turning thistledown laughter

keep art alive; art by kelly haigh

"when the bow broke, in pieces we fell.

we would scream and shout,

almost anything,

but the point is we fell dear.

there will be no more wishlessness,

there may be some doubt,

no new day without;

best that we say farewell here."

this year, i still cannot seem to get a real feeling for it. there has been a lot of sadness and loss around me lately. is it because of the age i am at, or is it something more? that said, i feel as if i am finally getting a hold of who i am, and finding that i am tired of people being so transient in my life. coming and going as if i am just a stop gap, or some place to only temporarily land.

perhaps it is my ever-battle with insecurity, but it always hurts a bit to realize that some of the people you love think poorly of you, and of your choices. yet, at the same time, i find myself growing into myself to a point where i do not think i care anymore if i am well-liked, or understood.

i get me, i get what i like and don't like, and most days that is good enough for me.

this song, it always reminds me of driving to san francisco.

innocent one ~ michael penn

reminds my heart what love can yield

keep art alive; art by kristin burns

"paper paper obsolete,
how will you reach out to me?
i thought you'd ask me not to leave."

with each breath we change, we move, we disrupt the day before. and tucked in all of that - somewhere - is the truth. perhaps we find it in the wet streets that slick and shine just after a hard rain. or maybe in the lyrics of a song, the way someone else's heart can mimic our own. or is it in the quiet moments, when there are no other voices, no other sound. in the silence we find blank sheets of paper, reams of it, enough to build a paper castle to hide away in. but what is it that we write on them? or do we leave them blank, abandoning want and wish and chance?

i had a random conversation with someone i never talk to. one of those people who exist in my working environment, but who i never connect with. she told me a story about crabs, and how they are caught. that they are all put into an open lidded container, over-flowing to the point that they almost spill over. and yet, not a single crab ever escapes over the edge. she said the reason is that each and every crab pinches on to each other, keeping each other connected, yet keeping one another stuck in the bin. i left the conversation confused, and a bit shook up. do i want to be a crab, or do i want to topple over the side?

lonely, lonely ~ feist

if you knew you could not fail

keep art alive; art by sarah joncas

i have been on a bit of a hiatus this past week due to the holidays, and a much needed vacation. i have also been gearing up for my 2008 plans for this space; setting up themes and schedules, thinking up writing prompts and ideas to help bring out words, compiling music mix playlists, and signing up for activities like blog 365. first days, especially new year’s day, have always been a big deal to me. i am a sucker for the fresh start, the clean slate, the do-over. this year, though, i would like to sort out a way to hold on to, and sustain, the kind of inspiration that first days’ gift to me. thus, the projects and goals that i am putting together for this space are an attempt at that; a way to keep my creativity flowing, my focus on, and some of those often fleeting goals consistently attainable.

a few days ago i was at the archlight with my husband and brother. we were there to see juno, and had arrived earlier than expected. we walked around the gift shop as a wasting time endeavor and ended up at this wall of magnets, where we stood side-by-side, sharing the ones that we each found witty, or outrageous. the wee shop is reminiscent of soap plant and wacko, favorite stores of mine that used to reside on melrose avenue, but have since relocated to the we are now way cooler silverlake. there were stacks of coffee table books, the kind that i covet and wish for in that someday sort of way, novelty items like the wash your sins away soap pack and a looks like expensive crystal but is really plastic vases. i wandered over to a spinning rack of greeting cards, the kind that are shaped in squares with quotes on them, and one in particular caught my eye. the message sprawled across it's paper square front has settled nicely into my psyche, and is asking to be my chosen mantra of 2008:

“what would you do if you knew you could not fail?”

with that in my mind i started to contemplate the coming year. and really, what would this time of year be like without a list of resolutions? (i should probably mention i am quite a sucker for lists, too).

so, in the spirit of ringing in the new, here are my, in no particular order, 2008 resolution round up:

1* write more. write about everything and anything; memories from my past, dreams for my future, anecdotes about my kids, reviews, fiction, and other random things.

2* work on rebuilding our music and film collection that we lost while living in chicago, replacing the old and adding the new.

3* keep to a budget and try to save money (for once) so that we hopefully never find ourselves in a situation where we have to sell off almost all of our belongings.

