Saturday, April 30, 2011

filthy with metaphor

Today is my one year divorceaversary. These things mess with your head a little bit.
How to account for the past year?
I've had more fun than I could have imagined. I've felt more deeply, including the kind of soul-searching loneliness I also didn't know was possible.
And guess what, I felt it, and I survived. So that's something.
This graffiti caught my attention. Two different artists, I think. One riffing off the other. Making commentary on a jagged line.
Some things have come full circle already today in a random, unplanned fashion. I heard the same band in the early hours of the morning that was playing the night things changed for me last year. I hung out with three of the same people. Someone gave me a ring that broke, and had to be pried off my finger with needle nose pliers. My middle finger.
The day, so far, has been filthy with metaphor.

Monday, April 18, 2011

perspective--the view--the vista

When I find myself getting mad, frustrated, sad, angry--I try--I TRY--to challenge my perspective.
The way you look at things is the thing.
Looking at something has a way of changing it, coloring it. The imprint of my eyes, ears, ideas, experiences, biases, desires and disappointments--all this has weight and influence.
#
This picture, well, it's just a leg in purple tights. My leg in purple tights. My leg on a bus seat in purple tights.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

ish

I'm obsessed with this picture, taken in the bathroom at the Caffe Vita on east Pike. I love the shine, the reflection, the oddball ghost.
$
On another note, I know "ish" has been around for awhile. You got all your ish? Ain't that some ish. But suddenly everybody's saying it again. Everybody in my self-selecting circle, that is.
$$
And finally--my mom would have been 63 today. She's been gone seven years now and I still miss her. My sis's and I remember in our own ways, with Yahtzee games and Twizzler/Dr. Pepper snacks and bittersweet chats with grandma.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

what's stopping me

This past weekend forged new seams in my true and creative self.
Friday was a trip across the lake and a bemusing lesson in culture clash, diffidence, guns, fast cars, and sleazy clubs. Not what I had in mind, but ultimately, merci.
Howevah, I also got to chat with longtime favorite solace wonder at bherd gallery, and pick up a wounded heart for a song.
On Saturday I played lackey on a photo shoot for an upcoming album cover, and learned new ways of encouraging lovely, glamorous light. After a shuffleboard/beer break, I brainstormed press release wording with a generous gold-knuckled artist for an upcoming benefit.

Evening brought scrubbing and baseball card chat at another friend's soon-to-be-vacated apartment, and later a birthday party filled with an energetic, sometimes frenetic melange of dancers and old souls. A white-bearded meditator asked me what was stopping me from opening up my heart. I knew. But for a moment, I couldn't speak.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Sunday, April 3, 2011

The heavy

This guy I know asks me all sorts of interesting questions.
If all your friends were in a room together, what would they all say about you? ~ Do you have anyone you can talk to about more than surface things? ~ What are you like in real life?
Incisive questions. Deep. Shrink-like, no?
Well okay, the guy's my shrink. So that part makes sense.
Anyway. It's good to be asked such questions. I think about them long after our appointments.
I don't know what my friends would say about me, honestly. I'm not sure what I'm like in real life, whatever that is. And while there are a lot of silly conversations going on (in a battle between a unicorn and Pegasus, who would win?), there are deep ones, too. What we're doing to improve ourselves. Creative snafus. The fleeting nature of happiness. Religion, alcoholism, the future, cancer, longing.
The stuff of French films and the very best music.

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