Delight & Despair

I. I’ve been down with varying degrees of dizziness/vertigo for two weeks now, and I’m over it. Leaf mold allergy, probably, since this happens every year around this time if there’s a lot of rain. I’m doing Benadryl and Gravol when it gets really bad.

II. Turmeric and ginger in my coffee in the morning, and turmeric and ginger in my chamomile tea at night. Luscious.

III. Pottery makes me happy. I turned and trimmed 12? 13? pieces yesterday and also got to play with coloured slip. I’m going back next Tuesday to glaze. I can’t wait.

IV. We’ve had issues with a peeping tom on the property for almost a year now. He was caught red handed on Saturday morning, charged, issued a restraining order, and then released. It was a *nightmare* waking up to all that drama (cops on the front lawn – my dogs went off their rocker and my heart aged ten years), and it’s been a nightmare worrying about whether or not he’ll come back, since he is clearly not right in the head and these things have a nasty habit of escalating.

I am feeling very woe, woe, why me as a result because *fuck me can I not get a break?*

V. Since I’ve been leaving the house more, Salem has regressed a bit in her house training. This is unpleasant and frustrating to say the least. Add that to the disaster that my house becomes when I have vertigo, and I’ve been in a state BUT today has been better. I’ve been watching her like a hawk and crating her when I can’t and so far, so good. I also got four loads of laundry done.

In better furbabe news, Sybil has been super snuggly, and I love it.

VI. Here! Have a giveaway!

VII.I still miss him and I’m pissed off about that because I should be over it by now, but nope. Definitely not over it.

VIII. I was talking to a peer last night about how hard it is to be an entrepreneur and feel like you have to be positive all the time and “keep up appearances” in order to succeed. It’s such bullshit. So alienating. Life is a mixed bag of delight and despair and I’m too tired to lie.

IX. I am craving cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches, and I am going to make that happen.

X. And you? How are you? Tell me everything, the delight and despair.

I Miss Your Face

I. This is a thing we used to say to each other, and I miss saying it. I also hate feeling it because,yo. I miss your fucking face.

II. This is the hardest weekend of the year for me because right now, at this time every year, I’d be either anticipating your arrival, or you’d have already shown up and we’d be hanging out. I am *gutted* tonight. Gutted. I’m Sinead O’Conner level fucked up over the loss of you tonight.

III. I *will* move past it though. I am doing all the spiritual work I need to do to make sure of that. All the therapeutic work. All the self-inquiry. All the fucking work.

IV. But tonight is not *fine* with me. I am not fine.

V. I miss your face.

VI. I am writing into a void. If you’re smart, you’re not reading this. You’re not reading anything. You have disappeared and nothinged me. But you, Trailer Park, were never all that smart, so I suspect you are reading this. Ya fuckin’ donut.

VII. I poured you up a shot of Fireball. It’s sitting by George who is guarding it for you. I whispered in his ears that I want you happy, over it, well, and thoroughly moved on and George said “You’re lying” so the work is a work in progress. Most of this is true. I want you happy and well. I do not want you over it or moved on. I want you missing my face. I want you full of egrets.

are they stability? My love. I hope they are stability af.

Full of them. I want you to have anniversaries like I have anniversaries. I want you drunk on the garage floor with my name in your mouth. I want there to be things you hear or see that make your guts flip. I want you gutted.

VIII. I do not like what this says about me, but I can live with it because unlike you, I can live with all my parts.

IX. You should come hang out with me and learn to live with all your parts.

X. In my dreams, we are just about to walk up the hill toward the fire. I put on something pretty because you called me a beautiful woman once and I believed you. You take my hand. We have all we need. The buffalo skin we’ll spread out by the fire. The cooler of whatever we’re drinking – Caesar’s and Fireball and maybe some Buttershots. You look at me like maybe I am magick and I am happy and certain and ready for whatever comes next.

