The Broken Column
Frida Kahlo, 1944

Discovery


Today, the sun's rays don't reach my little
corner of the earth. We are grey and wet,
nearly every light in the house on. My daughter
works on her Power Point slides in preparation
for her debut as teacher--Introduction to Social
Work. I don't know how she has the energy level
to do all the things she does. She's working on her
LCSW, working full time as supervisor of children's
services at a domestic violence shelter, playing with
the band on occasion, renovating a house with her
boyfriend, chairing committees, attending meetings,
having fun, etc.

The rain just started falling, which may mean our
best laid plans will fall, too, in tandem with the drops.

Walk.

That was the plan for noon or so. And we may still
do that if it stops soon.

I am going to keep Isaac while my son and his wife
go to lunch and a movie. Then tonight, hubby and I
are going to a friend's. Daughter and boyfriend are going
to be painting the hall. I'm excited about it and hope
the colors I chose work well. I chose a color called thyme
green for the bottom part of the wall, and another color
(can't recall the name--a lighter green) for the upper
part. My hallway is rather long and wide (about 18x6).
It has lovely wide baseboards, crown molding, and oranate
chair rail with a beaded pattern. Going to leave the woodwork
white, but I am going to put a very pale green on the ceiling.

We'll see how it works out.

Going to go read some more Annie Dillard--Living by Fiction.
Interesting read thus far.

I like the poem below. I like the language, the premise, the
visuals, the connotations. So, I'll share it.


Finding a Bible in an Abandoned Cabin

Under dust plush as a moth's wing,
the book's leather cover still darkly shown,
and everywhere else but this spot was sodden
beneath the roof's unraveling shingles.
There was that back-of-the-neck lick of chill
and then, from my index finger, the book

opened like a blasted bird. In its box
of familiar and miraculous inks,
a construction of filaments and dust,
thoroughfares of worms, and a silage
of silverfish husks: in the autumn light,
eight hundred pages of perfect wordless lace.

Robert Wrigley

I'm so glad

the holidays are over! I enjoy the time with family
and friends but not all the fuss and money spending
and stress. That being said, this holiday season has
been one of the best that I can remember, ever.
Ever. As in going back to being a kid and getting all
excited over my brand new roller skates (with a key),
my jewelery box with a spinning ballerina, my new
plaid big bellbottom pants and blouse. Or the Christmas
I got one of those sit-n-spin thingees.

I don't have many memories from my childhood re:
the holidays. Matter of fact, it's hard to pull up memories
of much of anything from those days except for negative
things.

I would like to be hypnotized and asked some questions.
I would like electrodes attached to my brain and some
kind of tape recorder which could interpret brain waves
into words just to know some of the shit that's in there.

Don't know what I'd do with all the things I found out
or what purpose it would serve, but it seems to me I have lost
some part of me, which I desperately need to know about,
in the process of losing or not being able to retrieve those
memories.

**************************

Need to go get dressed. Back to work today. I was on call
on New Year's Eve, but only called out once, and it was
rather early. I was back home by 9, but it took an hour
(round trip) to get there and another hour to get someone
to transport the individual I assessed. By the time I got in
(I had worked all day and been very busy), I wasn't up to
making the hors de oeuvres, but maybe I'll do that tonight.
Daughter and boyfriend are coming to start working on the
hallway. I finally got all of the wallpaper stripped off. I just need
to come home and wash the walls down.

My friend from Atlanta may come as well.

The more the merrier!

Then hubby and I have a party to go to tomorrow night. It's
a rare thing for us to go out, but he really enjoys talking to my
friend's dad (they are close to the same age and enjoy many
of the same things), so he's all for going. Of course, my friend
is 20 years younger than me, which makes me close to her
mom's age, and I like her mom, but I love A and we're on the same
wavelength for the most part. It seems weird at times to have
a friend who is the same age as my oldest child.

*************************************

My thought for the day:

"We keep passing unseen through little moments of other people's lives."

Robert Pirsig

To all my old friends, and to my new who I hope become old friends

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WB0nt22Sgi8

And another that I can't pass up:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZORK6nI8kg&feature=related

Open

That's the operative word for this new year
for this writer. Open. To suggestions, to experiences,
to ideas, to letting the universe have her way with me
often, to being kinder to myself, to invitations,
to words, to kindness, to healing. No more hiding.
No more running away. No more holding on to a past
which brings me such great sadness.

May the experiences find a way to work themselves
into my life in such a way that I no longer fear or
regret them. May the power they've had over me
diminish with each second I choose to be open
to letting life in the moment fill me.

**********************************

On to other matters.

How in the hell do I get that big ass picture
of myself off the page? I clicked on gadget to add
it when I noticed I no longer had a picture
of me on here. So, I went back to gadget to get
rid of it, but the only options I see are "add"
a gadget. Posting a great big picture of moi makes
it seem as though I'm a bit too into me.
:)

***********************************

So, open blog again. I no longer need to hide myself
away. I have liberated myself from the negativity
which compelled me to hide. It is a part of the healing
to know how completely one can let go of the things,
people, places, and memories which we oftentimes allow
to hold us hostage.

***********************

Every year I say I am not going to make resolutions.
It's pointless if you're not going to be proactive to just
write down a list of things you "ought to" do.

No ought to for me, but some thoughts:

*Less salt
*More exercise
*Way, way less alcohol
*At least 1 trip in the spring to a state park to hike
*More time at the river--I miss my river time
*Less sitting around feeling sorry for myself
*Acceptance, but not acceptance which prevents change
*Lots of reading
*Take a class in the discipline I love the most--would that be a
lit class or a creative writing class? I think it might be!
*Lose no less than 30 pounds (not only would I look
better, my heart would thank me--blood pressure
and cholesterol are not in good shape)
*A trip to a museum or art gallery on a regular basis
*Get my art supplies out of the closet and into the light
and start drawing and painting
*Get my hair "styled"--yeah boy, styled! I have not had
a hair cut since I lost my job over 2 years ago (except for
the butchering I subject it to every month or so)
*Get contact lenses
*Tackle one big project this year--perhaps I'll strip, sand
and refinish my hardwood floors all by myself
*Continue to work on my relationships (a friend I have known
since 1972 but had not seen much over the last 30 years
has now come back into my life. I am so grateful for her
and we are so enjoying each other's company)
*Allow time for pampering

Ok, there's much more I can think of but I think that's
a pretty ambitious start!

*****************************

This from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
(which I am rereading for the umpteenth time!)

The N, his son, and some friends are travelling across
country on motorcycles. Pirsig writes:

We want to make good time, but for us now this is
measured with emphasis on "good" rather than "time"
and when you make that shift in emphasis the whole
approach changes.

*******************************

Happy 2009, dear readers!

Another experience, on the long list of experiences, that I hope will be mine one day

Star Block

There is no such thing
as star block.
We do not think of
locking out the light
of other galaxies.
It is light
so rinsed of impurities
(heat, for instance)
that it excites
no antibodies in us.
Yet people are
curiously soluble
in starlight.
Bathed in its
absence of insistence
their substance
loosens willingly,
their bright
designs dissolve.
Not proximity
but distance
burns us with love.

Kay Ryan

******************************

My daughter gave me Kay Ryan's Say Uncle
for Christmas. I was telling her a few weeks
ago that I had never read any of the work of
the new Poet Laureate of the US, so she choose
this selection. Haven't decided yet how much
I like her, but I like the poem above.

It makes me think about a comment someone
made one time about how ridiculous he found
the old saying absence makes the heart grow fonder
to be. He's one of those people you meet who think they
are right most of the time, so I went along with him,
but I do think there is something to be said
for the longing that comes with absence.