Music the Dwayne Morgan cd arrived... the guy's obviously black het, but the words are just right on... he's go
Bookin Jitterbug Perfume our heros get run out of town because they dont age. hmmm just cant win.
Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing
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Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 1:36 a.m.
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
Suicide Grief Letters, Infertility Blues and War Photos
No wonder I hang with other people... I just came back from L'Aigle Noir where I hung out with Knife. She's fun. She might get me to use my straightrazor on her... at first she thought head, now she's thinking maybe legs... I took it tonight and she thought it was just beautiful, which of course it is.
I was feeling fine and good. And now that i am back home feeling sad and morose and melancholy. Thinking of writing a page about being infertile. I just read someone' sdiaryland entry about their new baby being 6 months old, and how fast it went, and thinking about when they were pregnant and thinking "i'll have a new baby soon". I like to read about people's kids, but then it clicks that i have no kids, and there is no one growing up and learning in my household except me. And i feel like a stalled adolescent... no, someone stalled in their early 20s except i get older and learn more things and have more experiences. And old 25 yr old. And other times i feel like a premature retired lady... living at home after my children have left, the husband has moved away or died... and i am in spinsterhood with my cats and dog, my music and my hobbies. What happened to the middle of my life. The part where I settle down with someone, learn to live in a relationship, develop long-term partner skills, can build together because we have finished with the "getting to know each other" newby phase. The part where we buy a house, and plan a business, buy a cottage, design things together, have projects, go back to school, support each other, give each other feedback. In short a real relationship.
And the part where we decide to have a family. Where we are responsible for more than ourselves. Teaching little ones how to be themselves, be part of a community. Where we are responsable and stable and there for someone else. Where we become part of something bigger than individual, bigger than couple. Taking the kids to daycare. Being involved in class projects and their friends. In community institutions like schools and sports programs. Where we are interested in quality of life for the generations to come. Where we look at our kids and think "we've done a good job" in partnership.
How did i go straight from crazy kid finding herself to lonely spinster finding herself?? What happened to the middle?? I am not ready for a life with no middle. Like two slices of bread with nothing in the middle. Like the appetizer and the dessert with no entr�e. I am tired of seeing 29yr olds with partners and three kids and homes and plans. I feel so anchorless sometimes.
Wow. so cheery. And before that, earlier this evening, I was thinking of ob and writing her or calling her. So missing her. But mostly scared that she is not ok. That she will do herself in like my brother. I am less afraid for myself... i reach out. I dont isolate and self-medicate with chemicals. Then i thought i'd look for more quotes for my brother's webpage... I found a website where individuals write about their grief of someone dying, whoever it is... children, friends, lovers, family... It is called "A Place to Honor Grief"... and i was reading stories written by people whose loved ones, esp brothers and sisters, committed suicide. What a way to cry. Poor doggy doesnt like when i cry. :(
On a cheerier note... I discovered a new photographer (new for me)... she is a war photographer born in 1945. She seems to be known in French and Spanish circles, and her name is Christine Spengler... she does beautiful black and white pictures of the human tragedy of war. There was an article about her, and two books she has out, in La Presse. The books are called �Ann�es de guerre� and �Vierges et toreros�; in English "Years of War" and "Virgins and Bullfighters" I believe. I will look for them in the french stores here. Beautiful pictures. Incredibly, she fits into the topics for today, since she started taking war photos after her brother committed suicide when she was 28. Aagh!
Also, talked with D and he just came back from a straw bale building workshop in Ontario... sounds amazing. I imagine building outside, using my body. Making something ecologically sound. It was at a place called Everdale. The workshops arent that expensive. Maybe I can go next year. Sometimes i wish i lived more by my ideals.
Organic. Sustainable energy. Less material consumption. Instead I now own a 5plex. I bought a washer and dryer. I do drawings for books that use up tons of ressources. I dunno. Thinking about what Fish wrote on her tattooing website... about how the human body is such a great canvas. And it is totally environmentally friendly. No use of paper. The person will not lose it and buy another one. It is biodegradable at the end. Doesnt add useless but beautiful objects to the environment. I wished I liked tattoos more, because it makes sense. But I like paper. I like books. I like canvas and clay. I would probably love to draw on people. But i am not that crazy about tattoos in that I think i like bodies better without them.
Well, I am going to work a little while. Funny girl 2:13 am and she thinks she should work a little. Oh, the other night i read in bed with hookah and butterscotch schnapps, and i think i've figured out how to blow smoke rings. So fun. I miss ob. I miss ob. I suppose one day i'll miss less. And one day see someone else. But now i miss ob.
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previous meanderings - future past
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009
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