XI. I miss your face. <insert a bunch of swearing because I really fucking miss your fucking face>.

XII. Our people are gathering tonight, virtually. We’re doing a burn. Last time we all did a burn in person, I watched you help to manage the burn. Your tall, broad frame at ready to save the fucking world if anything went awry. My triple A, Mine, I thought. You strode back my way and you called me Ivory tower. I laughed at you and called you Trailer Park. Laurie wandered over to tell us we were one of her favourite couples. You took my face in your hands and kissed me soundly. There was applause. I was *yours*, I thought. You were mine. I was yours.

XIII. I was wrong, though, and I wish I’d known sooner, because dude.

XIV. It’s a year on now and I’m still pretty much gutted.

XV. My love, my love. I miss your face. I really fucking miss your face.

It Must Have Been Love

I. This popped up in my FB feed and I laughed out loud because doesn’t this first Mondegreen just describe my life from October 2018 to August 2020? I do not think we had one sober encounter the entire time we were together. We were drunk the night we met in 2008. We were drunk when we finally decided to cross over into lovers in 2018. Drinking is a part of fest, yanno, so there was always Fireball on board. And Caesars. He loved his Caesars.

It was love though. It was. And we didn’t see one another for long stretches so when we did, we went into fest mode. And in between, there were all these lovely emails and text messages and phone calls.

It was love. Is love.

It’s just that I’ve just reached that tender place where I can laugh at myself for going so headlong in on someone who was never going to go headlong in on me.

Story of my life. AMIRITE?

II. Maybe not anymore.

III. Butandalso I am not really looking to go headlong in on someone for a good long time yet. I am *gasp* finally having some sex – only took a year after that breakup to break my celibate streak, but it is lovely, uncomplicated sex that won’t change my life. But I also know what it’s supposed to feel like – the way my body responds when I am deeply in love – and that’s what I’m going to hold out for in terms of going all in on someone.

IV. I never felt that way about anybody before. I wonder if I ever will again. I don’t mind if I don’t, though. Some things you only get to have once in a lifetime, and I’m old enough to know better than to go chasing dragons. I will absolutely love again. Already do to one degree or another. Just not *like that*. Not *that much*. Not that deeply.

And I still do. Always will.

IV. Butandalso I know I deserve much, much more and better than what was on offer. The circumstances were too difficult to navigate. It was too hard. Too complicated. Too fraught.

They say “all you need is love”, but you also need mutual respect and integrity and honesty and some kind of self-awareness and a shared mission. I’mma hold out for all that, and in the meantime, there is sex and affection and friendship.

V. I’ll take it.

VI. Having sex for the first time after a year was hilarious to me. It is *so not like riding a bike*. But. It broke the streak and it was immensely sweet and tender and funny and pleasurable and I am looking forward to doing it again soon.

VII. That’s enough about my sex life, eh? ;) But, seriously. I am also this amongst many other things.

Why yes, I am DTF.

VIII. I have so many fun plans for this month I can hardly believe it. Drinks with friends tonight, then Lee and Battlestar Galactica. Saturday, I have a backyard BBQ. Sunday, I have a gathering with like minded folks + Kimi. Monday, I have pottery class. I’m doing a late night walk to go make offerings to the faeries with my friend Rick at some point next week. There’s another outdoor gathering on the 22nd. I have a house party with friends on the 26th.

IX. Plans for my birthday weekend fell through (we’re doing it on the 18th instead), though, so I’m looking for something fun to do on the first weekend in October. Hit me up if you’ve got any ideas! I do have to teach a weekend retreat (details soon) during the day, but I’ll be free in the evenings.

X. And that’s 14/30 for the blog along. ALMOST CAUGHT UP!

I Think I’m Out Of The Woods

I. I skipped posting yesterday because I was eyeballs deep in finishing up a thing that was due for the Life Book 2022 Taster Sessions. It’s all done now and I can take today to breathe and recenter before diving into everything else that needs to be done between now and the end of September.

Y’all, I had so much fun creating this even though I was feeling the time crunch. The first spread was done during a Journal Jam demonstration. The second spread was done on the “palette page” that got created during the Jam. I am so pleased with both.