4* sort out a way to spend more time with my husband. plan things out, put them on the calendar and stick to them, at least once or twice a month. dating your spouse, or significant other, is just as (if not more) important when you have been together for years. it is easy to put this sort of thing in last place, especially if you work as much as i do, and have three children; but, just because it is easy to put off, does not mean it should be lowered in the priority list. a solid and well cared for marriage and/or relationship will spread out to the rest of one’s life, and help keep a good balance going; at least in my opinion.

5* read more, to myself, and to the kids. there are so many books i want to read, and so many i do not even know about that i want to read. i think it is time to dust off the library card, spend some time reading things that are not on a computer screen, and even doing some book trades with friends. as for the kids, they all love books as much as i do, i just need to take more time out to read together.

6* take more pictures. i am a horrible photographer with seriously no talent, at all. i am a small step away from my grandmother’s level of photographic skill who had her trademark thumb-shadow in every shot. they say the more you take the better you get. if that is the case i may want to seriously consider the photo 365 project, as well.

7* reinstate more sunday traditions: potlucks, homemade breakfasts and dinners, and something my grandparents did with me that i have not yet done with my own family: the sunday afternoon mini roadtrip. i love sundays.

8* eat better and treat my body better. the recent health scare that i am in the midst of dealing with is a wake up call, and for that i am thankful for the experience for the gift of perspective. i need to stick to a healthier diet, drink more water, and get outside and move more.

9* try yoga. i know with my level of stress and anxiety just the breathing techniques themselves would help me relax more. i took a class once, years ago, and i remember it was harder than i expected, and that that night i slept deeper than i had, possibly ever.

10* balance. it is one of those things that all the magazines say we should seek more of, that all those self-help gurus spout off about causing me to roll my eyes and break out the my snark and saracasm over. but, the last couple of months have been rough; the last few years, actually. and, i think i can finally recognize the need for some balance in my life. just some little things, really; more visits to the ocean (the ocean, she soothes me), more organization to hopefully make things more manageable, more one on one time with each of my kids, the previously mentioned dates with my husband, and some almost unheard of time for me.

whew!

there are some other random things i’ve thought about, like learning to cook chinese food, searching out any still existing drive-in movie theaters, finally eating at the formosa cafe, and visiting the getty; but, i think ten is enough to try and incorporate into my life. i know the fail rate of resolutions is high, and that setting myself up with too many goals is self-defeating; but i will honestly be happy if i can remember to try to do the things above, at least some of them, some of the time.

what are some of yours?

the pictures changing every moment

keep art alive; art by kelly vivanco

as a young girl i used to see my future as this vibrant, colorful, ever-changing gypsy-adventure. i did not expect to stay in one place for very long. i knew there would be music, dreams, my best friend at my side (or somewhat close by), and i would be writing something. back then i thought it to be plays or movies, ones that we would act in together, all my friends and pets and boys i had crushes on. this was before my dreams of being in a girl group, or my older goals of teaching and writing novels. i saw tomorrow made of the stuff of possibilities, of the unknown, and of a sky full of stars that would sometimes rain down and turn into the sea. maybe we would catch them, those falling sparkly things, and we would leave our wishes on them. we would use their glow to paint with, to write with, to sing with; and we would leave behind a legacy of lyrics and magic.

sometimes, when i squint my eyes just right, i realize that i was not so off with my visions. sometimes i realize most of my life is all of that, and more.

avalon ~ roxy music

she heard the melody rise and fade

keep art alive; art by stella im hultberg

fate is something that invades my thoughts in the very early hours of morning. everything is silent and still, nothing but the twists and turns of memory recall, and the faces that dance across the inside of each eyelid as you close them tight; one more hour, you think, one more moment to slip back into a dream. it is then that i wonder on things like chance and predestination. do we just stumble upon people, bumping into them randomly, sticking to the ones who we catch light off of? or, is there something that pushes us along, leads us to doorways and someday nicknames that a familiar set of eyes and a smile will gift us; someday. when our words spill out with similarity, and synchronicity, is it a chord of connection that we are just discovering, or is it because our paths were designed to eventually cross. the synapse gives off a spark that brings us closer, and it is something like deja vu, or the remnants of a dream. it is something close to a simple twist of fate, isn't it?

"they sat together in the park

as the evening sky grew dark,

she looked at him

and he felt a spark tingle to his bones.

