The Journey Is The Story

 

Photo on 2016-05-31 at 10.30 AM #2

AATAMAA     the authentic self – something to remember when I practice my yoga.

Reading others comments and blogs I am reminded of how important our journey is.
A writer recently wrote of the importance of us commenting on our own lives when reading of others. I hope I remembered that correctly. It may be a that notion that published works are more important then those that are self published. Not so.
At least in my opinion.
I personally have found more connection to common folk like us who blog of our situation or lives out of desperation, sadness and need.  When B got ill I took books out from the library daily to try and found some common ground where I would feel less alone. I did not find any. Everything must have been edited out by professionals I don’t know. It was the blogs where I found common ground. Those poems, those desperate rants that come only in the middle of the night when the world for the most part is sleeping. But we are not are we? That Midnight Madness I call it.

Photo on 2016-05-31 at 8.45 AM

When arms come out of the ground and try and hold on to you
those headlights that keep coming in your direction but your glued to the black thick road
those times when everyone is speaking yet all you can hear is water rumblings
remember all those long days in the i.c.u
when holding his hand feels like the best thing ever because he is able to sleep
those days that turn into weeks and months and you feel at home
sleeping on a chair after eating a egg sandwich
that has been brought to you by the night nurse
for she understands the love
she understands that nothing will tear you from his side

These are the stories written from tears that have permanently disfigured our faces
how can one write about such things  if they have to be edited out
its the blog people that speak from their hearts
they have nothing to lose and everything to gain for they can for five minutes
put it all on the screen and hit publish
its here that we can somehow find a common ground

The Journey is Our Story

Photo on 2016-05-31 at 8.44 AM

With heavy feet we try everyday to create a new life
chalkboards with daily notes
reminders so we don’t drift
lists not of desperate importance
just important enough to focus
so at the end of the day we can
hopefully tick one or two items off the list

Post- loss feels like having to learn how to walk and speak and eat all over again
there are day when saying the word Breathe over and over makes perfect sense
your mind and body has to have time to heal all the wounds that can’t be seen.

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I Will Cry. I Have Cried.

Photo on 2016-05-28 at 4.28 PM

Paint on her fingers
the colour of the evening sky
if we look behind the eyes
we might see something different
something so sweet and fragile and full of love

‘a little black and white moth flutters to my finger then leaves’

stars on her toes will grant her entrance to the mad hatters tea
she will shine and fly and dance upon the sky

‘I smell the violet lilacs so large and full of beauty’
gifted memories stay with me
I will remember and I will adore
for no one leaves us forever

‘little black moth has come back again’
oh this time she brought a friend
a humming bird with singing wings

paint on her fingers
stars on her toes

may 29  2016Photo on 2016-05-28 at 4.27 PM #4

So here we are, again. Another friend has died of cancer. I do however feel strongly that this is the last one for a long time . There will be no more deaths near me for a long time. Do you hear that? Hello I’m talking to you. NO MORE DEATHS.

I  just wrote a long piece mostly ranting and complaining. I know I should not so I have deleted it all. I leave you with this thought.

I just feel that when a person dies my god they deserve some tears and sadness.

That’s it simple as it may seem, I want to see tears. Big mother Fucking Tears. Surely a life is worth that.

 

Some Days Are Hard

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Last night the sky exploded! I was stepping past the door and suddenly there was this intense feeling that drew me to look over. I could only imagine such colours on my palette
for a painting. Truthfully you just have to sit and watch it, well with your iPhone in hand that is.
The sky changes so quickly that it does make you just adore it and all its wonder.
My creative juices flew and I settled down for the night. Mind you this is all about 6pm. When you have no reason to be up there is no reason to not go to bed.