II. It was a fun Saturday night. Lee messaged at around 2 to ask “What are you doing tonight?” to which I replied “WATCHING BSG WITH YOU!”

He headed straight over with subs for us for dinner and though we were both full of the tireds and the yawns, we sat up ’till just after midnight watching the last few episodes in Season Two of Battlestar Gallactica. SO GOOD.

These dogs just absolutely love him. At one point he had all three of the furbabes *on his person*. Whenever he comes over, that’s it. I don’t exist anymore. It’s all about Lee.

III. I got up this morning and while I was making coffee, I somehow knocked a wine glass off the counter directly onto my foot. It broke as it landed and nicked me, so the day started out with broken glass, blood, and bandaids. Nooooooooooo! BEFORE COFFEE EVEN!

Oh well. It’s all cleaned up now. Onward.

IV. I have to clean my kitchen today, but other than that, I’m taking the day off to putter and parallel play with friends over Zoom. I’m hoping to have something to show for it so I can get one more post in for today. I also want to pop in on my bloggers and see what they’re up to at some point as well!

V. It’s muggy. I hate muggy.

VI. GG and I had coffee this morning and I’m happy to report that he’s doing really well. He finished training yesterday and starts in his official capacity today and he’s grateful and in good spirits, which means I’m also grateful and in good spirits.

VII. OH OH OH!!! I start pottery classes tomorrow. YES! I am so excited!!! It’s a four-week beginner’s workshop in throwing on the wheel, which has been on my bucket list since I was in junior high! I hope I don’t suck at it!

The studio I’m taking the classes in has COVID protocols in place, so I’m feeling safe-ish. If I like this four-week experience, I’ll sign up for the intermediate workshop and so on. This could lead to studio membership and a hobby that *isn’t work-related* and that thought just *thrills* me.

Wish me luck?! I’ll keep you posted.

VIII. I have political burnout. I watched the debates. I don’t trust anyone. I’m annoyed that an election was called – resentful about it. And I’m trying to muster up some fucks to give, but lo, my field of fucks is fallow.

Still. I’ll vote NDP because if you don’t vote, you can’t whine and I like whining.

IX. I still think about him every day. Maybe I always will. I dunno. But I’m not letting that stop me from doing everything I can to enjoy this one wild, precious life I’ve got. If I learned anything from him, it is that waiting around for the things you really want is no way to live. Spending your life wishing things were different is a crushing waste of time. If you want things to be different, make them different. Ovary up. Grab life by the balls. Do the things.

So I’m doing the things. It isn’t easy, but it feels healthy and I’m ready.

X. I didn’t know if I’d make it through this one. I really didn’t, but we’re a year out now and it appears I have found my way out of the woods. *Fingers crossed*. I’ll keep you posted.


I. Another day of playing catch up in Full Bush and today we’re talking about obsessions. I *love* having obsessions. I love the way shared obsessions cement friendships & love affairs. If I love you, I want us to share at least one or two obsessions. More is gravy, but I gotta have the fries. Renee and I share Stevie Nicks, our familiars (Sybil and Lola were meant to be best friends), Yellowstone, and self-inquiry. Kimi and I share art journaling & mixed media art, witchery, Viking music (and – ahem – actual vikings), bonfires, fooooooooooood, and freedom. Dani and I share a love for shenanigans, foooooooooood, cottage weekends, laughter (the kind that makes tears run down your legs), flowy dresses, and lovers that make us week in the knees while respecting our personal sovereignty. Sarah and I are obsessed with art witchery. I have a group of artist friends who are all equally obsessed with the act of creation. I have a group of colleagues who are all equally obsessed with creating spaces within which creativity can bloom. Our obsessions are like glue, and because we share these obsessions we get exposed to the obsessions we don’t share – yet – and we get to develop new obsessions. Renee introduced me to Yellowstone. OBSESSED. Kimi introduced me to Amsterdam. 42 introduced me to Amigo The Devil and while I am still *really fucking mad at 42* that shared obsession (among others – perfect Ceasars, slow side sex, the healing power of the gaze of a man who is absolutely besotted with you) will be with me for the rest of my days.

