of people, of places - as the only lens through which to interpret the present. i think there's danger in that. if we, each of us, lay our histories bare, bring our personal atrocities into the daylight, we can only be alone. it can easily become unbearable.
i am deeply cynical. i try to laugh it off but recognize it comes with a cost. i can see through people at about ten paces and have to work very hard to love them (and myself) anyway. it's a constant choice. insomuch as we are animals, we are human animals. we choose. when i act in a way that's kind, i hopefully enrich another and, by default, myself. is that ignoble?
back to breakfast. i am grateful for this visit - i so appreciate positivity and kindness in the same place. it gives me something to aspire to. i know we are animals. i know we sometimes make terrible mistakes in pursuit of personal satisfactions.
i use the word 'hope' quite a lot. i hope good outcomes for others, i hope joy. mainly, i hope i can continue to be hopeful, even through the lens of history.
if all else fails, i can run rings around a bathtub fetchingly dressed as a cow.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
vertigo
we work. we think. we envision. at times we work with purpose and suddenly find ourselves re-working with newer purpose, pushing up against deadlines and thinking fast on our feet. these are heady times with results uncertain - not knowing what the next push or pull will be. it's dancing on the end of a diving board and hoping like hell the pool is water-filled. vertigo at its best.
we, many of us, work and work and work without joy or direction. we look up one day and wonder - who put those walls there? who on earth thought a green formica desk was a good idea? what does the word 'benefits' really mean?
we know the first kind of work. we've lived it before, we've wildly applauded it for others. we are in the second kind at the moment, hoping like hell for vertigo.
we, many of us, work and work and work without joy or direction. we look up one day and wonder - who put those walls there? who on earth thought a green formica desk was a good idea? what does the word 'benefits' really mean?
we know the first kind of work. we've lived it before, we've wildly applauded it for others. we are in the second kind at the moment, hoping like hell for vertigo.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
so THAT'S what she's been up to...
the woman was impeccably, expensively dressed. she was gorgeous. in fact, i was compelled to compliment her. and then, she spoke.
"thank you so much! you know, this morning i had picked something else to wear but decided to ask the Virgin Mary what she preferred. she guided me and this is what she had me choose - you are the second person to comment. the Blessed Mother never steers me wrong. she always knows what looks best on me."
what about humanity? world hunger? genocide in darfur?
apparently, when she's not appearing on a pancake griddle near you, the Virgin Mary is doling out fashion advice to women of means in little rock. most surprising, i would never have guessed that the Virgin would choose purple over pink. i always thought she liked blue...
"thank you so much! you know, this morning i had picked something else to wear but decided to ask the Virgin Mary what she preferred. she guided me and this is what she had me choose - you are the second person to comment. the Blessed Mother never steers me wrong. she always knows what looks best on me."
what about humanity? world hunger? genocide in darfur?
apparently, when she's not appearing on a pancake griddle near you, the Virgin Mary is doling out fashion advice to women of means in little rock. most surprising, i would never have guessed that the Virgin would choose purple over pink. i always thought she liked blue...
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
the portable gardener
last year was the first time in my memory that i lived in a place with distinct seasons. i decided to play around with growing flowers from seeds and so seeded and tended a tray of 72 little peat pellet sprouts. i had maybe 7 different varieties of flowers started. having never attempted this before i was, naturally, certain all would live and flourish.
the little patch of ground off the back porch of the house was where i planned to plant my garden. it was filled with rocks and loose sand - a treacherous place for little plants. as i worked through the spring and changes were imminent, i ditched the little plot of land in favor of two large clay azalea pots. my cousin thought that was a telling strategy. i crowded my seedlings together in those pots with no thought of plant etiquette - what needs how much and should never or else.... this approach often works for me. things were growing and they didn't look like weeds. it was progress.
on june 15th i packed the dogs, the computer and the two pots into my car for the 12-hour drive to arkansas. it happened to be a glorious day.