'twas then he felt alone

and wished that he'd gone straight

and watched out for a simple twist of fate."

simple twist of fate ~ jeff tweedy

and all you can do is just watch me go

but when the palm trees bow their heads

no matter how cruel i've been

l.a., you always let me back in

the irony of who sent this to me is not lost on me, and i'm sure it means something more than the obvious, means we've both moved on. i'm not sure if forgiveness comes in yet, that is a tricky one sometimes, especially when there was so much disappointment. i was cruel, and i was misunderstood, and i learned so much. so, today i said thank you, because there are things i gained in the end, and in the middle, and at the start. the relationship will go down as one of the most confusing of my life. falling, or really playing at love, when you are so lost yourself is always a bad idea. but, we go on. we have both opened our hearts to love again. and yeah, this song is rather appropriate.

thanks, a. have a good life, and goodbye.

i love l.a. (acoustic) ~ rilo kily

i know it must be killing time

keep art alive ~ art by vania zouravliov

i haven't been writing much here since i'm underwater and fighting the current of nanowrimo right now, though i'm almost to the halfway mark, word count wise, which means i am ahead for a change. i think my past failures to finish this has taught me many things, and by keeping those hard lessons in mind i have freed up my typical creative obstacles that i sometimes think are more based in fear, then anything else.

i suppose i can turn that insight on myself, and the rest of my life, as well. when i sit and really think on it i've made so many mistakes along the way, and there are times when it freezes me, floods me, makes me feel like hiding under the blankets and never be seen again. recently i had a close friend end our friendship because she had grown impatient at my progress in my life, and was tired of standing by and watching me make the same mistakes over and again. it hurt, and i think i took it far more personally then i should have, but again, i am still learning.

the only timeline that honestly matters is the one that occurs. i can no more rush my own healing and growth then i can rush love, inspirations or the future. we all work at our own pace, we all have different bottoms to hit, we all have our thresholds for pain and suffering; and, we all have our own versions of bliss.

i wish i could sew happiness into a giant quilt, like those ones you see the sewing circles making, everyone adding their own patch of it. actually, maybe that is what i would wish even more; that everyone i know would bring in their own fives squares and add it to the bliss blanket. in the end it would be such a beautiful thing, full of flaws and inconsistancies, of course; dropped stitches here and there, some repeated patterns, but it would be different than anything ever seen before. then, when any of us have a bad day we can borrow it, wrap ourselves up in it, stay there until we can breathe again. some days there would be a few of us under there together, clinging and leaning a little on each other, and maybe sometimes we'd all meet under it just to check-in; just to be there together.

today my five would be:

my kids laughter

connecting music and visual art

music that makes me want to dance

fangirl crushes

coffee

what would you add?

abba & the bunnymen ~ go home productions

no hero in her sky

keep art alive; art by joshua petker

i am not sure when it began, or what started me believing that in love i had to give everything that i am in order to deserve to be loved back. not that i do not think that love should be about giving, but somewhere along the line there was a disconnect inside of me that transmitted this message that i was the one that needed to give, and give until i had nothing left, and that i should not expect to ever receive anything back. that love, for me, was about taking care of the other person's needs, wants, and desires; that if there did not exist this neverending list of needs to fulfill, and issues that needed my care and attention, that i was not needed, or i suppose deserving, of love.

for a girl who swore up and down that she would never be a mother i certainly spent even my formative years trying to mother the boys i chose to love. i look back at my past relationships and it is so glaringly obvious that i would come into their lives and slowly but surely become something they relied on, and unfortunately ended up taking for granted. i do believe it became such a part of who i am that it showed on my skin, on the way i put myself out into the world, and in the way i interracted because every consecutive relationship seemed to become more and more of this situation. bring me your wounded, your broken, your addicted, your mentally and emotionally unstable and i will put on my best nurses dress and break out all my glue sticks and transparent tape, and i will fix you.

what becomes of the nurse in this, though? what becomes of the mothering lover who later becomes an actual mother? and, what happens when she breaks? i have learned to run this race of being everything to the other person in a relationship that it has become a default, an auto-pilot setting, and as my dearest friend told me this morning it becomes part of the system. and, i know some of this goes back to never really feeling mothered myself, that i took on that role of caretaker even to my own mother before i even reached adolescence. somewhere along the way even the family i was born into weaved together expectation with love.