II. I’m not going to lie. It still hurts a little to type “42”.

III. But I’m not obsessed with him anymore. Progress. 

IV. These days I’m obsessed with luring Leonard out of hiding after this long, long winter in isolation. I am obsessed with rereading the entire Earth’s Children series (though that last book is a *stinker* – ugh – what was she thinking?). I’m obsessed with metallic watercolours on black gesso. Luna moths. Lip up girls. The way Sybil holds my hand while I’m napping. Napping and the way napmares are awful but also prophetic and revealing. Slow food. Faux leather tights. The Rose of Sharon just outside my door. The proximity of my place to an *actual river*. The way the geese fly overhead every morning and evening. My future. 

V. I know that one could easily swap out the word “Obsessions” and swap in “Passions” but there’s something a little dangerous about the word “Obsessions” that reminds me that it is my life’s work to be as wild as I possibly can be within the boundaries of safety, sanity, integrity, and consensuality. I love being obsessed. I love following my obsessions down whatever rabbit holes they lead me down. I love fully and shamelessly embracing them and sharing them and talking about them.

VI. I am the kind of teacher I am because I am OBSESSED.

VII. I used to think I wanted to be super zen, but I have realized over the last couple of years that I want to be on fire at all times. I want to be lusting. I want to be pursuing. I want to be a little bit maniacally in love with the world. I want to be thriving. I want to have a glint in my eyes that says “This one is trouble.”

VIII. She’s mad but she’s magic. There’s no lie in her fire. – Charles Bukowski.

IX. Just writing this turned me on. Spring fever. Woooosah! Where’s that Viking I ordered up?

X. I may not be ready for love, but I think I might be DTF. *Lights the candles. Scatters the rose petals. Burns Nag Champa. Pours the wine.*

I’m planning to blog every day this month along with a crew of almost 300 other bloggers in my “Artfully Wild Blog Along“. If you’d like to join us, you are most welcome! Both bloggers and readers are invited to join in the fun! The only requirement is that you agree to comment on three blog posts for every blog post you share in our Facebook Group.

Oh, Probably

I. Painted this happy thing live yesterday with my Coven. It is full of the rebellious joy I have been feeling lately.

It’s inspired by a meme that I saw floating around on Facebook which I will include at the end of today’s musings. Perfect, I think, for Full Moon In Leo.

II. Happy Full Moon in Leo, my moon babes. There are soft pink tulips and a lemon poppyseed cake coming to my house so I can properly celebrate with flowers and candles and cakes and wine.

III. There are six massive containers of chicken and lentil soup in my fridge because I’m cooking a lot lately and now I am aware of my deep need for a deep freezer. I’m looking at an apartment sized one, because my place is a hobbit hole, but first I need to clean out the corner of chaos because that’s the only space I’ve got to put it in.

IV. I am loving the idea of having a freezer stocked with soups and stews that I can just take out and reheat as the mood hits. I have only ordered in *once* this year so far because I am really loving cooking again.

V. I had that delicious soup for breakfast and it was *life*.

VI. Therapy today. It was really good. Solid progress is being made on all fronts. I am presently unfuckablewith.

VII. The new White House press secretary is giving me West Wing C.J. Cregg vibes and I AM HERE FOR IT.

VIII. Month end. Omg doom.

IX. My galaxy projector arrived, and I love it.

X. You were here last night in my dreams. You said “I’m not done being mad at you.” 

I chuckled and said “Will you ever be?” 

You said “Oh, probably.” and I woke up crying, because I know you hate being mad. I know you hate feeling anything that isn’t good. But I also know this is part of things, and you may be mad for eons, and that’s okay. I don’t need your permission to love you, and I don’t need you to be present, either.

Besides. I’m not done being mad at you, either. Will I ever be? 

Oh. Probably.