I decided my blog is good for me, and I like adding to it, and it helps me see myself in a beautiful light. As much meaning inside it as I hoped, after taking a look at the whole thing this past week with a slightly different perspective. A different knowing and feel for it, a better respect and love for it. As well, I still have plenty to add to it. Things (sketchbooks, journal things, entries of interest) to add as I promised to myself, and my goal not yet accomplished of taking pictures of every sketch and art thing I care about having made. For the reason that I can leave it in a safe place regardless of fire or flood and will always hold a true form of my nature, acting as a kind of a North Star, so I never forget which way home is – expressed innocently and with love, through time and space. Simple and wholesome and stationary at its core and connected to everything and everyone I ever loved in my life. With the exception of a major solar flare happening to us here on Earth, it should live on forever.
I started an embroidery project and listened to tons of wonderful old songs (and some new) today.
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.” – Jamie Anderson
I stumbled across my brother’s obituary from 2003. I wasn’t expecting to. And…seeing my name, as his surviving sister, well it wasn’t just that…Time just moves us all, gently into the stars. Into the universe. Being alive is just floating on the surface of it all, like a mosquito stands on the water, lives on the water. Unaffected by gravity against the mass of the resistance of liquid hydrogen beneath it, it never knows and never lives a life of knowing the within-ness of water. So like it, the mosquito, are we. Knowingly connected, yet oblivious to what this means. Can’t know and not meant to know. Unimportant in life, yet crucial to existence.
Trying things: sometimes nothing comes of it, you feel disappointed, you feel your effort was a pointless failure. Sometimes, you strike gold.
Life is really hard. Very hard for a lot of people right now. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar or a psychopathic narcissist. And it is in that person, who says nothing is going wrong and arms and fingers aren’t getting pinched in chains, that is also a thief. I’m very sorry for everyone. I know it is shit. Feels like an old age for me right now. Tired; bored; sad; and then glowing in the sun and watching everyone you care about seem to glow in the sun of the dusk of the last day. The beautiful blue-green-and-indigo of twilight. But I long for a day long gone when “twilight” wasn’t associated with those stupid fucking trash books. Being between worlds means that you understand something of both worlds (and the more time that passes, the more wisdom you inevitably attain (I gain most of my life’s knowledge through pain). It’s a great way to ensure the structures built upon a firm foundation remain strong and withstanding of forces beyond our control. To corrupt the smooth finish of a Fine and Beautiful Thing with bolts and screws, pillars and weighted, dense components makes these things worthy of standing, being as strong as they can be.
I just can’t push the “Publish” button in this one. It’s like I’m taking a deep breath in, but also like…like I don’t want to be public in this way anymore? I’m not sure, so maybe I’m actually holding my breath, not taking much in at all. I am busy, and so in a way perhaps my flow is going in stops and starts and it feels odd. maybe the way things are going I’m being less artful here and so it feels too personal and therefor odd to just send conscious thoughts out randomly into the world without good, structured meaning underneath it? I’m really not sure! I guess I’ll just hit ‘publish’ and go from tomorrow’s observations.