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The movie I watched was Oh I can’t remember the title. Its a movie about the love of John Keats and Fanny Brawne. The actors are so well cast that you really do melt into their characters. Then again I am a sucker and totally addicted to tortured romances.
Then the morning came and here I am wondering if I will ever, in this life get past this particular part. I work at it every day. Yesterday I finished repainting the window the final white colour. Was that really all I did? My god!! Everything takes so much time. To go to the hardware store and look for cheap paint [ there is none ] then read so many tables for glue for some tiles that need re-glueing and then the little rib of wood to replace rotten parts on the windows.
Ok I know where the day went. I replaced the rotten bits then applied masking tape then and only then did I apply the two coats of white paint. Did I mention there was a great mini downpour in the middle of all this? It was wonderful.

 

So that was it! I don’t feel any closer to rolling the paint on the walls. No one understands why I am even attempting to do this work. Most say Get rid of it! Sell it as is! Move on!
None of these people understand or try and remember that this is my home. Where I lived most of my life. It is a sense of purpose to get it looking as good as my budget can stretch. I owe it to B for all his work here as well. Don’t they get that?
So many of you may be in this situation where you are trying to move on but on a beggars budget. I can’t even say the word budget for that in it self means that you have a lump somewhere. DSAA
By doing all this work well as much as I can myself …. I can’t even remember what I was going to say. I am trying not to be so dam negative ….. oh yes.. All of this work is making me think about my idea of buying a small place I can fix in Newfoundland.
CAN I?
WILL I BE ABLE TO?
As all my friends keep telling me. Your getting older now. Well for goodness sake why don’t I just pack it in right now? Why not just give everything to the grandkids and pack one suitcase one coat one pair of boots and lots of slippers. I mean lots of slippers and house coats that way I never have to get dressed. I’ll check into one of those seniors places for 300. per month plus utilities. Forget getting a pet maybe just those stuffed ones that everyone old seems to get tons of. Am I upset? I suppose I am. You will get upset too. when you realize that because your a widow everyone around you will start thinking for you and making your decisions. I remember when B was in the home, everyone would speak to me instead of him. Most of the time they would ignore him. That really hurts for him and for me. He was my life my purpose my goal. We were intertwined and now the vines that pulsed from his heart and are intermingled with me are dead and dry, but they don’t fall off. They shrink to a point and then just stay there. Only if you cut and pull and tear will they be gone from your vines.
How do we move on?
How do we find that purpose in our lives again?
Sorry I am just having a bad day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slow Seems To Be My Only Speed

Photo on 2016-05-25 at 9.19 AM #3

I have been having my challenges this month. From no water to replacing pump to re-soidering 10+ copper pipes need I go On? Here it is anyway. Pump worked for half an hour. Now I have a new tank and the well seems to have plenty of water for me, still I am cautious with this fact. I have been working the reflecting pools. This has been a good way for me to realize how much out of shape I have become. I persevere every day I continue like a blind fool I get up and start again. By the end of these days I have a shower, wash my daily clothes as I do this by lying them in the tub as I wash then when I’m done I scrub them and wring them out finishing with hanging on the country clothes line. Good ay?

The pools or ponds are beginning to take shape. I do have moments where I get very angry for my family not even asking but that soon fades for I would not want them here. It would be a whirlwind of telling me all the wrong things I am doing etc. They don’t have respect for my life with B and well without as well. The just don’t understand why I will not rent a room in the city and get old quietly. There is still some anger lingering in me, yes?

Photo on 2016-05-27 at 8.11 AM #2

Yesterday I made headways for I scraped all the old flacking paint off the west studio windows and played on the first layer of latex. I also restrung the grape vine whew I also spilled an entire new box of 3/4″ finishing nails on my path. …… No I did not loose it, I did not whimper, I just kept going waiting till I was so tired that it was a pleasure sitting on the ground picking up all  those tiny nails. I have seen a beautiful humming bird come three days in a row!!! What a pleasure that was.
Between you and me, I did have a small melt down. It was this process of the rhyme of
The old lady and the fly, remember? but mine is something like this.

