I took delivery on a hammock chair after having my inner covetousness activated by seeing it in action (and yoinking it from Kimi for a bit) and instead of leaving it in the box for a year like I might have not too long ago, I unpacked the thing and took it on a test drive in my front yard.
I loooooooooove it, though I will admit, it’s a bit of a trial to get in and out of the bag and set up – not like those easy camping chairs that you can practically toss in the air and expect to land in a usable position BUT the whole “swinging in a hammock chair in the evening sun” thing makes it well worth it. Here’s the little vignette I set up out there.
Something about rust and teal makes me ridiculously happy. I don’t know why.
I sit out here often now with my iPad and a podcast in my ears, and it is exactly what I wished for myself in July of 2020 when I first moved here. I couldn’t quite get myself to do much more than stoop sit for a couple of years there but that’s shifted, like so many things have shifted, and I’m grateful.
I went live on YouTube yesterday and talked a bit about the struggle of getting any kind of traction on that platform. I think the fact that I talk openly about mental health, trauma, and other things that the YouTube gods have deemed “controversial topics” means I’m being throttled. My subscribers report that I *never* pop up in their “recommended for you feed” and despite hitting the bell to get notified when I go live, that never happens either.
I’ve done over 40 lives on YouTube and my subscriber count hasn’t budged. I’m lucky to get twenty people in there – twenty!
So, I give up. I’m going to move the lives to Facebook because that’s where my peoples are AND the test live I did yesterday got more views and comments than anything I’ve ever done on the YouTubes.
It was a good try, though. I’m not counting it as a failure, though I admit I did have a moment when I wondered “Is it me? Am I boring? Am I not worth showing up for?” and then I recognized that for what it was – bullshit.
Anyway, here’s what I made during the live.
The blackout poem I created:
The first time I had ever seen big water the strength of lace bobbins and threads trailing old women with full open heart(s)
a sudden Holy Spirit.
The book I’m using for this project I started in March of 2020 and abandoned is “Untie The Strong Woman” by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. If you’re going to work with blackout poetry, starting with beautiful prose sure does help!
The next poem I’ll be painting to (on the right hand facing page) feels so poignant to me…
I ran laughing. I ran more – laughing, laughing laughing as though crazy drunk.
For punishment they set me down hard in the dark by myself.
Oof, right?
It conjured memories of the way I was “grounded” in childhood for the tiniest infraction – months in my room, forced to eat in the bathroom so I wouldn’t get food on the bedding, plate perched on the toilet seat while I sat on the floor, my siblings forbidden from speaking to me but taunting me anyway, my parents faces, stony, cold.
***
This morning as I sip my coffee and slay the list, I know this to be true:
No one will ever set me down hard in the dark by myself again. I am and will forever be in the business of finding or making light.
I wrote a poem and someone commented “Somewhere out there, Mary Oliver is smiling…” and that made me cry because she is my matron saint and so much a part of my literary and spiritual lineage. I felt so seen.
Someone who used to make me really uncomfortable and doubt myself and feel like I didn’t belong now has the exact opposite effect on me and I am shocked by the amount of tenderness I feel towards his curmudgeonliness now that I see it for what it is. He makes fun of me, because banter is his way of saying “You’re okay, kid”, and while he is in no way old enough to be my father, I have taken to thinking of him as one of my “Clay Daddies”.
I am drinking coffee in my first hand warmer mug and feeling smug because I’ve got about eight more in progress. Harvestfest folks! I’M COMING FOR YOU!
I’m painting a thing for new moon in gemini that feels so good to paint. I’ve dropped down out of my head and into my body with this one and that is delicious. Also GOLD LEAF.
There is a steak the size of my head waiting for me to cook for dinner.
Walking down Central Ave is so weird now because someone I just met recently grew up on this street, and we had no way of knowing that, and it was such a surprise to feel how small the world is and how the universe conspires to put us in the way of beauty, and somehow, knowing that has anchored me here and made it feel even more like home.
The fact that the pottery studio is walking distance from my little nest feels like a Godswink and I am paying attention.
Did I mention Gold Leaf?
I’m writing again.
Your turn.
P.S. Speaking of Clay Daddies, this is another one. Watching him throw is like watching witchcraft in action.
P.S. The poem in question:
Not An Ode
I once found
a bee on the
front step
all curled up
like the number nine,
like a question mark
or an ending,
dead at first glance
but upon closer inspection
(because I notice these things)
I saw Its wings shiver,
and its legs pump in the air.
You would have
stomped it without
a thought, swept it off the step
like it was nothing
but I made a bee line
into the house to
sprinkle sugar
and drip water
on a spoon.
I tucked the rim of it
and all my hope
up under its
proboscis
because
that is who I am.
