(Photo found on Public Domain Archive, source public domain images)
Thursday, April 30, 2015
My mom is a big music girl. She taught me the classics and not so classics. She danced and sang and still does. She's got music style.
Friday, April 24, 2015
I was an artsy student in college (but don't think I was cool or anything because I wasn't). I had paint under my nails and holey overalls and a constant faraway look on my face. After parties, I'd study my coursebook to plan out all the amazing classes I could take. Then in my less than sober state, I'd plan semester after semester. Which was why I ended up taking classes like History of India and Artificial Intelligence (it had a seriously cool title).
In the mess of liberal arts classes that would in no way prepare me for the real world, I discovered poetry. I don't write poetry now, maybe because I don't drink anymore. I plan to start drinking. It's on the list of things to do, I just haven't gotten around to it yet. But back then with a glass of wine I'd climb out my older than dirt living room window onto the older than snot roof and write (and drink...just a tiny bit, honest).
I was inspired and a little broken. I'd lived enough to see too much but not long enough to move on. Maybe it's the artist way, to hold on to what cuts us, to hold on so we can give it away one day in a magical way. I'm not broken anymore. Not healed either. I'm holding on just long enough to find the world my story fits into so it's not my story anymore because I'm finally ready to let it go. I think that's good.
(By Paul Mannix (Flamingos flying, Lake Nakuru National Park, Kenya) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons)
On another note, check out those freaking flying flamingos!
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Monday, March 30, 2015
I saw a glimpse of myself the other day, my old/new self post a dozen heartaches and many soul remodels. All because of a vanilla cupcake with yellow frosting and a plastic bunny ring too small for my knuckly fingers. A friend once told me she loved my hands. "You have artist hands." I kept that in my vault of good words. So this cupcake, it made me lightheaded with glee. I'm like that. I sat there at work on a chair that I could swear swiveled, but I think that was just me bouncing in my seat and I held my stomach with one hand and said with the biggest smile and song in my heart, "I love cupcakes. I'm so happy!" The room erupted in laughter. I continued to bounce. It was so good.
"By Nadia Khattab (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons"
Thursday, March 19, 2015
I surfed under a pink moon once long ago. I was a terrible surfer, barely knew the etiquette, kept falling off the board because that first second you pop up and land on a surface pushed by the warm Pacific you bounce, or I bounce. It wasn't my board or ride to the beach or even my idea. Midnight surfing under a full moon? Still, I was giddy. A couple times early on I thought about how turtle-like I looked for hungry sharks, then my eyes found the moon, huge and pink and so close I lost my breath. It was a pure moment, salt water dripping from my hair, goosebumps traveling my body, laughter all around me because my friends were crazy, the kind of crazy that plan a midnight surfing trip. It was a moment when the world stretched forward and stood all around you, not so out of reach, not so unattainable. That's it. It's that moment when you feel like you can take on the world. It was so good.
"By Rennett Stowe from USA (Pink Moon Uploaded by russavia) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons"
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Give Into Me from the movie Country Strong is so the book The Gamble by Kristen Ashley. I don't want to say anything about the book because I'm buddy reading it with Brandee only I accidentally read it before her. I'm a bad buddy, but awesome book and song, right?
Thursday, February 26, 2015
(painting by Paul Signac [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons)
I used to have a house, cute as can be. I looked at it from every angle, drew pictures of it with additions that would make it dreamy, perfect. Home. I had a neighbor who loved his yard in an intense, brooding way. One day I was out mowing the lawn with one of those push mowers. A shitty old one with dull blades and a handle that kept popping off. He walked up to me, "Robyn, what are you doing?" In these few words I understood. Why have you painted flowers on the front of your garage (because I did this) and planted a ridiculous Eucalyptus tree next to your spruce that we all wanted you to take out in the first place? What is up with the all the chimes and yard doodads? And what on earth are you doing with that ridiculous mower? It doesn't edge your lawn or cleanly bag your cut grass.
I loved roses so I planted a bunch of them. Turned out I hate roses. They poke you and scratch you and judge your lack of grace when pruning. I removed them (during wintertime) and gave them to my mother. I loved trees so I planted as many trees as our yard could handle. I quickly discovered why our house was barely damaged during our last big earthquake (back in 2001). Rock. We were built on ground that just wouldn't budge. Did that stop me? Nope. I drew pictures, went to the garden place, bought way too many plants.
I painted the interior. Every room. Annoying colors too because when you're in search of capturing a feeling, you should not go out paint shopping. I organized and planned and organized again.
And it was never enough. I couldn't find that feeling of home. I'm not sure why. When we search and compare the real word to dreams we've had since we were kids, can we ever find that thing? Can we remake our world into what we see in our heads?
I'll have a house again one day and I probably will paint flowers on the garage. I'd love another push mower, one of those fancy ones where the handles do not pop off. I'll plant tons of trees because man I love trees. I'll steer clear of roses because they suck. But I'll enjoy it. Maybe even give the walls a pat for rocking the planet because home is you in a place that makes you smile.