summer had begun and slugs were on the march. i'd never dealt with this before. the snapdragons and zinnias feebly bloomed and i tried in vain to figure out what the hell else was in those pots, what had actually made it. they were starting to look like weeds now.
since i don't know a perennial from shinola, i had no idea what, if anything, would survive the winter. a few leafy things did and, magically, the last weeks have brought great excitement to the clay pots. there is strong healthy green. there are shoots, there are buds. what does this mean? no idea. but it's progress.
if i'm not mistaken, i have an echinacea about to bloom. i hadn't known it made the trek and survived the upheaval. i like that it's a healing plant. i can't wait to see it.
the little patch of ground off the back porch of the house was where i planned to plant my garden. it was filled with rocks and loose sand - a treacherous place for little plants. as i worked through the spring and changes were imminent, i ditched the little plot of land in favor of two large clay azalea pots. my cousin thought that was a telling strategy. i crowded my seedlings together in those pots with no thought of plant etiquette - what needs how much and should never or else.... this approach often works for me. things were growing and they didn't look like weeds. it was progress.
on june 15th i packed the dogs, the computer and the two pots into my car for the 12-hour drive to arkansas. it happened to be a glorious day.
summer had begun and slugs were on the march. i'd never dealt with this before. the snapdragons and zinnias feebly bloomed and i tried in vain to figure out what the hell else was in those pots, what had actually made it. they were starting to look like weeds now.
since i don't know a perennial from shinola, i had no idea what, if anything, would survive the winter. a few leafy things did and, magically, the last weeks have brought great excitement to the clay pots. there is strong healthy green. there are shoots, there are buds. what does this mean? no idea. but it's progress.
if i'm not mistaken, i have an echinacea about to bloom. i hadn't known it made the trek and survived the upheaval. i like that it's a healing plant. i can't wait to see it.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
arkansas native... and father of 6?
today i heard 'rhinestone cowboy' and, as always, fought my compulsion to sing
like a rhinestone cowboy
who was busy with three boys of his own
they were four men living all together
and they were all alone
i can't be the only one who thinks of this. am i?
like a rhinestone cowboy
who was busy with three boys of his own
they were four men living all together
and they were all alone
i can't be the only one who thinks of this. am i?
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
hey you...
think of the nicest compliment you ever received.
got it? good.
now, stay with that thought all day.
see ya...
got it? good.
now, stay with that thought all day.
see ya...
stop start
nine months isn't long to live in a place. that's how long i was in greenville, sc. time doesn't always matter, though - some things just work regardless. what worked was the work, what worked was the people. i did interior design - something i always loved and thought i could do, but had never done before. but seriously, when has that ever been a real issue?
it was a small firm - three (four including our manager) designers. one, i later discovered, was in a wedding with my sister in gainesville, fl, years ago. they share a close friend. weird crazy. the other, our token guy, now lives in nyc. i really must visit. then there's our manager. she is from paris and has lived in the states (including arkansas) since the 60's. you would never know it. john was convinced for the first week that my name was hazer because of how coco introduced me. "zees eez our new designer - hazer" he still calls me that.
what i didn't know, walking into the situation, is that the owners were close to retirement. i started in october, the outlook turned bleak in november. this was not to be a long-term gig for reasons i couldn't anticipate. what i also didn't know is that this little group of people, as it happens, is a long-term gig. lucky me.
i had had the privilege of working with some wonderful clients. i worked on a 100-year old house in historic spartanburg, i worked on a log home with a two-story wall of windows overlooking a lake (in the fall, no less - it was almost too beautiful to bear), i worked on a mountainside home just over the north carolina border. somehow, i got the special ones.
my favorite was in greenville proper. this family, an obstetrician and her husband, asked me to de-90's their brick home. i had designed drapes and window treatments for her and was in the process of re-imagining the entry way without the giant brass octopus of a chandelier. we had a comprehensive plan for the rest of the living areas. from design to installation, window treatments can take upwards of 8 weeks to complete - especially when you use a very good, very busy workroom. many things can happen in eight weeks. businesses can go under, marriages can unravel, friends can emerge in the unlikeliest circumstances. it all happened.
