Words

Blogger sometimes sucks. Ok maybe it's my inability to manipulate this darned contraption called my computer to DO what I want it to DO. I was updating my family blog and the spacing was all wrong. I even tried to edit the Html coding. On the preview it looked perfect, but the second it published, wham, horrible spacing. Why does it bother me so badly! Anyway, words.
I took a life drawing class between the months of March to May and now looking at this blog and seeing the woman I drew a couple years ago, I see how very cartoonish she is. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm certainly not going to rob that Amber's pride and joy of actually drawing but it's funny, we're always learning. Even when we're old. Ha. Words.
I'll post a couple pics of some of my life drawing half-done pieces. Give them some voice.

Peace.

I Forgot About This Blog...

I'm still here and wow, I've completely forgotten about this blog... I think I'll start it up again.

What the hell, right?

Peace & Love

YES I CAN

I did it! Oh serendipitous moment! I picked up my pencils and I drew. I flowed, I was passionate, I was in it, I did it. I finally did that first step. Just to pick up the damn pencil. HALLELUJAH.

I let myself explore for an hour and this is the result. I obviously still need a lot of work... wait, why did I say that? Why do I want to try and reign in my excitement and my triumph?? Why am I already wanting to hide back in my shell with fear? This is a huge step for me. I haven't let myself draw like this in... in years. I'm doing back flips inside my chest. I drew. I draw. No need to quiet this down.

There's just a need to crank it up.

Her Eyes and Other Photos

I have a hard time posting full-on pics of my babies on a public blog. But I captured some amazing shots of my little sunshine.

Or her eyes, at least.


I'm not as scared to post photos of myself... I guess. I took these before my play date with Dharma and chopped all my hair off. I wasn't about to post them on my other blog so, since I'm branching out with this one, why hold back? I'll need to convince more people to be my test subjects...

The light coming through the blinds was breathtaking. This doesn't even show...

I'm holding the composition book I do my morning pages in. My wonderful husband supports my writing and got me a plethora of notebooks for Christmas. I'm blessed to have someone who supports me so fully right in my same household and as my forever companion.

I love my books.

And they love me too.

Chicago, The Musical

I was able to see the Broadway show... on Main Street. I LOVED every minute of it. My eyes drank up all the production had to offer. The dancing, the singing, the music, the passion. Dharma definitely needed this. I definitely needed this. In the book The Artist's Way, she talks about how our inner artist needs nourishment. Whether it be a play, a musical, making crafts, singing in the shower even, we've neglected this inner artist too long and they need to be nourished back to health. Well, I had my fill last night... and I wanted more. I even imagined myself onstage in place of Roxy Heart. Owning that stage, owning that audience, belting my voice with each song and loving it.

I had an incredible time. I have wonderful in-laws.

Mother Mary

I open the door as silently as I can. The room is foggy and moist. I squeeze my crunchy down comforter through the doorway and attempt a makeshift bed on the floor next to her crib. The comforter crinkles and cracks so loudly I am certain she'll wake any moment. I peek over and see her sleeping soundly. Soundly and safely. I wonder what it would be like to be an infant again. Everything new, everything fresh, everything wonderful. No wonder her slumber is so deep. I'm jealous of her calm. I slide into my blanket and notice how concrete the floor feels. Already my hips ache. I lay my head down and close my eyes. A movie screen pops up instantaneously. Images flashing by so quickly, I hardly can make out what they are. Thoughts buzzing through at lightening speed. Chaos, mayhem, madness.

Dear God, I whisper, what is happening? Please God, please be with me. I ask permission if I can pray until I fall asleep. With no formal closing, I fear I'm being disrespectful, but no I just need comfort. I need a barrier between me and my racing thoughts. I plead for angels to surround us, me and my baby, in who's room I've chosen for relief. The last thing I want is to bring the madness in here. In this space of peace and purity. Surround us please. An image flashes by on the screen. My brain presses the pause button. Back up. Right there, amongst the Jackson Pollock of my mind, a clear, distinct picture. Part of it familiar, the other, foreign. It's Michelangelo's Pieta. There sits Mary, large hands, soft face. Looking down on what I know to be Christ after His crucifixion and descent from the cross. Sprawled across her lap, half naked, and limp. I imagine my finger tracing the cold marble. Every wrinkle in her shroud perfectly etched, every vein in her hand expanding and constricting with the beat of her heart. I trace down to the second figure. But wait. It's not Christ. It's me.

Blasphemy, a raspy voice cries.

No, says another, like a bell. I see Mary holding me, quieting my fears and I, finding remedy in her solace, curl closer to her chest. I hold this scene in my mind. I ignore the thrashing of negativity at my door. The cutting remarks, the uncertainty, the angst. Mother Mary comforts me... until, at last...

...sleep finds me.


Last night was hell. Except for my vision. I have neglected my morning pages and have ignored and given zero power to my word.

I'm feeling the effects. Little did I know this would be a complaining blog until I could "get it together" and actually start creating. I long to create and be apart of that which is bigger than myself or bigger than I know myself to be.

I'm working through the sludge, but I sense a clearing soon. I pray.

Ummm, Correction...

And by "open" I really mean stuck.

Stuck, stuck, stuck.