Faith

'Guess this might not be interpreted as a "happy" image but it is. It's good to be contemplative; I appreciate the irony of my inner/outer selves. Am I an extroverted introvert? Or an introverted extrovert? 'Got lots on my mind...

A "Eureka" before 8am...

"Self-Sabotage". Seems self-explanatory but is it? I hate to admit that part of my wake-up routine is scouring FB; out of hundreds of videos of cute things, I found one idea to focus my attentions.

In an brief "listy" article on Chronic Stress and the long term effects on Mood, the author pointed to "self-sabotage" as a major psychological component in poor mental health. Ah yes…I can thoroughly agree. And it's such an insidious cycle. 'Pretty sure it's one that started when I was…oh about…13! (Yes, the finger is pointed right at YOU, Mister Molester)

My point is that I need to focus less on being "well" and more on how I can create NEW DAYS. The extended winter gave me too many excuses to sit and sulk. Now in the Spring, I'm looking at the financial results…and it's scary. To continue to sulk is just bad bad bad.

Tonight I will (likely) have the opportunity to end some of my Highly Repetitive Bullshit by formally dismissing My Agitation from my private life. (He's here on Tuesdays.) I'm hopeful that I can verbalize, without any theatrics, just how demeaning our interactions actually were. I take responsibility for allowing; I just need him to hear about the collateral damage he causes with that approach. 'Most of it to himself I suspect…but that's NOT my problem.

I guess my best option with GP is prayer. I would really like to do what's right in a Big-Picture-Karma-Correction kinda way. He knows what it means to be "broken" and probably, especially in the long term, my best bet for a Friend to Mend With.

Out of respect for my Dad, I'm not gonna go into details about his health. I still don't know who reads this shit. If by any chance you're a Reader who's ever fucked me over, especially in regard to him: shame on you. That just makes YOU the Asshole.

Ask

Last night was a Game Changer…as in I'm not gonna play any more. 'Pretty sure it LOOKED like Game but it wasn't.

As per previous post, I went out by myself. I was early because I wanted to say hello to the band; they're so awesomely, wonderfully, warm and charming. (I have a special place in my heart for all of the songwriters that come out on Tuesdays…I often feel like a proud parent.) Once I had my hugs, I settled in.

The bartender remembered me and asked about GP, a friend from elementary school. We hung out at the bar once in December so that was pretty amazing. So I texted him about it, he texted back…he was on a barstool next to me within the half hour.

What surprises me most about this man is the odd mix of familiarity, candor, and romance between us. We were never close as children but our lives were socially intertwined. My mother died in 1970, his in '72, our fathers were friends…we were motherless misfits of Manchaca. Odder still is that he also went to high school with Boo and will occasionally share anecdotes about him…! We know Nothing and Everything about each other.

We went outside to smoke and talk; we sat across from each other at a picnic table. I started babbling about the man I consider to be My Agitation; whining about my pining lol. I realized he was holding my hands while I was talking. When I finally paused for breath, he said to me, "Denise. What do you want me to do? Rescue you? Beat him up? … sound like choices to me."

Wow. And it made me laugh at myself because when he put it that way, I really have been stupid over someone (again) who just wasn't into me. GP's sincere interest just about made me cry. We left the picnic table with me vowing not to repeat my stupidity…

And sure enough, when we walked in, there stood My Agitation. After a round of awkward handshakes, the three of us sat at a table together. (My A had done this before with Boo; just sat with us making barely noticeable growling noises under his breath. WTF) It wasn't ridiculously awkward but damn close. And when My A finally went to leave, GP did something absolutely wonderful:

He kissed me in public.

Nothing really happened when we went to his place because of my ever erratic hormonal condition but there was lots of good old-fashioned making out. This was our third time out together and we still haven't consummated. Pretty awesome that I feel like we have.

'Like I said: it was a Game Changer.

Taking Breaks

I don't usually come back to a post to add to it. The exception today is that I actually like my arting; went fast but it didn't feel rote. 'Still very typical though…all of my work suggests Death to a certain degree. Or at least that's how one artist assessed my work about 20 years ago. There's no doubt with this one.

