Thursday Doors – January 18, 2018

Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors

I am amazed at the number of door lovers!!! This infatuation reminds me when I was contemplating names for my first child. No one had named their child Emily in ages, and wanting a unique name along with a poetic significance, I declared my first born child to be Emily. And for ten years after, Emily was the #1 name in the United States. The name remains popular but not to the extent it was from 1990-2000.

These are pretty average doors. And a window. Right?

Perhaps. They mean a tremendous amount to me. They house numerous family stories. This room was once my daughter’s bedroom until she went to college, then moved to Boston, whereupon it became my writing room filled to the brim with my words, thoughts and ideas for future words and thoughts. And paints, fabrics, cameras, and color.

Now it is emptied of me and awaits a new history. I think I will leave a token of appreciation for the new residents… Maybe a new blogger will move in and share their space with us?

*The color of the walls is Sherwin Williams Anew Gray and the flooring is Spiced Oak. All brand new for a future family.

December 22, 2017

Photo modified with Pic Collage

Beware the sun setting. This encourages the claws to rise within.

Early this morning i was doing well. It is now mid-day. I feel myself sailing off into the abyss.

This abyss is not heaven. Its hell on steroids. Whether its the packing up of my beloved writing room, or the thought of getting on an airplane Sunday morning, my mind is working up into quite a frenzy.

It has been days of this craze. I am unsure where it stems from. But it has arrived. And I best chill or I will be so agitated nothing will scrape me off the walls.

January 2, 2018

I am quite fearful of sharing the dark existence but on occasion it slips and sails. I am safely back into my cocoon. Well, what was my home. This once rapturous dwelling now expects me to hurry up and wear my wings indefinitely. Be vigilant and ready for take-off. I much rather undress and retire. Lie wistfully contemplating the atmosphere. The soul immersed in each layer, teetering between and through.

So how will my blog look going into 2018. I wish i knew. I have no idea. It most likely will stay this raw, unedited mess that lacks direction. On a whim i may post my photos. Or get ambitious and finish my quilts. Or unpack my paints and create worlds unknown to most.

Or….✍🏼🧡

she never remembers

no matter -how

many times did you tell her

you love and adore

the way she loves you back?

she always tells you

her disease possesses

the curved back, spread

skies and deeper still

the open thighs. no matter,

you have lost her eyes

as she asks for the night

wrapped in television screen

of what might have been

between you.

Not going to dirty up my life…

Refuse me -and

my words, you treat them like daggers

homeless thoughts with nowhere to perch

they need rest, a safe place to sleep. Tonight,

my mind in a whirl and only pills can stop the twirl

swallowed with a bottle of Sailor Jerry’s rum -Yum!

regrets in the morning always come!

Still no plan to conquer these thoughts

memories caught. I have pocketfuls

reach in, they grab my hand -won’t release, until

I take one out, massage, breathe in.

Not going to dirty up my life, but I always do

slyly creep into sleep and vanish once again.

School on Wheels 


Just two weeks left of tutoring and I already miss Heaven, Hayden, Bently and DeAnthony. Us tutors invited the parents or guardians to come view their child’s masterpieces. We hope they show up because these kiddos are so proud of their art. So much so they can barely stand to wait and bring the creations home, wherever home may be.

Homeless

standing on street corners
holding signs, smiling through hunger
our eyes meet
i feel uncomfortable
what can i say
hand him a dollar
walk on my way

what easy solution exists?
none, when they choose street life
mental illness
chance encounter
he speaks of quantum physics
claims to have solved
time and space in minutes
calls us yuppies
a bygone ’80’s term

says he travels by day
Colorado, Texas
perhaps he will stay -here
with no family
they have gone their own ways
i wonder if they care
he unwilling to see
their love is real
he packs his machete and change of clothes.

(Met Jessie in Bloomington during our stay at McCormick Creek State Park. My husband and I sat at a camp fire conversing with Jessie and two other vagabonds. All three were homeless, Eddie, retired military and Ernie, recently released from prison, looking to start new and heading to Florida. They hadn’t invited Jessie feeling he was too unstable.)

McCormick Creek State Park 5/8/2017

Trail 5 is 2 miles through moderate terrain.  The White River had flooded so the creek was high and walking the 2 miles we encountered high water.  I had not seen Wolf Cave before and wanted to crawl through but it was too wet, not to mention it was really dark.  Claustrophobia could easily set in.  Perhaps another day.

capsized

Seek knowledge of multiple aspects in life; relationships are complicated.
img_6212-2
Capsized. Off coast of Monhegan Island, ME May 2016

I feel a need
explain myself, hoping misconceptions
do not blur the mirror between our faces.
Our breath fogging up the air.

Waves are what you believe.
Rowing towards another
smooth sailing desired
frantically head towards the shore.

Prepare for the storm
learn navigation, obstacles overcome
hide in the corner, drowning all senses
to trust or mistrust.

Cheating ourselves of courage
of what could be
love atop a mountain view
or mourning under sea.

Ocean rowing is very much what you make it. Rowing technique is pretty irrelevant on the ocean. It’s the psychology that’s important.   –Roz Savage

A child capsized before they realize they have wings, a poor prognosis to rise above. Faulty  attachment leads to mistrust. See the hollow eyes looking back at you? What to do?

There are approximately 500,000 children in the United States in foster care. How else could a heart be broken? Children sinking in a great fissure of happiness and despair. There is hope. A nugget of faith to embrace. A chance to grasp what knowledge gives a person to soar above the noise and reach a point of need. A life purpose I sail towards, navigating bumps and bruises, of my own, as I witness sadness beyond the horizons. Yet I keep believing.  One child saved is worth my life. One smile worth more than gold and gems.

In a sense I travel the confines of another mind. That can freak people out. Who dare look within? I blame no one. I avoided it but now I am grateful to that person who listened. No matter how pathetic I sounded, he rode the waves out. I imagine I put fear into his mind. The multiple thoughts of suicide; knives, ropes and pills. It would cause anyone panic. Towards the end, I thanked him profusely. The mending of multiple people inside that realized only the one who could mentally handle what happened. Essentially sparing others the need to fathom the horror.
I know this all sounds crazy. I feel crazy some days. Especially when I become so open to others I barely know. In a sense hiding behind this screen. Fleeing when I have had enough. I know that as long as the words remain within and I have yet to let them go I will continue to post (warning some posts will be dark and understand if you unfollow) and read and chug along this funny thing called “life”. Ahhhh, then to understand death. Not sure I have enough time to go that far. Be well.

Thanks for reading. Happy to be a Word Press blogger. Enjoying  my time. And all that.  –Jeanne