There was an old lady who wanted to move, I don’t know why she wanted to move. She wanted to move to be near the ocean, she wanted the ocean to follow her heart, she wanted her heart to heal with the breeze . I don’t know why she needed the breeze. She needed the breeze  to heal her heart, she needed her heart to feel her passion, she needed her passion to pack her container, she needed her container to empty her studio, she needed her studio to sell the house, she needed the sale to buy a new house, she needed her house to be by the sea, she needed the sea to heal her heart. That is why she is selling her house So she wouldn’t die…

This rhyme just stayed with me yesterday because everything is connected to the other thing etc etc. So, to just work on one thing till the end just can’t be done at least with only me doing these things.

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Well this might be it for today. I have finished my breakfast at the local and I am now fully charged to go and buy a quart of white paint for the second coat on my windows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Days When You Wonder If Your Sane

Possibly too much time spent alone can get you drifting into strange areas. If your an artist well then you may be accustom.

Its the aloneness of yourself.

You can’t spend time with people all the time especially if your not that attracted to company. Its that single person’s company that you miss. The one person that got you. The person with whom you did not have to explain things and that person who understood being alone.
Some people try and help but I don’t think anyone can help us at this point. I still feel that I have to walk this path for a reason. That there is something I might have to learn about myself in order to more forward. God is it this hard for others?  I know I will never want another relationship for this one has taken so much out of me. To have been woven together for so long. Our veins pumping the same blood to the same organs keeping us alive. Then one day each one has been severed leaving you to bleed out. Perhaps all this time is a process of cauterizing each and every vein so we can continue to live.

Lately I have been attempting to get our place up for sale. That is a job I tell you.

Things keep going wrong. I will not let myself get frustrated and angry because I just haven’t got it in me anymore. My emotions are tired. I have taken to writing dialogue as if I were speaking to B. Truthfully its kind of nice writing them. You may want to try it for fun and if it works, keep doing it. I have also included some fun photo essays I am working on to shake my brain up a bit.

THE difference in dealing with  things when your alone is that there is no one to say,
Hell I don’t know .What do you think?
Did you try the things ma jig?
Ya//
What about that?…
Ya…
Was there any pressure?
No..
Was the pump running long?
Don’t Know.
Did you get to make the coffee?
No.
Dam!
When can you call the plumber?
I was going to wait till 8am.
Call the Fu… now!
Na you have to be nice. the kid was very nice.
Ya but yo still don’t have water>
I know but hay its 8 I’ll try now.
Ok let me know.So what did the plumber say?

Well I thought I would be getting his answering machine, instead he answered but he was at his cottage.
Well thats good did he come over?
No.. you can’t as someone to come home from the cottage to fix your tank!
Well why not?
Because I just would not feel right about it. He did tell me to prime it again and to check if there was a leak anywhere or if the well went dry.
That’s a stupid thing to as a client to do. I would never leave someone hanging with no water on the long weekend.
Well artists are more concerned with others then the trades.
So did you prime the pump?
No. I did lift the concrete lid and confirmed that the well was full nearly to the top.
So what are you doing?
I first wanted to retreat like a frightened fox but then I decided that the city was not a place I wanted to spend the weekend. I could not pounce on my friends again so I decided F”Kit I will go back to the cottage mode that ai was in before I had water.
I don’t want to constantly bore people with all this drama.
Well its not as if your creating the drama!
I know but everyone has their own drama to deal with.
So??? what you doing?
Well I did kind of melt back into bed like I was clued down from head to toe. A good part of the glue seeping its way into my brain allowing me to watch the little dvd screen with open deer kind of eyes with no brain activity.
I don’t know how you can do that. It would drive me crazy. I would have to be doing something.
Ya well that’s you. I looked at everything I have been wanting to do.
I pulled wet weeds from three reflecting pools causing my ass cheeks to ache. Without water. I trying to organize the kitchen a bit with boiled water and took it as far as I could. I don’t want to start painting the container for it would require good real water to wash afterwards. I can’t start my waxes for the dust in the studio is too much without running water to wash things and myself., Suffice to say. I will watch dvd’s and eat oranges.
No wonder you don’t get anywhere! You just don’t have what it takes to be a successful artist.
Well to hell with you.
Right back at you.
Talk to you tomorrow?
Ya sure.

