One a scale from one to on… I reckon it’s on, blog family.
Last night as part of “Operation: get it together” I decided to pull out the remains of what I shipped from Australia. This means that I opened the second box sent by sea, two of two.
I’ve mentioned in the past how managing my work isn’t my strongest quality. Love spilling words, scowl over editing.
Never the less. As I flipped through the ten full writing books that popped out of the cardboard treasure chest I packed five months ago… I squealed.
While I’ve been all about novel rants lately, I’ve forgotten how many other projects that remain untyped. I spend enough time clacking keys – I quite value my time with ink.
Something worth adding to the equation, is that for many years I lived with someone who literally paid no mind to the volumes of inky pages lining the shelves of various abodes other than to comment, “Can you put those away?” So without saying to myself, “But… maybe I should, I don’t know, use some of this content?” Away they went.
I’ve made it through four books so far. In addition to pages of unpublished poetry, I have discovered thousands of words that can be spun into a collection of new projects and present projects.
While I will naturally continue to focus on “the novel”, coming across so many syllables I had forgotten about is teaching me not only about different directions to weave my words – it’s reminding me why I had to leave Australia, at least temporarily.
I’m in Connecticut for the long weekend, my favorite place to work. So on that note… back to it!
Today I welcomed 2012 with many beautiful moments. Here are six:
I wish all of you a delicious 2012 with more goodies than your bellies can stuff!
And also dancing. Dancing is important. x
Roughly six months ago someone who I love very much, Andy, passed away suddenly. A few days ago, another High School companion, Bill, took his own life.
I went to the funeral today.
While I love everyone unconditionally (even my ex and the fake broad he’s banging), there are very few people who I interact with in a “friendship” sense. The ones that do fill that space stick.
The combination of me being a gypsy and my mother being somewhat temperamental, most of the history from my younger years was thrown away long ago. I don’t have trinkets from my childhood or boxes of pieces from years gone by.
I do however, have a photo book. As soon as I learned of Bill’s passing, I opened my photo book to a picture of the two of us in the High School courtyard, arms around each other.
I hope the rest of our cult will join me sending all of the love you can muster to all of the loved ones Bill leaves behind – because that’s who ends up suffering. While I had not interacted with my friend for too many years, there are very few people from my teens who I even choose to acknowledge.
Losing two of these people in six months has me twisted in an ineffable sense of surreal. It’s re-educating me about what matters. Love to you and yours Bill. I know how hard this planet is, I am sorry it managed to steal you away from us.
Namaste Blog Tribe
This is an amazing time in my life. When I fired up this page, let me tell you – I didn’t see any of it coming.
Since we’ve all been chatting from back in 2009, I’ve mentioned quite a bit about my family here in the states (and our blog family) and I’ve also touched on spirituality, a tiny bit.
Everyone has pieces that make them. These are mine. My teenage years were the worst time in my life, because I had to accept that my imaginary friends weren’t imaginary – they were my spirit guides who I interact with freely on a daily basis. Once I accepted this, I started doing readings for people – helping as many as I could with whatever it is that I do.
Then I moved to Australia because I thought I was around someone on the same page. In hindsight, I see it was just a test. We all get those. As much as it may sound cliche, what I just came out of made me stronger than I’ve been this life.
There are two things in this life I know I can depend on to keep me alive: my blood tribe and my spirituality.
I believe everything is pre-destined, I believe we write our life before we live it every time. Sometimes this isn’t easy to deal with, particularly during times of getting beat on.
There are fourteen people in my immediate family here in the States, with two more babies coming in April. I spent the day yesterday at a parade with a pile of these people including the latest addition. She wasn’t here yet the last time I made it to the parade.
I spent so many years in Australia trying to understand why I was getting abused, I forgot what was back here.
And the words just keep flowing.