this is where it gets tricky, though, as i sit here trying to sift through my definitions of love; because honestly i think that giving is intrinsic and vital to love. i do not want to veer so far from who i have been that i do not still long to make another person happy, fulfilled, possibly better. but, all these untouched parts of me, all my own gaping holes of want and need, they are so neglected that now they are charging forward in some kind of emotional revolt. and, i do not know how to deal with them, i do not know how to manage anything that i want myself. all i seem to do is collapse a little bit more everytime anyone even reaches out a hand, or mentions the way things could be. the smallest things, the most simple acts of kindness, they bring me to tears.

there has to exist this combination in love. i know i have found it in friendship, and in that realm i seem to be able to accept it so much better. but with love, the idea of not being the one to give and give and give, to even think about allowing someone to give to me anything - even the things that seem small and trivial, it opens up this gulf of vulnerability deep inside. but, i want it. i want to be loved in the way i love, and i want to be able to embrace that in my life. i just wish i was not so scared of accepting it, of changing that part of me that blocks it so often, to learn to actually feel like i deserve to be loved - because deep down in those parts of me that i do not share often, and that i do not exactly understand - i do not believe i deserve love.

the blower's daughter ~ damien rice

love is not a victory march

keep art alive; art by joshua petker

life is this way, you wake up one morning with your day planned out, and all those stresses and plans they all spin around in your head. you know what they are, how they look and feel, we all have them. all the problems in your life always weigh heavier than they may actually be if you only took some time to change your perspective; to take a step back. when you breathe for a moment, park your car on the side of the road and maybe write something down, turn the radio up, spend an extra few minutes on the phone with a friend - it changes it, doesn't it? it makes it all so much more bearable - this living a life.

through it all we have these interractions with people, whether in the flesh kind of meetings, or otherwise. i think sometimes we take for granted that the people who matter to us will always be there, and that those other ones, the ones we are either just getting to know, or only know in a seemingly small way - well, we think there will always be time to connect. we live our lives in a pattern, a routine, and sometimes a rut. we complain to each other about what we would change if we could, what we wish was different, what we really and truly want. and, the best of us - the truest of us - we listen to each other, we hold each other's hands, we believe in each other's capacity to be more than we are. and in that, well, sometimes it is the smallest of words that make all the difference.

chris (crash pryor) told me recently that i would be okay, to not let the bastards get me down, to not let someone else's issues cloud my own, and to never stop writing. when i told him i was in the midst of drama he laughed and said "drama? been there, done that, have the t-shirt and the soundtrack," and in those words i gained perspective. i took a deep breath and in his words, and the support and love of a few other important people in my life, i decided where i would leave, and where i would stay, and who i would refuse to give up. i am not sure that i ever thanked him for it, either, but i think in some way he knew. we had meant to meet-up and go out for drinks. we had crossed paths through work and home, in proximity, and in certain circles in both professinal and personal realms. we never did.

in this life we really do believe there will be another chance, another moment, another time.

even in his death i feel like he is teaching me about perspective, and i wish i had the opportunity to thank him, again. there are people in this world that mean the world to me, and i am grateful that i have never shied away from telling them that. if i love you, i will probably tell you often, and repeatedly; and, for me it does not cheapen the emotion. if i tell you i love you i mean it.

the perspective shift i feel right now, though, is an overwhelming feeling of not wanting to wait any longer to live, to change, to love, and to be in this life. i know it is a sentiment that most likely many people feel when hit with an unexpected death, but i do not think that cheapens the meaning of that, either. i suppose i just want to remember that there isn't always more time, that putting off being happy is a ridiculous thing, and if you want something to change in your life maybe you should do it, even if it is scary and difficult, and even if you might get hurt in the process. and, don't let anyone scare you off of what you want, or allow anyone else to tell you what it is you know to be true. trust yourself, and your heart, and don't let the bastards get you down.

thank you, crash. you will be missed.

hallelujah/i know it's over (live) ~ jeff buckley

sing this corrosion to me

keep art alive; art by 2h

sometimes it takes the simple action of stepping away from a situation to find the perspective that you felt you were lacking. that whirlwind of overwhelm and convoluted emotion can take you over, drag you down, and steal from you all that passion and inspiration you once were full of. i feel as if this past week was the eruption and implosion of the past three years. that i had held so many things inside, swallowing sharp pieces and decaying lies, still painting on the illusion of strength and survival.