when i left at the end of march (saw what was happening, didn't want to get dragged under), i decided to start my own design business. the good doctor told me that she would follow me to my new business, that she would be my first client. i am ever grateful for her confidence in me. i spent the month of april temping with a local builder and starting new things. john had also left for a new start-up firm in greenville. we still visited and discussed our plans for a call-in radio show. listeners would email floorplans and pictures of their spaces and we would give them on-the-spot fixes for their design problems. "design diagnosis" was to be the name of our show. we were also in development on our confederate barbie doll. i still think of her longingly...
bzzzzzzzzzzzt. so here i am. john moved to new york and now sustains a commuter marriage - his wife is still in greenville. coco and kristin started their own design firm once the other closed for good last june. i'm expecting their new letterhead in the mail any day now. they are so excited as they trudge through this dire economy, even knowing this might be a skinny year. my doctor client is now their client. she's in very good hands. i sent my good wishes to her via kristin yesterday morning. her husband has lost his job. still, they have moved forward with the plans - my plans and theirs - to reimagine their space. kristin says, a year in, they are still thrilled with what i'd done and that they ask about me regularly. coco told them at the beginning that, working with them, i would make their house a home. i always thought that was a high compliment. i started it and my friends will see it through.
i'm toying with the idea of doing design work here. still sussing the market to see what's established and where i can fit in. ok then - ready, set, start...
it was a small firm - three (four including our manager) designers. one, i later discovered, was in a wedding with my sister in gainesville, fl, years ago. they share a close friend. weird crazy. the other, our token guy, now lives in nyc. i really must visit. then there's our manager. she is from paris and has lived in the states (including arkansas) since the 60's. you would never know it. john was convinced for the first week that my name was hazer because of how coco introduced me. "zees eez our new designer - hazer" he still calls me that.
what i didn't know, walking into the situation, is that the owners were close to retirement. i started in october, the outlook turned bleak in november. this was not to be a long-term gig for reasons i couldn't anticipate. what i also didn't know is that this little group of people, as it happens, is a long-term gig. lucky me.
i had had the privilege of working with some wonderful clients. i worked on a 100-year old house in historic spartanburg, i worked on a log home with a two-story wall of windows overlooking a lake (in the fall, no less - it was almost too beautiful to bear), i worked on a mountainside home just over the north carolina border. somehow, i got the special ones.
my favorite was in greenville proper. this family, an obstetrician and her husband, asked me to de-90's their brick home. i had designed drapes and window treatments for her and was in the process of re-imagining the entry way without the giant brass octopus of a chandelier. we had a comprehensive plan for the rest of the living areas. from design to installation, window treatments can take upwards of 8 weeks to complete - especially when you use a very good, very busy workroom. many things can happen in eight weeks. businesses can go under, marriages can unravel, friends can emerge in the unlikeliest circumstances. it all happened.
when i left at the end of march (saw what was happening, didn't want to get dragged under), i decided to start my own design business. the good doctor told me that she would follow me to my new business, that she would be my first client. i am ever grateful for her confidence in me. i spent the month of april temping with a local builder and starting new things. john had also left for a new start-up firm in greenville. we still visited and discussed our plans for a call-in radio show. listeners would email floorplans and pictures of their spaces and we would give them on-the-spot fixes for their design problems. "design diagnosis" was to be the name of our show. we were also in development on our confederate barbie doll. i still think of her longingly...
bzzzzzzzzzzzt. so here i am. john moved to new york and now sustains a commuter marriage - his wife is still in greenville. coco and kristin started their own design firm once the other closed for good last june. i'm expecting their new letterhead in the mail any day now. they are so excited as they trudge through this dire economy, even knowing this might be a skinny year. my doctor client is now their client. she's in very good hands. i sent my good wishes to her via kristin yesterday morning. her husband has lost his job. still, they have moved forward with the plans - my plans and theirs - to reimagine their space. kristin says, a year in, they are still thrilled with what i'd done and that they ask about me regularly. coco told them at the beginning that, working with them, i would make their house a home. i always thought that was a high compliment. i started it and my friends will see it through.
i'm toying with the idea of doing design work here. still sussing the market to see what's established and where i can fit in. ok then - ready, set, start...