I'm less annoyed than yesterday but I'm still agitated. The "wonder years" side effects make everything seem sarcastic or ironic under the right/wrong conditions. I'm going out tonight; decided on the closest venue (less than a mile) and that should be about right. I know I'll be good because I have friends playin' and if I'm bad, well...I have friends playin'! Its good to live in a place where I know I can go hang out and not have to hear stupid gossip for weeks after.

Happy Saturday from the Hut in Manchaca, TX. 10-4, over and out.

Birds of a Feather aren't Twins

(orig. sculpture by R. L. Blair)

AND you can't make someone love you. 

I'm enduring yet another string of Special Needs' cancellations; all respiratory issues, poor babies. So…after a 12 hour Sleep Fest, I decided to do some arting with my bit of "extra" time this morning. I'm a little annoyed with the result. Maybe because I keep slipping into my thoughts from overnight napping.

I'm annoyed because I've…attached?…myself to…me? I can't even call it, "dating" and I wouldn't dare go so far as calling it a "relationship". Yet here in the 'Hut I sit with no desire to see anyone else. Even worse, I'm becoming…jealous. 'Totally breaks every rule in the Fuck-Buddy Rule Book. pfffft.

I'm almost compelled to let my Past Loves know that yes, Denise is "getting her karma". I believe I have found my True Equal and, after a year, it sorta sucks.

But that's just one facet on my life right now so up/over/under/out I go. Is it Friday?

Behind the Scenes, "Behind the Lines"

"Behind the Lines" is my cousin's radio show on KDRP. They record the show every Tuesday night in my cousin's shop and broadcast twice weekly. He and his co-hosts have had great guests (famous names that I don't happen to know…!) and that makes everyone here so happy. I love being blissfully ignorant of "who's who"; makes for a more sincere introduction.

Well, this being SXSW time, and since the planets somehow aligned, "Behind the Lines" has been able to record LOTS of famous folks over the last two days (more tomorrow). The whole "event" kinda appeared out of nowhere. I think one of the hosts networked with a talent agent or publicist (he's in movies). My sweet cousins were starstruck and didn't know quite what to do about so many people coming over. Something clicked and I just started prepping food and cooking.  I can't quite explain where it came from but I think I just catered! Unfortunately I spent a whole lotta dough which will dawn on me when the compliments wear off.

There's really no greater reward than doing for those who truly appreciate what you have to offer.

Random Arting

A client called and asked to start an hour later today. Cool. What can I do with an hour? Arting of course.

I've really had to rally myself the last few days. The dark, wet, cold weather renders me useless and close to being depressed. Money is as erratic as my mood; very hard not to relate the two in terms of "juju". 'Seems I project the desire for sleep and my schedule will open up and engulf me in slumber. Not a good habit. Down time is business development time…right? Of course it should be.

I'm sure my "Wonder Years" condition comes into play. I miss my kids. I miss some people. I keep missing my cousins and they're right here! My Dad is less than a mile away! What the fuck?

And no doubt when I get home to my cozy 'Hut on this dreary Sunday, I'll be getting into my jammies asap. At least I arted today.

Proof of "Arting"

Cousin Doagie doesn't mind co-habitants being lazy as long as they're making stuff.

Re-Post

I was looking up a particular date and found this entry. Wow. Considering that I left Philly in 2009 and I find myself in Manchaca in 2014, this was quite the prophetic blog post from 2006. THIS is why I started blogging in the first place! "What a long strange trip it's been…"

Prayers

I have a Special Needs client who is drifting towards her Final Rest. She's very tired. Her eldest sister was married Sunday a week ago; my client became ill the day after. I could tell by the tone of her mother's text that everyone in their family was waiting…

I cried a lot that day and then wrote my supervisor. It was a goofy email in many ways because I was kinda frayed. But goofy or not, I had been on-target with my assessment of the situation. My client's mother called me last night and we talked about how we would handle my client's care during her imminent Transition…whether next week or next year. Every rally is a Miracle and each one leaves my client exhausted.

I was finally able to see my client yesterday. I've never worked with her in her bed. She never fully awakened but there was the occasional hint of expression in her face. Maybe it's just my Ego but I'm grateful for her knowing that I was there. My honored to be a part of her Process.

Since I'm thinking about it anyway...

'Might as well blog it. "It" being the subject of bullies.