i have it still, all that strong arms and that shooting sense of i can get through anything, and will. but, it has been damaged, there are places that need to heal, scars that have been re-opened and sting with disappointment, and disillusionment. there are these dents and cracks in the ground that i keep tripping over, twisting my ankle and scraping my knees; you would think by now i would know how to avoid them, how to step around, or just jump across. but, i am ever naive, stupidly romantic, and trusting of people that i should keep at a safe distance.

and i can hear the discord and rhyme from people as i stumble on by, the echo and refrain of will she never learn?

i have learned things, and i have made repeated mistakes, especially in regards to trusting others with my heart, my feelings, my words. but, these were my mistakes to make, my misguided angels to fall for, my misaligned strung up hallelujahs to sing. part of it has been allowing myself to be too many things to too many people, and invariably never enough for anyone. i know this, i preach this, i take it to be part of my personal tenant; and yet, somehow i got hooked into being on all the current places to be, i fell into the lure of the internet communities.

they have that hazy image of family to them, that inferred feeling of being understood and belonging. seems so ridiculous, doesn't it? to be in my late thirties and still longing for that sense of fitting in. it truly is rubbish, and so blatently adolescent. but, when you never had a functional family, when you lacked the rebellion and playfulness of youth, when you never truly got to be a child, a teenager, or a young woman - well, something somewhere has to give. eventually you will make these mistakes that those around you, even those younger than you, will shake their heads at and think why would you even need this at all?

for what it's worth i do not think it wrong to need connection, and to cling to where you find it. and, i do believe that you can make real friendships with people even if you have never shared the same breathing space with them. no matter that i have been hurt in these sorts of situations, and communities, does not mean that i do not believe in their positive existance or how they can be something truly incredible. hurt and disappointment happens, no matter where you meet someone, and no matter how long you have known them. i refuse to feel less than for opening up to people. i may be stupid, but i do not regret the way i love or give, to anyone.

all that said, though, i have found myself in a state of exhaustion and realization that i have spread myself too thin. that in this moment i need to pull back, re-adjust the life-lens, shake myself free from the drama and expectations, and stop being part of the machinations of entertainment and the you're so cool indie requirements. i need to heal from some of this, i need to find myself in some of this, and i need to keep writing because my soul aches when i do not let the words out. this is where i need to be now, in my own space, without other people's definitions or expectations to live up to. i need to get back to being okay with just being me. and, no, this had nothing to do with any one person's words, actions, or deeds; even though there are those who have hurt me lately - some with intent to wound, and others without meaning to. that is all part of life, though, isn't it?

like my blog says, in the ever-resonate words of clementine, i am just a fucked up girl looking for my own peace of mind.

and now, if you don't mind, i need to dance.

"i got nothing to say i ain't said before

i bled all i can,

i wont bleed no more

i don't need no one to understand."

this corrosion ~ sisters of mercy

feathers on my breath

big sur, california

the first five songs of the day:

dancing queen ~ abba
st. pauli ~ art brut
one more time (daft punk cover)/my vien ilin (live) ~ ted leo
no birds today ~ cowboy junkies
new york is a woman ~ suzanne vega

apparently my itunes hates me, or went off and took a holiday without me. when i turned on the laptop this morning and opened up itunes she was completely empty. so, i have had to re-load all my folders of music. on the plus side, all those annoying duplicate songs are now not there. also, my itunes seems to have an early morning abba thing going. no matter how i sort my music, as soon as i hit shuffle and play an abba song starts it all up. not the same one, either; she varies with her abba-love.

i have been (re)reading the unbearable lightness of being recently. the last time i read it i was eighteen, and it astounds me how differently the book feels to me now that i'm reading it, some twenty years later. it is one of those books that i want to take in slowly, contemplate all the meanings and layers, and write in the margins. i am reminded of my favorite english proffessor, and how she encouraged us to keep composition books full of our reactions on anything we read; be it a classic piece of literature, a newspaper article, or a comic book. this article is quite keen, and makes me want to grab a copy of big sur and take the drive. visit the nepenthe, the henry miller museum, and talk to the ocean for a bit.

i've also had my mind on san francisco lately. i cannot believe how long it has been since i've been there, and how much i miss it. there was a time when i was younger, and jules was a baby, that i almost moved there. sometimes i think it may be where i end up, after jules has graduated high school and settled into college. i miss the bay area.

today is shoshana's birthday. she is such an incredible soul, full of poetry, wit and genuine kindness. i miss her quite a bit, and often. i was thinking today at how long we've known each other, and how we've both changed and grown in many ways, and how we are the same in other ways. i hope she has an incredible day, and a fantastic new year in her life.