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
surprise
i am seldom surprised. i am usually surprising. others, that is. hehehe.... mom has accused me of being an exceptional liar in pursuit of the great gotcha. i view that as a good thing. is the end result joy? was anyone hurt in the process? yes/no/done.
could it be that nobody surprises me because i see too much? is it a dying art? has all imagination gone from our lives?
the exception to this was last year on my birthday, courtesy of my cousin in far-off florida. i had posted a facebook status that read something like "heather really does want world peace. and some pie". i got a call at mom's shop from a local bakery. "will you be there for the next 20 minutes? we're delivering lunch to you." really??? cool. turns out they didn't have pie as such but they had a kick-ass quiche which is, technically, pie. it was perfect - the planets aligned, the world breathed deeply. surprise.
could it be that nobody surprises me because i see too much? is it a dying art? has all imagination gone from our lives?
the exception to this was last year on my birthday, courtesy of my cousin in far-off florida. i had posted a facebook status that read something like "heather really does want world peace. and some pie". i got a call at mom's shop from a local bakery. "will you be there for the next 20 minutes? we're delivering lunch to you." really??? cool. turns out they didn't have pie as such but they had a kick-ass quiche which is, technically, pie. it was perfect - the planets aligned, the world breathed deeply. surprise.
Monday, May 4, 2009
first day
i heard from a former student last night. he asked if i was going to graduation in miami on the 19th. when i told him i wasn't going to make it he had one word for me - LAME. caps are his. actually, i think he's right.
i was unaware the impact those kids i taught for those couple of years would have on me. i thought it was supposed to be the other way around. this guy got into a bit of trouble once - a freshman lapse of judgment in the eternal, unforgiving landscape of the world-wide web. we talked for hours about actions and consequences and how we cannot let the lapses define us. he's a talented kid. maybe in a different way from others in his family but he's certainly no less able to change the world. i'm thinking he might.
my hope for him is that, on the first day of his future, he can see the promise i see. i wish my lame self could be there for that.
i was unaware the impact those kids i taught for those couple of years would have on me. i thought it was supposed to be the other way around. this guy got into a bit of trouble once - a freshman lapse of judgment in the eternal, unforgiving landscape of the world-wide web. we talked for hours about actions and consequences and how we cannot let the lapses define us. he's a talented kid. maybe in a different way from others in his family but he's certainly no less able to change the world. i'm thinking he might.
my hope for him is that, on the first day of his future, he can see the promise i see. i wish my lame self could be there for that.
five things i fear
the big facebook deal is to list five. favorite countries, famous people you've met, hot actors, things in your cosmetics bag (i didn't do that one because spackle wasn't one of the choices) - you get the idea. i've done a few of them, just for kicks. one i've studiously avoided is the five things i fear. so, fine. here they are.
i fear goats.
i fear religious zealots
i fear remote control cars
i fear.... goats.
i've been thinking about this for at least a week and this is all i can come up with. why do i not fear snakes in a toilet (does that really happen????)?
i fear goats.
i fear religious zealots
i fear remote control cars
i fear.... goats.
i've been thinking about this for at least a week and this is all i can come up with. why do i not fear snakes in a toilet (does that really happen????)?
