on being swallowed

there is good news and then there is bad news, but all is relative. hitched, connected and tied together like a knot. i am torn at this point on knowing what to write. i have gotten to the point of wanting to write more than i believe that i should. i am trying to figure out what the purpose is here. on what it means to be swallowed up and egotistical. how much real life in the world of blog do we need? possibly i think too often and too much about things that are not worth it. this morning jason called me and that in itself is really fine. i do not quite know how to go about resolving or advising. i have my faith that guides me when i allow it or when i am obedient and willing to listen, but friendships and relating can be too difficult. i feel i ought to step away from the intensity of any relationship, because i am afraid that in my intensity i push those i love away from me. i also think that in relating i expect the other person to pick up and understand. from everything that i see about myself, my heart, it seems i have an intense way about me all of the time. is it due to pride, fear, and an all-knowing inpatience. how can pride, discernment, and knowledge apprehend me, forming me, molding me outside of what i believe in and desire? i do not think of myself as having a poor esteem or a warped view of my identity. but how can i not see things from a biased perspective, is it not about self preservation here?

i want to pretend like my life is most excellently drawn out. i believe in the path before me, even if i cannot see through the thick forest, thorns, and fog. i am angry because i feel i maybe getting the better of my self, i feel fooled by my self. the me in i is beautiful and ugly almost simultaneously. i have been calling it the simultaneous nature of being, for a while now, but it sounds so cliche'. is it the flaky artist in me or the over analytical pseudo intellectual that lies to the normal, average nerd about who i really am. i have felt that when at my worst the product would generally be at its best. is that a lie? i have thought that in my weakness, my suffocation, or oppression, the poor in spirit, meek and mild; that i was indeed at the top of my game. the sarcastic wit/humor, the dry caustic ways of a small chubby girl with napoleon complex, has been something to be proud of. it reminds me of all the things i dislike about unchanging, naughty, heartlessly cold people. i don't want to be someone everyone is afraid of. i don't want to isolate myself from me though. but i want my identity to reflect my faith and my desire to be a godly-holy girl.

i struggle with feeling desperate. i don't have any reason to feel that way. i am thankful, so very grateful. i refuse to underestimate redemption. doesn't everyone struggle with balance. if you have got a spouse and children aren't you always worried about losing yourself, sacrificing the musician, teacher, artist, professional career, moolah making martyr. i on the other hand wonder if i'll ever be married or have children or what exactly is the path i must follow. what exactly is my future? does society put too much emphasis on these things? for sure, without a doubt.

like i have said the meantime is the future for me right now. it is being an artist, being a daughter, sister, friend, coworker and crafty. thank god i have more to learn from, than an example like martha stewart. i appreciate what she does but if celebrities don't piss me off, i don't know what does.

in other news...i am sending hannah's package her way today. i have to say again that her letter was most nice. if you are all interested you should check out the snailmail group. i mention it because as technology forces us in many ways to depersonalize, speed life up to the point where everyone and everything is a blur. technology is also a gift that allows us to revert and repersonalize. i am beginning to dislike the thought of blogging an unoriginal blog, but at the same time i look forward to getting to know, and being known on a more intimate level with people from all over the world.

paper trail

03.02.05
so far my day has been hectic. how often do you feel taken advantage of? once or twice a day. and how much should i be willing to give? i would rather not visit new york or lakeland during the summer months, but the winter season is running out on me. and erin have you seen the gates? are they uncomfortable for the city to look at? i feel a bit like i should rearrange my place here. pour out some of the old and gather the fruit around me. there are amazing people doing amazing things and i know my mind is capable as well.

03.03.05
exciting news to tell of via hannah @ huffmania. she surprised me and sent out a precious box of treasures. it first came ups to my home, but i wasn't there to receive it, so i rerouted it to my officespace. then it was delivered to the wrong place and my good pal, carolyn in the city went to retrieve it for me. inside was the most thoughtful letter i believe i've ever gotten from someone i have never actually met before in person. i am just blown away and feel an immense amount of gratitude and renewed strength in the creation of this friendship-snailmail venture. hannah sent me sheets of this amazing paper. which i will have to take many photos of. she also sent a sweetheart clutchy-sorta pouch, two fine picked reads: Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger, her recommendation; for esme'-with love and squalor.
The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. Oh this is so great. my firstest book trade ever. holy hell almighty! all may have gone awry, but in a very fantastic way. thank you hannah. now i have got to get off my proverbial backside and send this package off.