best show on television this summer, besides californication, has been live at abbey road. seriously, the music has been so incredible that i have even been impressed with bands and artists i normally would not listen to. i posted a video from the show, with damien rice, a week or so ago; i will post another incredible one, later today.

a much needed day off today, though i have been checking work email. it was nice to be able to drop the kids off this morning without the typical rushing around and barely breathing ferver. veronica seems to love school, wakes up excited and anxious to get there. at breakfast, at the school, they had breakfast pizza and fruit. the pizza made me smile as it reminded me of post-party cold pizza mornings, especially when i first lived on my own.

kerry, yo gabba gabba is on the television right now. this is the most surreal and hypnotic children's show i have seen in a very long time. it reminds me of a post-modern sid and marty kroft show. max sure seems to love it.

'cause it's all going on without you

keep art alive; art is 2h

fate is a tricky thing, transient and confusing. do we create our own versions of fate to comply with our desires, or do we finally reach a point in our lives where we wake up and recognize where are path is clearly drawn? how do we fit the people and things that we collect, and hold close to us, if our enlightenment does not include them? is there really one truth to all of it, one way to go, one choice that will define the steps we take? if we decide that the direction that we see painted on the inside of each eyelid, when we close our eyes and really listen to our soul, is going to include loss or pain - is it still worth it? and what do we make of our lives when we realize the future we held as part of our own has nothing to do with us anymore?

i choose to believe that things happen for a reason, even when that truth is hard to take in, and ever tiresome to hear. that said, i also cling to the belief that we have choices to make, and that fate is like an outline that we can trace, but the colors we choose to decorate it with are still up to us. i choose to believe that the family i have, and the family i have made, is worth everything to me; and in that, i know that i would fight any battle, and traverse any obstacle, if it meant that we all go on another day breathing and learning, singing and listening, and living. the older you get the more you realize that it is rare to meet people who get you, who love you regardless of the mess you may be, and who let you grow and be whoever you truly are.

so, what of fate? i have not sorted out what mine is just yet. i thought i knew what it was, or at least a blurry outline of it. perhaps i was allowing the writer in me to create a future that i wanted to exist in, with people who i trusted my heart with. maybe i have not had that quiet moment of self-revelation, where it all becomes clear. or, the scenario i tend to believe the most in: perhaps there are multiple paths in front of me, some known and some yet to be discovered, and that it is alright not to know just yet. what i do know is that i would never give up on the people i love, nor the family i have, and have made, or been included within; because i know how rare they are, and how fragile and beautiful love is.

let go ~ frou frou

i like messy

"you need boundaries between you and the rest of the world. other people are far too messy. it's all about lines. drawing lines in the sand and praying like hell no one crosses them. at some point you have to make a decision. boundaries don't keep other people out, they fence you in. life is messy. that's how we're made. so you can waste your life drawing lines or you can live your life crossing them. but there are some lines that are way too dangerous to cross. here's what I know, if you're willing to take the chance, the view from the other side is spectacular."

meredith grey, grey's anatomy

now isn't it obvious

keep art alive; art by caia koopman

somedays it amazes me how quickly the time passes, how far i have already traveled in my life, and yet, how often adolescent, or naive, i feel. i still play music far too loud in the car, and i sing along; my own little concert on wheels as i roll along the 101 freeway. i still feel confused by love, and boys, and the dynamics between finding someone who fits with who you are, and actually taking the steps of being with them. on the flipside, i feel that i have volumes of life behind me, and novels worth of things to say about all of it. i feel a chaotic whirlwind of knowing and confusion, desire and regret, doubt and belief; and the unmistakeable pull of some invisible internal cord that whispers and sings to me, reminding me that i am ready for more.

last night i stood in my kitchen, steadying myself against the kitchen counter, chopping up various summer fruits that i'd gathered up from my favorite neighborhood produce market. i have been struggling with dizziness all week, a shaky feeling that comes and goes more frequently the last few days, most often when i try to concentrate on anything. at first, i thought it was anxiety. i have certainly had my share of it lately, and i am in this state of mind where i feel overwhelmed, and that everything is in constant disarray. i do not do well when everything seems disjointed and messy; it leaves me feeling out of breath, frustrated, and unhinged. i have lived with anxiety before, though, and this feels different. my head is spinning, as if i have had that one drink too many, when everything keeps moving even when you stop and close your eyes. i lay awake at night feeling my head swirl, and listening to the pounding of my heart, counting the beats, questioning whether they are faster than before.