Sunday, May 3, 2009
socializing in a vacuum part deux
i woke up grumpy. this happens approximately once every 3 or 4 months. not bad, on balance. i have a theory that people who wake up in a foul mood on a daily basis are fundamentally unhappy. i married one of those people and, in time, decided not to wake up to that every day ever again. all this to say that i mostly awaken to a bright, possibility-filled place even, or especially, when it's cloudy out. i'm not giddy or foolish about it, though. it is tempered with the understanding that i don't know much and that the best paths are not linear in the least.
i came here last june. here, i failed to mention earlier, is hot springs, arkansas. spa city. i chose the name of this blog because i am not a spa type at all. my idea of hell is to go with a bunch of girlfriends for seaweed wraps and full-body massages by strangers. i can't shut my mind down long enough to enjoy stuff like that. a mani/pedi is my limit and even that requires wine. call it a character flaw. i like the irony of being in a town like this - so spa-centric to the tourists, having come from an area that is so tan-centric to tourists. here i am, the whitest white girl going. i used to joke with my friends that i feared the white of my legs would somehow jam the radar at Palm Beach International Airport and that my appearance on the beach could, quite possibly, make planes fall from the sky.
now, to the present. i had essentially been on a 5-year hiatus from my life, from myself. i'm in the midst of rediscovering what i like/love/want and have found that i've become very discerning about how i spend my time. i'm not interested in cultivating friendships without common ground. maybe this is a reaction to time spent with people i had absolutely no deeper connection with. i don't know. this is at odds with opening myself up to new people, new situations i suppose. i always got 'unsatisfactory' marks for 'uses time wisely' on my childhood report cards. maybe i just don't want those anymore.
prior to my brief, ill-fated stay in south carolina from whence i abandoned my marriage, i lived in a very populated, very busy place. not so long ago i would go out to a bar by myself and run into at least 10 people i knew and enjoyed seeing. i value my time alone and could be alone if i wanted, but i didn't ever have to be. this is in sharp contrast to my life today. i have made a couple of friends now, one of whom is that person here - the one who doesn't ever have to be alone. i don't think envy is what i feel but it is most interesting to be on this, the anonymous side of the equation. it makes me aware of the things i miss, the things i never realized i wouldn't have, if only for a while. i know it will change in time as i meet more people. i know, i know it takes work and risk and waking up to possibility. it probably also takes getting over myself to some degree. yep, i get it.
i came here last june. here, i failed to mention earlier, is hot springs, arkansas. spa city. i chose the name of this blog because i am not a spa type at all. my idea of hell is to go with a bunch of girlfriends for seaweed wraps and full-body massages by strangers. i can't shut my mind down long enough to enjoy stuff like that. a mani/pedi is my limit and even that requires wine. call it a character flaw. i like the irony of being in a town like this - so spa-centric to the tourists, having come from an area that is so tan-centric to tourists. here i am, the whitest white girl going. i used to joke with my friends that i feared the white of my legs would somehow jam the radar at Palm Beach International Airport and that my appearance on the beach could, quite possibly, make planes fall from the sky.
now, to the present. i had essentially been on a 5-year hiatus from my life, from myself. i'm in the midst of rediscovering what i like/love/want and have found that i've become very discerning about how i spend my time. i'm not interested in cultivating friendships without common ground. maybe this is a reaction to time spent with people i had absolutely no deeper connection with. i don't know. this is at odds with opening myself up to new people, new situations i suppose. i always got 'unsatisfactory' marks for 'uses time wisely' on my childhood report cards. maybe i just don't want those anymore.
prior to my brief, ill-fated stay in south carolina from whence i abandoned my marriage, i lived in a very populated, very busy place. not so long ago i would go out to a bar by myself and run into at least 10 people i knew and enjoyed seeing. i value my time alone and could be alone if i wanted, but i didn't ever have to be. this is in sharp contrast to my life today. i have made a couple of friends now, one of whom is that person here - the one who doesn't ever have to be alone. i don't think envy is what i feel but it is most interesting to be on this, the anonymous side of the equation. it makes me aware of the things i miss, the things i never realized i wouldn't have, if only for a while. i know it will change in time as i meet more people. i know, i know it takes work and risk and waking up to possibility. it probably also takes getting over myself to some degree. yep, i get it.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
socializing in a vacuum part 1
I always prefer to believe the best of everybody - it saves so much trouble.
