Posted in Art, Musings, Photography

Opinions Shattered

What makes you think your right? Isn’t life too complicated to think we can sum it up in a few words. Simplicity soothes our ego but to what disaster do we fall victim to our narrow understanding of others. Blame and finger pointing our game?

Little Face Alexander Calder, 1943, Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago

I like to believe my personal statements are absolute truth. The danger is feeling proud and relishing in everyone telling me how smart i am. Shouldn’t we deny ourselves some satisfaction?

Humble feasts are important to feed upon.

While at the Museum of Contemporary Art, a little girl stood with her mother, looking at the piece posted above. The mother asked the girl if she liked it. The little girl replied, “It scares me.” And off they took.

I stood there thinking how many people scare me. The know-it-alls with wisdom spewing from empty hearts. No glance my way, for whatever reason.

I believe we should consider Murphy’s Law and every exception to the rule. It is great if others agree with us. Fantastic if they don’t. Right? Because then we have something to talk about, discover and learn together. Remember what we thought was flat, was round and what was heavy, perhaps while carrying around our child for months, was actually lighter than first perceived. It was our weariness, not theirs, that made life disagreeable for us.

We all want to feel good about ourselves. If it helps to believe your right, get lost in your thoughts. Just don’t hate me when i disagree. This is when truth is finally fully unmasked in everyone.

When we finally realize we are all made of found parts; pieces here. Notions there. Button noses and fake hair. Is when we begin to add the beautiful decorative pieces of ourselves to form full humanity.

Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago. I have named it Snow Day in Eternal Sunshine.

Posted in Musings

Success

We can’t live alone but are expected to push forward in our own will.

We can be rallied but we can’t be tied to string and pulled.

Posted in Musings, Photography

Indulgence

My youngest daughter loves fashion and i am quite ambiguous towards it. Ok? i can be just about anything you want me to be and i do love to get dressed up, but rarely. Comfy is my thing.

The last time we went to Sephora, her absolute bestest place to buy cosmetics, i tried on lipstick. The newest trend is dark and if i ever use any its sheer and then i put on Sepia and thought 💭

<<
. So selfies? Really? Ah, the indulgence of spreading my face half-way around the world… maybe i will circle the globe in 80 days without even setting my feet outdoors. My daughter laughs at me. "Welcome to the world! My world, momma. Hear me? See me?"

"Yes, child. I do."

——

Shouldn't i be happy? i am so self-conscious i can't be happy. i suppose in a way this giant… actually hugely enormous feat of plastering my image on my blog today says so much that is hidden behind my eyes. If you could read my mind i wouldn't bother to post this God-forsaken girl's face… yes me, my face, here and now! Oh, please don't say you read minds!

—–

I had belief. Once.

Yes, once upon a time i believed. In everything. Now i am absolutely catatonic about anything. Making decisions for me is equivalent to wrestling a cactus and as i recall cactus needles do not waste time drawing blood.

Grant me this favor and let me revel in this rare occasion while i marvel at the blood's trickle, watch the dust ascend on the beams splayed through glass. It is here i find happy. The atmosphere demonstrates silence. There are no whirls, swirls or gadgets moving inside. The scene is perfect. And then God declared He was happy too.

—–

i should be grateful to all who bother to read my blog. After all, who am i? A year ago i proclaimed all was well as i wrote my manifesto… The Evolution of Jeanne. Inside i know i am chaos. Can confidentially declare myself unwell, even though years ago i fought valiantly against his diagnosis. “That’s not me your talking about. Its someone else!! i am fine!!”

How’s that for making friends? i watched him run, along with everyone else, as fast or faster than hell descending from heaven, the devil having been evicted for eternity. i realize the devil dwells in the hall of scandalous shame and degradation and i am heading in that direction.

——

No, i don’t need your help. i’m sufficiently capable of killing myself, on most days, when i am numb to this pain. Once i start feeling again, and on the rare occasions where and when it actually feels good to have the sun saturate me with happy…

Until we meet again, if you dare bother to return to read my words. i know i will be back… this blog keeps me alive.<<
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Posted in Musings, Photography

Cursed

Is it the curse of a new year that begs us to introspection and compare ourselves to others? I honestly am having a love/hate relationship with all of life. I am genuinely happy i am here, breathing and writing and reading other’s blogs. I am also genuinely sad at how little i can do to make the world better for those hurting. With every step i take i feel the anguish of this world all the while marveling at each person’s ability to also take another step.

I want to be angry. But being angry does not make me feel much better. Oh! For a minute i feel vindicated. But then realize how little i truly understand. Am i so childlike and as innocent as i pretend? Did i not rue the day my brother was forced onto me? I was perfectly happy until he showed up. Then i had to share everything!! My toys were his toys and actually more his toys because out of anger, i gave them to him. If i cant have them all to myself, then i don’t want them. Lucky for me, he did not want them either. Looking back, he only wanted to be loved.

Material things bring nothing and take everything away from our hearts. Oh! what I wouldn’t do to have my brother back!

Posted in Musings

Six Word Story

Without readers, what are writers worth?

May i say, it seems only natural to thank all the lovely people in the blogosphere. This blog was started as a conversation with the vast unknown. The surprise is the connectivity that slowly occurred. And occurs.

I haven’t bothered to count the years. It’s been many. I allowed a small piece of me to emerge. People are much too complex to truly understand another. We cannot possibly hope to solve our problems, in ourselves or around us. What i found is we spread peace by listening.

I hear you read my words, as i read them back to myself. There exists a glimmer, a smile, a tear. On occasion, a cringe, or no interaction at all. I ask, where is the meaning here?

As i consider tomorrow, i cringe. If i am alive, i will continue to write. To write is to breathe for me. Each word alive until it lies on the paper. Once laid, resurrected or buried.

I admit, i am a lazy writer. Whatever pops into my head i lay down. Give it away. Extend permission to you, to do with it what you must.

For me, I acknowledge past words can (should) be crafted better. Or omitted all together. I believe i am growing as a writer. I am learning to ask myself “Did i solely write this to release emotion? Or is there a greater message?”

My writing challenge for 2018 is to be more cognizant of my thoughts. Do my words help or harm, me and you? Are my thoughts rubbish, even worth penning? I admit, the words i write strike fear in my heart. This is my journey. After all. Thank you for inviting me in.

i hope you continue to read my words, often raw and unedited. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Happy writing, J ✍️

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e, with no name, is one of my companions along for this ride. On his wings he holds a few American authors. Dickinson. Alcott. Wharton. Frost. Missing would be Plath and Henry James. And then there is Woolf.

Posted in Poetry

You -there

puckered up, all hot and steamy

pulling boys all taut and dreamy

think you have the world -mountains

crumbling. Your ceiling coming down

the walls leaning -your preening,

you thought your eyes saw it all.

Magic? Maybe, baby

but my intuition tells me

your crying tonight.

Posted in Poetry

I can’t let you go.
I refuse to give you up.

I am free. There is no one thing -particulars?

I don’t confess

I like this; I dont like that. -See

the bottom of the ocean travels way down -deep

and this love of ours won’t bless my sleep

because i live my life

the way i want

your done -taking me over.

I can’t let you go.
I refuse to give you up.

I. Am. Not.