perhaps this is a breakdown. today i cannot seem to stop crying, and my temper was lit up like fucking disneyland fireworks. i know i need to find some balance, that i have been working too many hours and not allowing myself any time for life. i also know that i have hidden in that, a bit. my life feels so contradicting and overwhelming that i am not sure what the solutions look like anymore. i feel like i need a life assistant to come in and help me sort out things; someone to feng shui my everything, or at least to hold my hand while i cry some more. i feel like having an all-out sulk on the floor, completely adolescent style angst and self-indulgent pout and pity. inside the pieces are not sticking together any longer, and in all this shuffle and shift, i feel rollarcoaster sick to my stomach.

veronica drew me a picture to "make you happy again, momma", and max slid his hands down my damp cheeks saying "don't cry". and, it all just makes me more upset at myself, as i loathe them to see me broken down.

i swore i would never let my children witness me falling apart. it just makes me feel like a terrible mother, and yet another thing i am failing at. that familiar urge to run is sitting heavy on me, and i am trying to mock it, stick my tongue out irreverently, tell it to sod off; i promised that we would not leave for a few more years. so, i sit here and try to breathe. i try to make friends with the side of me that knows this will pass, and the other part that wants to stomp her feet and wail at the moon. they are all me, and i am all them. and, it is becoming quite clear that i want, need, crave more from this life of mine.

some people hide their emotions

and some people show too much

i'm aiming for somewhere central

nosebleed (acoustic) ~ maximo park

and i have started loving sorrow along the way

"the longer your life goes on, the harder the decisions become. inevitably at some point you're asked to give up something you love for something you love. so, sure, you hope you make the right choice, but there's nothing wrong with giving up something you love for something you love. i mean if you're not willing to sacrifice for the things you love, what kind of a person are you?"

adam duritz, counting crows

and something that has made my month of august (and everything after), from the upcoming album saturday nights and sunday mornings, slated for a november release:

come around ~ counting crows

i want to start over

for as long as i can remember i have asked questions of everyone i cared about. somewhere in the back of my mind i see a frivolous magazine article in some nonesense-laden women's publication, the kind that give a girl tips on how to win the boy. how to be the perfect date. how to get a boy's attention. i'm quite sure i scoffed at it, at the time. i'm not one for rules and standards in regards to love, and to most i've never acted the girl to any boy. i don't wait around for phone calls, i don't wait to be asked out, and i have no qualms about saying i love you first.

that said, somewhere in that boy/girl propoganda i internalized something. thing is, i never limited it to boys, or on that ever-elusive way of winning them over. to be honest i've never had trouble with boys liking me, or falling for me, for that matter. i think my biggest obstacle was falling in love back, and trusting that any of that like and love was genuine at all. i seem to be quite skilled at being what everyone else needs - i took those fucked up lessons for love and turned it into an entire guide to life.

i asked questions of everyone to get them talking, to let them know they were listened to, to open them up. because, as that article said, everyone wants to talk about themselves, to share their feelings, to be inspired. but, in the whirlwind of inspiring others, i fell short of my own sense of inspiration. being a muse to others is exhausting, and eventually leaves a gaping hole inside. i did it to myself, and i do not blame anyone else in this. somewhere along the line i decided subconsciously that i was not worth love or friendship on my own merits, or for me as just me. instead, i felt i had to provide life, love, care, inspiration, and to some level, existance to someone else - and only then would i be needed, and worthy of being cared about.

pretty fucked up that is, and i suppose in the enlightenment and subsequent shedding off of this neverending race to please i decided that some level of separation was in order. so, i pull back and collect my thoughts, and realize i have a lot to say. to write. to feel. to express. i feel like the floodgates have been thrown open and i am just pouring out into everything. and, at the same time that all of this internal struggle to break free is going on, i find that i've encountered my own inspiration.

i'm beginning to realize that it is different when you trade inspirations with one another, when you let someone see you for who you are, and when you are asked just as thought-provoking questions that you are known to give over to other people. the girl who asks questions is in awe of the questions asked of her. and, if nothing else, this existance of whatever this is, it has changed the world in me. i feel lit up and inspired; thank you for that.