- Rudyard Kipling
so, yeah. this is how i feel.
- Rudyard Kipling
so, yeah. this is how i feel.
inaugural address
succumbing to the voices in my head, i have decided to try this blogging thing on for a spell. i hope this isn't like when a person gets a new pony and they can't wait to trot it out to show the neighbors only to leave it in the pasture after a month or two. we'll see. i guarantee nothing.
this blog will more or less chronicle how a person who knew someone everywhere she went in the course of a day becomes almost entirely anonymous. and a bit of a curiosity to those around her. as many of you know (assuming i will have some meager audience...), i am a person who isn't great at being anonymous. everything is different. every. thing. i guess i want to talk about the strangeness of the journey.
to wit; i am now working with a group of people who were born and raised in the same small town in arkansas. they, many of them, are related to one another (in the non-icky sense) and know each others' entire histories. i cannot imagine it. there are new plants, new design trends, new directions to contend with. well, new to me, anyway.
let's start with the plants. wow - things are blooming everywhere i look and the landscape can change entirely from one day to the next. i drive into the mountains every morning and see the changes in an instant. one of my co-workers brings flowers almost every day and the variety is astounding to me. she: "i grew this 2-foot yellow iris and these peonies are from 40-year-old plants in my grandmother's yard" me: "GREW??? where's the cellophane?" i think they laugh at me a lot.
design trends. camo as nursery decor, baby wear, even a recliner (i shudder to think...). to be specific, real tree. as we all awaited the birth of this baby (who is really as cute as hell), i suggested they would need heat-sensing goggles in order to locate him. had they registered for those?
finally, directions. i am from south florida. if you drive east, you are in the atlantic ocean - west, the gulf of mexico. it takes 7 hours to even leave the state unless you are on a boat, in which case it takes 35 seconds. i am now in the center of a large web of roadways that don't necessarily meet up. ever. the amount of swearing in public has decreased but in my car, why that's another f*&%#@%g story.
so there. be gentle, gentle readers.
coming soon - socializing in a vacuum.
this blog will more or less chronicle how a person who knew someone everywhere she went in the course of a day becomes almost entirely anonymous. and a bit of a curiosity to those around her. as many of you know (assuming i will have some meager audience...), i am a person who isn't great at being anonymous. everything is different. every. thing. i guess i want to talk about the strangeness of the journey.
to wit; i am now working with a group of people who were born and raised in the same small town in arkansas. they, many of them, are related to one another (in the non-icky sense) and know each others' entire histories. i cannot imagine it. there are new plants, new design trends, new directions to contend with. well, new to me, anyway.
let's start with the plants. wow - things are blooming everywhere i look and the landscape can change entirely from one day to the next. i drive into the mountains every morning and see the changes in an instant. one of my co-workers brings flowers almost every day and the variety is astounding to me. she: "i grew this 2-foot yellow iris and these peonies are from 40-year-old plants in my grandmother's yard" me: "GREW??? where's the cellophane?" i think they laugh at me a lot.
design trends. camo as nursery decor, baby wear, even a recliner (i shudder to think...). to be specific, real tree. as we all awaited the birth of this baby (who is really as cute as hell), i suggested they would need heat-sensing goggles in order to locate him. had they registered for those?
finally, directions. i am from south florida. if you drive east, you are in the atlantic ocean - west, the gulf of mexico. it takes 7 hours to even leave the state unless you are on a boat, in which case it takes 35 seconds. i am now in the center of a large web of roadways that don't necessarily meet up. ever. the amount of swearing in public has decreased but in my car, why that's another f*&%#@%g story.
so there. be gentle, gentle readers.
coming soon - socializing in a vacuum.
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