"If you have an apple and I have an apple and we exchange these apples then you and I will still each have one apple. But if you have an idea and I have an idea and we exchange these ideas, then each of us will have two ideas." George Bernard Shaw

exactly.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

the portable gardener - reprise

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 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.

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.

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...