looking for somewhere to stand and stay

i leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away

slow show ~ the national

i'll be your engine driver in a bunny suit

keep art alive; art by scott altmann

waiting in the target dressing-rooms, circles around the cars max thinks are best; i fancy the lightning mcqueen with his tongue sticking out, though veronica scrunches her nose up and calls it rude. suppose i like to be a bit rude, now and again. i always find it amusing that people who do not know me well find me so serious and serene, either overly-kind or somewhat distant. i've been called mysterious, a poet, an artist, a lover, a mother, and occasionally a bitch. and, yes they are all part of who i am, some days i'm more one than the other. but rarely, if ever, do people pick up the sarcasm, the sense of humor that is rather warped, nor the snarky side. of all the things i know i require trust to let out, i never thought being silly or inappropriate was something i only allowed certain people to see.

if you asked my closest friends they would tell you i can be quite a slag at times, that i laugh as easily as i cry, and that most days i am just a dork. that car, the mcqueen with the tongue stuck out, that is who i am sometimes; irreverent and a bit of a brat. and if i love you, if you matter to me, i will tease you - at times showing very little mercy.

part of it comes from the family i grew up in. we can be a bit of a rough crowd for the fragile, or ill-prepared. we are all very competitive, and have a strong command of words, and know quite well how to use them to wrestle and conquer one another. we are a family of mockers and miscreants, but under all of the snide comments and taunting jabs, we love each other.

my brother told me once that he would sit down any new girlfriend, before he brought them round to meet the family, and go through a de-briefing; basically recanting any and every embarassing story, or topic that will be seen as fair game, so that we are rendered powerless on meeting the new her. i laughed at him and said "you forget that i'm ten years older than you. i have stories you don't even know existed that you were part of." but, then again, he has quite a few on me, too.

while i stood in that dressing room, picking out the tongue-wagging mcqueen and waiting for julia to ask for the next five tops to try-on, my cell phone rang. i put it to my ear and hear pete yorn singing the line convince yourself that everything is alright, 'cos it already is.

for a moment i am transported to chicago - grant park, to be precise, and i am among friends who are screaming and singing along. last night i was saying how much i wish i was there, how after the week i've had i could use the company of friends and music, and she said to me "lucy, what do you want?" and then a list of artists and bands were laid out before me. it was pete that i chose because right now i need a dose of the familiar, a song i can sing along to, and the hands held (and lighters raised) way that music can travel through the distances and bring me right where i long to be.

i was supposed to be among friends today, actually. the beach and kids running in the sand, music and arms to wrap around me that understand what this week has been for me. but, the week has taken it's toll on me, or i suppose, i have allowed it to beat me up. i feel a bit like a scene from fight club, walking about with bruises from my own internal tyler durden. the marks and sore spots are inside, though; a sore throat and headache, my stomach feeling like i've been held upside down and shaken, or that i've just exited montezuma's revenge loopy roller coaster. so, instead of the sand and the much needed water's edge (the ocean, she soothes me), i am back and forth from the couch, slipping into dreams and shivering under a blanket even though it is sweltering outside.

the last dream i had was of climbing a tall tree, and i was up there balancing on it's twisted limbs. my hands were shaking and i felt like the little girl i once was who took that dare from the neighborhood boys, and climbed all the way to the top of the tree-house tree. i remember that feeling, i think they call it vertigo, where everything looks jangly and out-of-focus. i thought i might die, that i would never feel the ground beneath my feet, that i would tumble and fall down some proverbial rabbit's hole and never be seen again.

in this dream, i felt the rush of that, the lack of control and that unmistakable fear trembling and vibrating just under my skin. and then i opened up my mouth to scream, but instead of sound all these feathers flew out. and then the music started, from somewhere below, and with the music came this overwhelming feeling of safety. and with that, i woke up.

my subconscious loves to take the wheel when i allow it, especially when i feel ill and let myself collapse. my dreams are always in color, and they always have a running soundtrack. even in sleep i am singing. the feather girl that i was this afternoon climbed up the tree and was singing along with adam duritz, this line is the one that i woke up with, just waiting there on my slightly parted lips.

she's my angel

she's a little better than the one that used to be with me

cause she liked to scream at me

man, it's a miracle that she's not living up in a tree

i may take a holiday in spain

leave my wings behind me

drive this little girl insane

and fly away to someone new

holiday in spain ~ counting crows