I remain in daily contact with a very small group of folks in Lockhart. One friend commented that she thought certain politicians were bullies (yesterday was the Primaries) and that she hated bullies. A light bulb went off over my head and I finally saw the common thread in all of my soured Lockhart acquaintances: they were all, on some level, bullies. It doesn't always take the form of outright shoving; the meanest bullies are manipulative just to fuck with people. Philly taught me to walk away when bullied because bullies hate that most of all. It has never been about doing anything back; I think I was so despised because I just didn't care.

And I'm, at best, a "three strikes you're out" acquaintance. I'll let a couple of slights/hurts go but come number 3, I'm done. 'Not sure why I'm like that but I DO know I'm protecting my mental health/well-being by doing so.

I have no malice towards anyone to any great extent. Obviously I'm still angry but that's very different. I'm hurt but I'm not taking it too personally…considering.

Random Act of Photoshop

Images are feeling a little…rote. That's ok. It's all Process. It's all good. Sometimes it's more about the Practice than the Product…especially since the "product" has no monetary value.

Last night I got thrown an emotional "curve ball"; ex-Boo's stepdad wrote me a note. I let myself cry for a few minutes, cleaned up my face, wrote him back and commenced to co-hosting our reg. Tuesday night here at home. I just can't let myself get sucked back into my anger. Why couldn't Boo see just how early (Dec. 2012) our relationship had been in danger? What stopped me from telling him? Oh snap. I did. Over and over. All I got was a bedroom of my own.

It's occurred to me since last night that there are two specific events that 1) completely changed my perspective and 2) few people seem to know/care/see the direct results of those events:
my 1st Bloys Camp Meeting, Aug. 2012 and my 2nd Bloys Camp Meeting, Aug. 2013.

Was I "born again" or something? No, not quite. (I did have a very big scare with my Aunt Lil; she passed out the first night of my first visit. The result: I now see her daily!) I definitely feel a stronger connection to the "Great Whatever" and I've felt dramatic changes in how I perceive myself and the people in my life. I attribute those changes more to context; I journaled a great deal both visits and had specific topics to ponder. The first year was all about reconciling the most painful parts of my past. I remember a sermon regarding sin and how confession to God is just the beginning of what we should do…by confessing to others (when appropriate), we can let the past teach us. We can be consoled, supported and we can confront and reconcile. I did just that: I confronted the man who took my virginity when I was 13. That demon is dead (symbolically) and my relationship with my dad has been salvaged.

The first year also brought me much closer to my extended family. It'd been since childhood that I've enjoyed being a part of the greater good. They've shown me the love and positive reinforcement that was sorely absent in Lockhart.

By the time my 2nd trip to Camp Meeting was planned, my domestic relationship had sunk to new lows. I was at a loss as to what I should do. Out of all of my journaling and thinking and un-thinking, I came away with a clear directive: do nothing. So when I got back to Lockhart, that's what I did. I didn't put any energy in any direction other than the tasks at hand…time would decide. And it did. Dad had his heart attack and triple bypass and the resulting deterioration in my relationship with Boo finally tipped the scales. While I'll always wish for a healthier departure, there's no doubt that it was time to go. If he didn't see me as "family" then he just didn't "get it" and likely never would. I was worth fighting for. We were worth fighting for.

And now I just have to let the last of all of that go… I'll let myself have little cries and "moments" but I refuse to stay angry. I just can't afford it.

Every Day is New

'Woke up this morning, wondering if I could pay my bills tomorrow and by noon, I've made enough to make it. And I have some income still in the mail… I really couldn't ask for better right now. Sure beats a broad array of alternatives!

The weather is also much different from when I woke up; the temps have dropped over 20deg and its raining…again. I'm sitting in my 'Hut grinning. I just made a trip to the outhouse and into the compound for water. I was able to time my trek between showers which is no minor victory here. It's a goofy sort of Bliss.

I really don't have much to say but I was feeling guilty for having time to spare and nothing to show for it. I should be "arting" more (as Cousin Doagie likes to say.) A friend of mine asked (not sure of context…a speech?) if we were living any parts of our "dream" Life, and if we are, how are we treating that "dream"? Since I'm enjoying so many elements of what I consider to be a perfect living situation, I really do need to show myself the respect I deserve. More "arting" it is.

Of course financial donations from the Universe are always appreciated. The only improvement I would make in my Life right now is my debt. Pfffft.