Grateful for Art.

And mindful reflection.

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Evanston Canal, by the hospital

And quiet.

And breath.

And tears.

And laughter.

And color.

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J and C in Chinatown

And sound.

And eyes that see.

And ears that hear.

And the willingness to work through what I cannot see or hear,

yet,

or maybe ever.

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Safe doesn’t always mean pretty
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Strength from all over the place. Some boundaries too.
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No such thing as trapped. Not really.

Grateful for all that has led me here, right now.

Grateful for you and others on my path who may have caused wounds,

And scabs.

And scars.

And joy.

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My busy head. I have learned to like my head and its committee.

And grateful for my voice and for yours.

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One scar, of many.

This is my heart.

And this is my art.

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When I couldn’t sleep last night, this happened.

And we all have stuff with which to make art.

So grateful.

 

Loving John After My Break Up with Peter

It’s always been you, John.

Most people know that yesterday was the 38th anniversary of John Lennon’s assassination. If you know anything about me, you are aware that I am much more than just a lifelong fan of John Lennon and his music. I hoped to lose my virginity to John Lennon. Obviously, that didn’t work out as he was assassinated in 1980, but had he lived longer…. Continue reading “Loving John After My Break Up with Peter”

Boxing Gloves & Kid Gloves

Dukes up.

Boxing gloves on.

Ready for the big fight, flight, or, freeze. Continue reading “Boxing Gloves & Kid Gloves”

Little Girl Found, Kicking & Screaming

And once she learned to kick and scream, the monsters quieted down.

When she knew she was safe to stop kicking and screaming, the monsters left

forever.

She was left with some permanent scars that she saw as rich and beautiful, because they were perfect to her and not because they had to be, but because they just were.

The little girl healed and the woman flourished.

The little girl and the woman agreed to coexist as the caretakers of each other and providers of the ointment that would protect and honor her scars

forever.

Continue reading “Little Girl Found, Kicking & Screaming”

Under Ar(rest) & Truthful Ad(mission)s

I’m good. I’m fine.

I’m lying.

I tell myself that even when I am physically sick, I am somehow charged with at least making the effort to will myself well. I try this every single time I am ill, and I never succeed. Today is no different. Continue reading “Under Ar(rest) & Truthful Ad(mission)s”

A Fear of Peaks (and Valleys)

As I stand at the base of the highest mountain I have ever seen, I squint to view its highest peak. I try to appraise what it will take to reach its top. How can anyone possibly live through this painful and dangerous climb? I try to count all of its jagged edges above the timberline, but there are too many to track. I panic. I don’t know anything about the other side of the mountain. I acknowledge that my understanding of this risky venture can only be accurately evaluated by walking to the other side of the mountain along its base. Continue reading “A Fear of Peaks (and Valleys)”

Loving the Petty Moments, Truly.

DISCLAIMER: I have been on a writing strike. Bear with me. Thanks.

When I was a child, I couldn’t fathom the idea that anyone was a Tom Petty fan. I disliked his singing style so much, I balked at listening to the meaningful music. Of course, I felt the same way about Bob Dylan and Janis Joplin. Now that I’m older, (and CLEARLY wiser,) I’ve grown to fall in love with and appreciate extraordinary talents that transcend a “purdy” or lyrical vocal quality. All of these artists’ songs strike deep chords inside of me and are among my very favorites.

Beginning on April 4th of this year, I celebrated spring, by springing free from a job that resulted in deep pain and angst in me. Once I left that position, I couldn’t help but notice that I was hearing a ton of Tom Petty songs. Perhaps I was just listening for them. It seemed that almost daily, I’d hear, I Won’t Back Down The Waiting, Free Falling, and Learning to Fly.

I didn’t understand the meaning, or if there was any meaning for me. I just knew that feeling trapped and waiting to leave that job was the hardest part. I had to learn to fly again and while I was free falling, I was not going to back down or retreat.
Continue reading “Loving the Petty Moments, Truly.”