Hot Tubs and Children

Crash. It was an odd set of circumstances but my feet, going one way, and Jenn's foot going another, just got tangled and BOOM, down I go. Arnica, ibuprofen, and Topricin, have helped ease the pain and bruising, but cripes, why do I have to remind myself that I'm still young enough to get up???

The hot tub over at my boy's house was also wonderful. Thank the Universe for hot tubs... and children.

Pendant For J

I had a little holiday show at work and sold a few things. It was nice. But I think my favorite was the only guy who bought something. He's one of the sweet ones. Lots of times he's my Bengali tea boy, annoying and awkward and annoying. So I try to love him the best I can. I try to see myself in him. It's a practice, at this point, and I think it's a good one.

It's one of the pieces from a brass ashtray I found at the Goodwill. It's connected with a very old African trade bead and I find the energy from it especially grounding. I'm really glad he has it.

Vulnerability

Stillness Within Movement

Today a massage. And messages. Messages about challenges and the importance of seeing the teacher in our experience. Release. Energy moving from mind to heart. Perception and focus as pendulum, back and forth and then again Breath. Breathing into pelvis. Out toward openness without denying grief.

I have a practice now of taking really good things into my body. I'm reminded that I can practice, daily, quieting my mind.

Inside Outside Within

Broken Stuff

All day, little tiny crackling sounds in my, what is that? My heart? My mind? My soul? And tonight I considered the word shattered, over and over. And I wondered if shattered was the same thing as depressed. But I decided it was it's own thing. It's own special thing. A sadness so deep it breaks everything on the surface into pieces that scatter and reflect back and moanhowlbawl.

Went to put the hemp milk on the shelf in the cupboard above the sink and KAPLOWIE!!! a shattering of glass fell to the floor as the shelf just gave way. I stood in the corner, barefoot, silenced, stunned, frozen. Tiny steps at a time I walked through it to the place where my shoes were and I was safe.

For the moment.

Foggy Day, Happy Dog

What a beautiful day. It was supposed to burn off to 50 degrees but I don't think that ever happened and it didn't matter. We walked and ran and he swam and walked and ran and laughed and barked. And there was a heck of a lot of tail wagging.

When we first got together, today, he seemed unsure or a little nervous. He walked into my new home and sniffed for a good half hour and finally settled down. He's such a joy.

January 8, 2011

Re reading some posts on the blog and found this one from 2011. Memories streaming through me. Sensations of my innocence and hope.

Please, no more walls.

Gentler Thoughts of Life

The beautiful boys where I work ask each other regularly, "how can I not be myself?" I understand it's from the movie I heart Huckabees, which I have not seen, but plan to. They smile at one another in the sweetest, purest way. I love them.

There are times, these days, when I do not understand, at all, how my heart can feel so full. Like a rush, like a sacred orgasm, like the smell of the ocean and it's song pulsing against senses. These moments suprise me, shove me gently out of my broken hearted reverie and dare me to feel life as new and inspiring. And it won't be denied, fortunately. I always give in and with this surrender, feel washed clean.

Intuition

Paint. Glass paint. Tiny little particles embedded in a fluid that burns away in the heat leaving the glass fused within the canvas. I called this one Intuition because that particular way of perceiving is such a journey. So many symbols. So many ways of trying to decipher them all. I think one has to really trust themselves to even try, and still, trust and all, there is plenty of opportunity to get completely lost. So in this piece there is clarity and path and mystery and symbol. And getting lost was part of it's creation and is at the core of my love of it's beauty.

and oh sometimes i wish i were better at all of it. the seeing, the love, the intuition.

Beyond Hierarchies

Liz Quackenbush

I've been absorbed into a new collection of ceramics magazines. Enthralled. And in reading an article on this artist I found so much wisdom and validation and beauty.

"Quackenbush concludes that beyond every system of order lies the possibility for affinities to assert themselves between formerly disparate elements and for the gaps separating these to contract and heal like the circumference of a wound."

Dwelling within these words I find the memory of knowing that there is art to relationship. That creativity must be at the heart of solving problems and that without it, there is no solution, only behaviors that manifest the same experience over and over and over again.

Imagination. I'm going to keep imagining the possibilities. They are truly endless.

Tribe

 William Morris. One of the most inspirational glass artists in my life. One of the most inspirational artists in my life period. They are like paintings or ceramics and metal and he creates artifacts in the here and now. I believe he is connected to some thing(s) ancient and powerful. Sometimes I feel that connection in me.

I remember one time a vision. Like a dream but no sleeping. The smoke of the fire in my nostrils and the smell of the fur under my body as I was curled upon it. Dirt on my skin and I think an ocean close by. The sound of the crackling warmth and a sense of family, my people, my tribe.

In this culture, in this life, I've felt lost in a lack of tribe. Imprisoned in the absence of it. Maybe that's why relationship holds such a hopeful attraction for me. One of the reasons anyway, I suppose.

Perception of a Day

Sculpture by Amanda Shelsher

I did not go to my studio today. I don't know how long it's been since I've worked there. There was the completely unorganized chaotic craft show that I was getting ready for, then Christmas, then the new year of finding myself single, moving, and heartbroken in a matter of days. More changes than I could have even imagined. Life at it's most absorbing, yeah? The studio calls to me and, perhaps tomorrow.

But I did sleep in and and go to therapy, both essential for my peace of mind. Took myself out for brunch with 10 bucks that I didn't put in the gas tank, read ceramics magazines like they were dessert, cried, read about paleo exercise (found myself "lunging" after 4 or 5 steps and it felt great!), cried, researched beta glucan and a few other polysacharides, went to the BIG hardware store and got another pretty white shelf for my tiny kitchen, put it up and felt very proud, cried, and decided to do laundry.

Ah the laundry room. $1.50 for wash, the same for a dry. I met Calvin there. He's lived here for about 8 years. He can't exactly remember and besides his dog passed away today and he's not very grounded and very sad. And then I met Carl. He lives above me and he accidentally walked into my apartment instead of his a little earlier. Suppose he just forgot to climb the stairs. He's nice. He hasn't heard the smoke alarm go off when I take a shower with the door open. It's on the ceiling just outside the bathroom. Not smart. He says his is in the same place but that doesn't happen. Go figure.

Then I read email from my friend Sarah and it reminded me to take notes. Notes like this. Journal. And so here I am. I wonder what will happen next.

The Rules of Engagement

in the mean time strangers hold hands and pray words i don't understand but quench myself in trembling inside where wildfire ravaged creeks create river wombs so deep the moon rises on the walls of white bellies swollen with regret pressed against foolishness stumbling upon unquestioned answers finger walking across skin so hungry even time is frail against ears starved for one word of courageous truth. 

in the meantime.... the dull edge of one unilateral decision rips apart life where love might have made a kinder slice.