Posts Tagged: ‘puppies’

perspective. training.

April 9, 2020 Posted by the writer

Namaste blahg tribe

To keep things in perspective, I thought it worth bringing light today to the fact that I have no family on my favourite continent. And three of my five friends are in New York City.

In 2002 I was here for a wonderful love that lasted until it was finished which is when I started this webpage, to mend my broken heart.

I’ve literally been divorced three times since post number one, let that seep in.

As a little girl in the 80’s with four big sisters, everything was boys and love. I wanted all of that. Thought I had it for a minute, but what I had was an interesting phase of spiritual progression which concluded when my then partner ceased progressing.

I wrote three poetry books about it back then. I never think of him anymore.

I used to thrive on co-dependency. Not because I ever felt like I needed anyone, it was just really nice believing someone was there.

I’ve ranted over the years about my spiritual practice, how my ingrained belief since birth is the blunt understanding that we exist as one making it impossible to therefore be alone.

My heart extends to anyone who is sick right now, lost a loved one or entangled in quarantine chaos. My life hasn’t actually changed much to date. Don’t get me wrong, I understand this virus means nothing will ever be the same – but at the moment, I’m living pretty regularly.

Training a seven week old puppy when you have a 13 year old and 8 year old dog is real talk. I’m happy to be full-time home because I wouldn’t be able to give any of them the time and attention to adjust if I was, say, running around midtown Manhattan hustling words.

All of that word hustling brought me back home and I couldn’t be happier. I like to think the light of happiness can outshine any level of darkness that splats across our canvas.

So on that note, I’ll keep doing my thing. Meditating, manifesting, and most importantly — staying mindful. Oh, and writing.

… always writing. Never get it twisted. x o x

two weeks later… pascal

April 7, 2020 Posted by the writer

So my mini “corona chronicles” rant didn’t get too far. I reckon most of us are hearing too much about the shit. We’re all living it now, so ranting seems frivolous.

I’ve spent the last two weeks in regular contact with my New York City people and continue to connect with them daily. What happened is a disgrace, dooming and glooming over it here won’t help me or anyone else. I can only imagine what one of my favourite boyfriends from Italy must be going through.

It’s completely ironic that prior to the world having to jump into quarantine mode I had already isolated myself. Rather than let global chaos infringe on us by what I believe is a manmade virus and product of biological warfare; I travelled north to the Sunshine Coast to pick up the newest addition to my family.

His name is Pascal in honour of Easter approaching. He was originally coming home on Good Friday, but since no one is really supposed to be on the roads, I picked him up a week early and was back to my quarters by 10am.

In addition to introducing Pascal to the puppies, I’ve been spending a lot of time in my garden. Passion fruit are going crazy and I’ve finally started a little veggie patch.

I don’t plan on being in this house any longer than 12 months (that would be commitment for these gypsy toes); so I’m making a point to enjoy my lovely yard and beautiful lawn in the meantime.

I hope you’re all safe. I suggest staying inside. Perhaps, consider taking up writing for the next few months… it’s always seemed to work for me.

corona chronicles (2)

March 24, 2020 Posted by the writer

Today is Piggles birthday!

People keep getting sick and I’m worried about my parents back in Connecticut. I’m super happy I randomly jumped a plane to Manhattan in January. The city and those souls stay on my mind.

I started contemplating my next poetry collection. Volume Four will be beautiful. It’s a lot of years to pack in.

People in Australia are nervous and cautious; loving and wonderful; going through the motions like all of us are.

I took photos of flowers today and walked beside the lake. I’m currently making my mother’s baked mac n cheese recipe and continuing on with my plans of land and some seeds.

I tiktoked earlier today and painted. I weeded a garden and had a glass of wine.

I know something is ‘scary’ about these times but I don’t feel it. I feel like everything is occurring perfectly. I am grieving who has left as a cause of the human sickness sweeping us all, but I’m equally excited about what it brings every day.

We celebrated Lily’s birthday in the park earlier, with my next door neighbour after, and with feasts in between. 13 years she turned today.

Another puppy is going to be joining us in about two weeks. His name is Pascal… buckle up blahg tribe. x

solitude

January 7, 2020 Posted by the writer

I always say I’m all one way, or all the other.

I did eight years in midtown Manhattan because I wanted to be in it. I needed to be around humans, I wanted the energy of the 24-hour buzz. I was heart broken and lost.

I’ve been back in Australia just over 18 months. It’s not easy doing everything alone. While I can look back on my first marriage and clearly identify why it was utterly fucked, I got really used to being with someone.

I don’t think I’ll ever completely adjust to being by myself. But I always go where my heart speaks to. Australia is my heart. It has been since I first arrived in 2002.

Every morning when the light wakes me up, I go straight to the beach. It’s a 10-minute scoot down the street.

I’m in between jobs, once again. The career I built in Manhattan was unexpected and I feel like the word phenomenal is an understatement.

For the past two months I’ve been simmering. After a decade of grinding whether it was spinning a blahg empire or making in excess of 200K a year at one point (writing, always and only writing…) I reached a point where I knew I had to stop.

As an artist, the emotional tax of relationships is real shit. I keep about five people close, in my pocket close. When two of my pocket tribe took their own lives eight years ago… I never reformed as the person I was.

I believe when it’s said we live like five or six lives in a lifetime. I’m probably embarking on number four at this stage. I’ve got a few freelance gigs that will hopefully give me dollars to get by.

Lily is about to be 13 years old. That’s a lot of dog years. All I want to do at the moment is be with her and Fronkles. I definitely like dogs better than people as a general rule.

I’m putting myself back together after personal things not meant to be slung on the web. However I must say, I’m elated to see how many of you popped up when I came back to this corner again.

I’m making it a priority to check in every day again. Slowly things will unravel and a natural catch up will ensue.

I started this page because I was having a really difficult time in my personal life. I’m back for the same reason. I consider this site a fluid art project and love you all for checking in.

salt water. poetry processing.

January 19, 2019 Posted by the writer

My unplugged-ness lusciously carries on. I’ve been considering my options to get a typewriter. While I always prefer writing by hand, I’ve been having daydreams about old school clacks and inky ribbons.

My husband is in Spain. While I’m waiting for him to return, I’ve been in the water. Mainly salt water. I’ve also been in the pool a few hours a day. My favorite times are at night, floating on a raft beneath a waxing moon.

My thoughts are poetry, that’s how I assess my health. When I’m at my best, I literally think in poems. Avoiding the internet and glowing screens naturally nourishes this process.

I’d like to produce a new poetry book. After purging three publications in three years, I’ve kept my work between leather bound covers spilt in blue gel ink.

I’ll probably get around to this once we’re on the island…

Saying I feel relaxed or centered are both ultimate understatements. I am beyond words. I am finally back to floating.

After realizing my first husband was evil, I had the most amazing period of proving how I never needed him in the first place. As a hopeless romantic, I adore needing my current husband now and completely forever.

… the real one.

As he so eloquently stated to me earlier today:

No puedo estar sin ti…

… and I curled my toes and thought in poetry.

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    FollowMeToNYC is a creative processing ground which expresses individual ideas that often change with the tides. Naturally, these ideas do not reflect those of any of my employers, or anyone else you might see me wandering down the street with one day.
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