That
is who I am.
If I do nothing else
of value in my life,
I’ll have done that.
I do not understand time right now. How is it already April 11th? WHAT IS HAPPENING? I feel like a kid on a merry-go-round – hanging on for dear life while the thing spins me into a state of panic and vertigo, and I know I’m not alone.
I keep opening this little portal of light with my fingers hovering over the keyboard, but everything I want to tell you isn’t quite ripe enough to share yet. Everything that’s alive in me is a little too raw for anything but vaguebooking and cryptograms and that is just not my jam. It used to be, trust me, but these days I am incredibly sensitive to how easy it is to read a thing and wonder “are they talking about me?”.
Unless you’ve been intimately involved with me in meatspace, no, it’s not about you, but still. It’s so uncomfortable to read someone’s “no context and no fucks given” update, isn’t it?
Unless it’s poetry, and then, somehow that covers a multitude of sins, but I have writer’s block at the moment, so that’s not happening either.
Butandalso I am art journaling like my hair is on fire, so I am letting it all out – just not necessarily in a way that is comprehensible to anyone but me, so this space has been neglected. I’d apologize for that, but truly, I’m not sorry. The space I’m holding for myself right now feels sacred.
Let me share the things I can, though.
I’m doing #the100dayproject, which I tweaked so that there is no “behind”. Last time I attempted this, getting behind totally ruined it for me because I had no idea how to be gentle with myself and break the rules that were standing in the way of my continuing. This time, I’ve given myself so much grace. I’m on day #45. Everyone else is on day #49. I do not care. I truly don’t. I have done FORTY-FIVE process videos. FORTY-FIVE.
If you’re a regular reader, you know that I just had an intense few days hanging out with my son, known affectionately in my community as GG, and getting him ready to move to the far North (Rankin Inlet for those who are curious about how far North). I made sure he had an adequate coat, some gloves, and enough mama hugs to last him for a while and then this morning at 6 a.m., he got on a plane.
I don’t know when I’ll see him or his brother, with whom he is going to live, again because that trip up there is one helluva trip and none of us are in the financial position to make that happen any time soon.
I’ve known this was the plan for a couple of weeks and I had to move from terror to optimism, but I did it. I did it and as I type to you today I am in love with the way my brainmeats can wrangle a thing as heavy as this – my seriously mentally ill son moving way beyond my mama’s reach to start a new life in a hostile climate – so that I feel upbeat about it.
He’ll be surrounded by cousins and aunts and uncles and I am just gonna keep that faith that if he falls, there will be someone to catch him.
Please cross your fingers with me for both of us.
All the good luck, GG!
Of course, I found out that GG was moving up North about a week after I started my #the100dayproject and there was no way I could keep up with it while he was here, but instead of telling myself I’ve failed, I’m telling myself I’ve paused. I’m going to resume on Monday with Day #21 as though I never stopped, and that works for me. Pausing is allowed, especially when life throws you a curveball.
Here are a few of the 20 spreads I’ve done so far.
And HELLLLLLOOOOOOO! This starts TONIGHT at 7 p.m. EDT
I am calm and centered and totally ready for it, too! Get more details here.
There’s already a lesson on using templates and coloring pages in your work, and another one on how to create templates in Procreate if you’re into that. On Friday, we’re going to do a little journey to the Realm of Air to gather information about how we might engage with it as a way to express ourselves in our mixed media art. We’ll talk symbols, colors, and other associations and correspondences in preparation for the weekend. On Saturday, we’re going to work with a template, which we’ll fill with the colors and symbols that best represent what we want to call in from the Realm of Air, and then on Sunday, we’ll work intuitively on a mixed media painting!
You’ll have forever access to the replays which will go up shortly after each day’s gathering ends so if you’re planning on doing the St. Paddy’s thing today, you can do the Friday Replay before diving in with me live at 1 p.m. on Saturday.
Are you in? Please use coupon code WILDERLOVE to get 20% off.
This is the first in a series of four that we’ll be doing together at the solstices and equinoxes throughout 2023! Next up will be fire at summer solstice. WOO HOO!
And that’s all I’ve got for today. Here’s a picture of Salem for tax because I know this is short, but I’ve got some running around to do before I meet you at 7!
If you read my last post, you may have noticed a sneak peek of a painting in progress. It was just a drawing in black paint with black hair at that point. Here it is again in case you missed it.
I had a couple of classes to attend the day after (thankfully with camera & mic off) so I splashed around the entire time and ended up with this.
Back when I was still in school I had a teacher who told us that if you doodle or draw when you’re listening to lectures, you’ll retain more information, and I gotta tell you! It works! So when I have a class that involves a lot of listening, I’ll paint along. Two birds, one stone. Ta da!