BSIDE:

last night i came home and there were two men outside my apartment building. they seemed to be lingering in a sketchy way, yelling up to a lady in the apartment above mine. i sat in my car waiting for them to depart, but it was as if they were waiting for me to get out of the car. so finally i decided to be brave, cold, and unapproachable. i walked across the lawn staring straight at one of the men. all went fine, but up until i went to sleep the men were down on the sidewalk yelling up to "angie" or "angela". all i know is that she's a heavy footed woman. stomping all of the time now. if it's not her it must be the man who wanted up. i was very close to calling the cops last night. i just couldn't pinpoint if there was a conflict, drug deal or stupidity. i got a letter from the property manager that said we could call the po-lice if there was public disturbance outside. it is a difficult choice to make. i suppose if it happens again i will make the call. i just have some hang ups about cops and i don't want to reap the consequences with neighbors. ooooohhhhh brother.

yesterday when i was writing about that ernest hemingway book-the sun also rises. i couldn't remember the title. if anyone else wants to do a book trade i'm up for it. anything at all seriously. well i'm off until i think of more to share.

i also sent an early birthday present to kate, lotta jansdotter was/is having a sale on her 2005 calendars. it is a must check out. i'm constantly looking at her stuff and blissen.

though i walk

i have been fearing this day for a while but i am willing and motivated and more than happy to MOVE ON. so here is my plan. go to atlanta, go to new york, take suggestions, look for a new job, sell my art wherever i can, give things away freely and everyday, write a novel of nothing, challenge the corners with my freestyle walking pro-shoes, and teach myself to k-nit. hows that? though i walk through it, i'm walking right? and that along with the mountains on either side of me is the key. i will also be leaving the dreary nation of cat behind. not that i've been all that dreary here, but the rough times have crawled up to my ears and i've about had enough. i cannot go back and rearrange the past so i must move forward into the great unknown future of blahblahblah. i have had moocho encouragement and now it is time. the man above is wunderbar...i believe. it actually reminds me of ernest heming-ways, ah now i forget and all that is coming to mind is the eternal sunshine of a spotless mind. i'd like to tie myself to a forgetting machine, just for a moment. but that's all a waste i'm actually just fine. no move is a bad move. i'm no pawn, even if i were i'd be...

snow deep

i am finally back from the north. a fine snow deep fell on thursday, which made me feel very happy and alive inside. i couldn't believe my eyes, considering we never see snow like six inches in the south. there was much packing to do and organizing on thursday. in the evening we went to the red lion diner. talk about a fargo feeling moment. a jersey life seems so different. there does not seem like a whole lot to do. farm after farm stretches across the state. i wasn't sure when we left one town and entered another. i spent a whole day with mommom and poppop at the masonic home. when they came and picked me up in the morning we went straight there and up to their tiny cozy little apartment. it is a wonderful, really gorgeous place. old and newly renovated. i walked with mommom the entire campus, meeting, seeing and observing the lives of people living there. so very encouraging to see that our elders are being taken care of. we had lunch together and dinner and inbetween the went through their room and gathered things for me to bring back with me. my mommom knitted a beautiful sweater and scarf for me, that i wore the rest of the trip. my mommom gave me her old (vintage) wedding cake topper. it must be from 1953. there were items from my great grandmother, and my great grandfather, frank's first wife adelaide. i am a lover of treasures and they have so many. i hope to pass things along to my brothers as well.

when at my nana's i found several sets of knitting needles, thousands of spools of thread, playing cards, a bag of very old (again very vintage) wrapping paper and gift tags, i found two locomotive fortyfives that were my grandfather's. i got my poppop's old harmonica, the list goes on and on. i supppose the reason i mention all of this is because i am amazed at the history. i am floored by what my grandparents have saved throughout the years. i believe they saved things not because of hoarding, but because things that people gave you or momentos actually meant something back then. i'd say nowadays, things don't mean that much and they shouldn't really all that much (as in treasures stored up on earth aren't going anywhere with us when we die) anyway. but at least they weren't bombarded with commercialism, materialism, and the greed that leads to overspending and major debt. but i appreciate my history and the northern aspect of my life.

i sent off two notes to l. braxton and elizabeth today. and i'm still working on the one for h. i'm going to try and not work (rx) as much this week. i feel i might wear myself out to quickly. i had a great time away and i know that my nine to five is about to get very hectic.

now that i've been away i have this driving desire to move away from chattanooga. i am not sure what my motivation is or where exactly i want to go. i have got to pay my parentals back, but at the rate i'm working it'll only be a four or five month process. i had such high hopes and expectation in moving to honolulu. it is still there in the background calling out my name. there's atlanta and new york. at this point it might be a good thing for me to move. i feel i'm the last one left in away. that i may be the last one on my island. i would like someone to offer up a plan. tell me what i should do or give me a sign, a pointer finger. i know that in many ways i'm attached here. obviously family and new city, but other than that i could leave the friendships behind. not that they aren't great, but i'm ready and feel prepared to branch out more. there's my art that might florish in another, larger city. i feel financially alright. the two job thing isn't killing me. it's the uoha job that i dislike and feel suffocated in. my art isn't killing me, it has been good to get more involved. but i do like the city and i do like the snow deep.

morning monster

how i dread getting into the shower, rushing off to work and barely getting there entirely. the morning monster is coffee and piddling about, watering the banana tree, shamrock, and prayer plant. the mm dangerously persuades me to craft and pick up the odds and ends left out from the night before. i want to work crosswords in the morning, nibble on pringles and valentine conversation hearts.