Another Idea - Oct. 19, '09

Pick a phrase: Nice and warm.

We've all heard those types that pass without notice, but take a deeper look.

What does this describe? Make you feel? Turn it inside out and around!

Nice and warm like on a beach -- not having your buns toasted so you can't sit easy and then your nose peels because you forgot the sunscreen and how did you know the sand fleas loved having you for dinner?

Or nice and warm, curled up with your main squeeze watching a video. You make space for the younger cat who insists on squeezing between you two and who tends to park her not so fragrant butt as close to your nose as possible while smiling at her other mom, rubbing her nose in kitty kisses and giving snarky looks to you.

Nice but not so warm in October when the leaves drop and rattle like potato chips under foot and you crunch through them and don't care that you're way over the childhood limit for acting like this is fun. Then you look up from scuffing through the oak and maple discards on the sidewalk and a fellow coming toward you smiles and you KNOW--it's because he wishes he had that nerve to crunch and crackle and enjoy the moment. That is a victory bittersweet because not alot of grownups will let the child out to play without condemnation.

Not nice, but at least it's warm when you stand under a doorway near the subway grate and get the heat rising over your cold wet feet. The snow's melted from the concrete around there and granted it's not the best place in the city but at least you're not freezing your nearest and dearest while waiting for a taxi.

Not nice, not warm...Middle of the damned park in February, you dropped your cell tel in that puddle and HOPED the ice crusting the top would keep it from crashing through. Nope, not a chance in this semi-frozen muck--that your tel would get a break. So off with the glove, stick your hand in the DEEP mucky puddle and hope that isn't a frozen dog dropping you just grabbed. Got the phone, it's dripping, it's got stuff on it HAZMAT wouldn't touch and damn if you didn't have insurance on the pesky thing.

Oh, give me back: Nice and warm. :}

The Dry Spell - Oct. 18, 09

Happens to all of us, no matter what venue we put our hand to. Sometimes we can stumble along, other times we just go around the block and try not to think about it. Or maul a piece of a paper or the blank screen with nonsense--and that is good. Nonsense is vital--it activates the 'I'm groping in darkness, I've got dirt and the pile of discards and it's meaningless--so I don't have to fear I'll fail.' We all hate that, whether in life, writing, or making a toasted cheese sandwich that comes out resembling a charcoal briquette that's gone to seed.

First I was full of good intentions for this (blog/my stories/name it) then got side tracked, then lost sight with coping with things in life--the passing of my 90 year old mom in April, something she had wanted for quite a while, and which took me a while to accept what she wanted, what was the best for her.

I scribble stuff down, get bits and bobs of ideas, then within the past two weeks I lose two more I love. This post isn't about just being in mourning, but accepting what must be let go of, and what must be GENTLY returned to.

Forcing anything--may get the job down by a mental deadline but is it down with love? Some folks have a tight writerly schedule and bless them for showing up on the page from 9am to 3pm. Some grab a word or an idea and just free fall with it. Some do take that break to let the resources refill, let the waves resculpt the sand, to allow renewal, a healing, a peace return.