OR I COULD JUST BE LOOSING IT HEHEHEH

As Long as We Continue To Wake Up In The Morning …..We Are Doing Just Fine.

Time To Call For Reinforcements

The idea that you can do everything yourself can at times go too far. I have been trying to do plumbing with a friend and we did get the new pump installed [ i did find out that we did not wire it to the correct voltage :/] Then it was a very very long day of priming the hoes that goes across the yard and down the hill to the spring well I have.  There were moments that we just laughed because we in all our glory started to fill this 2″black pipe only to hear big gushes of water pouring out the other end. heheh We had primed a spare pipe that went nowhere. Now you have to laugh at this don’t you?

What continued to happen next was not so uplifting and full of joy. One by one a leak would appear and we would cut it out and soldier the two sections together with a sleeve  that is a cooler type thing that is slightly bigger then the copper pipe. It was as if we were being giving time to fix one at a time. Oh yes the gods were looking out for us. [NOT]  Still my tenant is very patient and has a good disposition. If that were B years ago you could probably hear his swearing on to the next concession. By 8pm at night we were done 17  splits in the copper pipes EXHAUSTING!!.

When he left I turned the tap on to wash some dishes and my heart kind of sank as the pressure got less pressure of water and more pressure of me..  Well I thought I flipped the breaker for the pump and grabbed my suitcase then locked the house up and sat in my van. There I took a deep breath and texted  my friends: I said

With bones aching and spirits bruised. I leave this house of waterless wonder. Hours did we pet her and treat her with love and care only to now have water but new expensive pump faked. Alas I ride now on my chariot and  drive off to lotus e land where the Chicago will lover no matter. See you in an hour. Now as I copied this from my text I noticed how spellcheck can really crate strange messages. Chicago? I don’t know how that one came about.

Four days later I am back and called a plumber to fix up all the loose ends.  While this was being done by a young man with great skill I trenched the reflecting pool at the front of the house. Now am am going to go buy three gallons of white tremclad, paint and rollers so I can paint my shipping container. I thought I would give the entire thing a white base coat then possibly add doors and windows [painted on that is] so when I move to Newfoundland it will look like another house from the distance. Smart ay. I will post photos later but for now.

Have a very happy Victoria day weekend to all Canadians.  I might buy myself some hanging plants.

Its my deceased husband’s birthday on monday the 23. I will raise a glass to him.

 

Don’t Forget Those Days

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grey skies magnify
travellers multiply
rows of soldiers pass on by
grey clouds in the sky

no traffic lights
deters their flight
grey clouds at night

don’t lie
walk a straight line
linger not behind
grey clouds in the sky

travel with great ease
over lands and seas
never bend at your knees
spirits touch the chimes that sing
pulling each and every string
Sing
Cry
Never ever lie
clouds don’t die
grey clouds in the sky
never ever lie

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‘my letter to a mom.’

Waiting is a very hard thing to do. You are torn, ripped apart like a wet piece of paper. You want it over. You can’t do another day.  You can’t say your peace one more time. Your tired. You have no energy left.
Then the eyes open  and you see all the love that still grows. All the love that is still alive! You want nothing more then to stretch every second. To see it become transparent till it becomes the sky the air.  There is no saying goodby. For death is final. Death puts the period at the end of a sentence. Death is the final word. Death goes where we can’t. Death is the ticket you get when you win or your number is up. I don’t know if its good or bad. I do know that I chose to believe its a reward. How can it be anything but. Life is not easy. Life is complicated. Life is hard. Life is lonely. Life is given. What we do with it comes to circumstances. Are we smart? Are we lucky? Are we fools?

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Death and waiting for it makes you question everything. Don’t let all those days questioning fade as the days continue. After you have caught up on your sleep. After all the paperwork is done. After you have cleared all the closets. Don’t forget those days.

They are meant to change you. To give you a reprieve. Don’t slide back into being a blob that works to pay for a life you really don’t want. Don’t forget those days.

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