Someone I like and know at work was talking to me about their past trauma in the middle of their adulthood. I took notes afterward because I was compelled by his story and my understanding of it. This was in a notebook and probably discussed in 2018 or 19 with him, but I took a picture of the page in April of 2020. (Maybe someday I’ll be grateful for the context of this entry, eh? Afterall, I kept trying to figure out what JR meant at the top. Then I remembered this wasn’t about me or for me. Yet, of course it is always about me and eventually for me).

The way the light bounced around in side this deeply dark violet crystal. It always looks near-black and I’ve never seen it so glowy before.
This weekend I arranged some subtle magic by creating altars, arranging foci, triangulating and intuiting feng-shui.

With my drum I disrupt the still energies inside the material confines of the walls of my home and body, too. When I dust the house and objects, I clear space for fresh movement and renewed spirit to act. Where dust settles, there is work to do; physically and mentally.

This legit made me cry, it is one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen. I hope this link lasts forever:

In Brazil, it is considered a great honor to receive the first slice of birthday cake. This kind of open-heartedness. WTF is wrong with us? This is missing in the world. There should be a lot more of it, but we get sick. We get really sick.

I just feel lit up inside when I talk to my brother, Dave, in a way that makes me feel safe, peaceful, excited, happy, energized, and loved. I’m so glad I got to have a brother like Dave. Long live Dave! He was the definitely my first friend and I’ve never not known him. People can replace love, but some relationships can never be replaced because of the special harmony and resonance. It’s funny, I think what me and Dave share deeply is our sense of humor about it all.

Right Now, 1/19/21. My music is in a strange, numbing recycling of sound right now. What does this mean? It happens, in life it has happened many times, but what it prophesizes…I do not remember.

It’s Tuesday, but it feels like 1942.

My neighbor’s got a food delivery. I wonder how lonely and unloved some people must feel, but they’ve just got to be loved. How many unloved-by-anyone people are there out there? Like, literally the people who are loved by NO LIVING PERSON. The thought fills me with despair and a feeling of powerlessness. I hate thinking about other people, but it’s all I ever think about.

I feel like it’s been a long time since I’ve been out in the desert and enjoyed the shit out of it. It’s like my soul isn’t really with me – yikes, I feel very upset thinking that statement, but that is how confused I am about it. Winter just began, and it feels so barren and wide, like a parking lot, old and crumbling, crawling with that grass that grows better the worse you treat it. Not crabgrass, the other one that spreads like a spiderweb. Once you get it, you will never get rid of it.

Where was I.

I just danced to this and I feel better. Dancing makes me feel better. In another life, I would like to be a dancer, one who’s practiced since she was a child (born, of course, as a child who loves dancing as an art-form).


I am afraid, too. I see in myself the spaces filled by chaos and the places like islands over time, once there now gone. Taken out, swallowed up by the waves of a few large storms. So fragile are we. Seeing it is like looking into something so creepily like an abyss, but quick in time, like a meteor burning as it enters the atmosphere. Here, then gone. Beautiful and bright, and then a remembrance with only a hint of sensation. Gone.

My love is a swamp. It isn’t very deep but it does go on forever.

I will start using different backgrounds besides the red peacock table cloth from here on. I think I’d like some variety in the behind-the-scenes-of-subject-matter’s.

Coffee and dancing. Need more frequency of.

So far, 2021 is extraordinarily creepy. I feel like it is like walking in a strange dream on the edge of a foggy nightmare. Everything is fine, it’s just scary, strange, and I’m not so sure about any specific kind of outcome. I kind of want to get hit by a truck, but the thought of peeps crying hard at my graveside make me reconsider. Ok, god, I’ll stick it out. Fuck you.

profound change begins today.

The dawn is beautiful, here I sit. I came to say good-bye after long thinking of ending this blog and ‘Jen Crow’, not my real name, not anything other than a pseudonym. A mask to wear so I can feel like I am in the world but still private and protected. But this is the name I chose and once upon a time it made sense.

I decided after long thinking, as I said, to come here and say good-bye and restart an older blog whose name, Sacred Desert, denotes an emptyness I feel a great expansive comfort in. But I opened this silly art-dump, thought-run-on’s up and there’s just too much unfinished here. I had a goal of posting all of my artworks that are in boxes and sketchbooks, and I haven’t finished that at all. After all, this blog is a place of safe storage that doesn’t require a password. Someday, someone will find it, perhaps me in some future incarnation; and, I will feel a strange, inexplicable pull toward this unexplainable connection, the non-sense ringing bells, etc.

So, why profoundly changing today? Yesterday was, in a way, the last day of a kind of life I’ve been living for many years. Today begins something absolutely unknown to me. Moving on, for sure, in a huge way. Must keep head up, must move on.

What I’m looking forward to the most is being altered by the beingness of other people. The risk, obviously, is that it will be intense for me. Possibly negative and if that is the case, I will have to decide if I am the rock or if I am floating. Aha, I’ve had an epiphany: I definitely want to be the floater. I’ve been a rock too fucking long and though I’ve been smoothed down and no part of me has been weakened, I am smaller for it. Fine, for I am now a polished stone, and gazing upon myself I now see more easily into myself, and smaller, refined, simpler, maybe…I am more beautiful? No, not more beautiful…I don’t know. I’m just not done. Just not done here.

I love you so much Bonnie, Tonya; even you, Vickie.

Charles and Joseph, I know I didn’t say good-bye. I will write you all a letter to let you know how much I appreciate your beautiful souls. I will paint a watercolor rainbow on a blank card and you’ll know I really care about you.

Lt. Q, I too regret the work friendship we surely would have had. Though I think your religious and conspiracy theories are insane, I just dig you and I think we should go to Plantworld together. You would love it, just like I said. You’ll think it’s peaceful, beautiful, and amazing. I think it’s really cool you gave cats a try and are delighted by them. You saved a couple cats, too. You are an interesting baseball-bat of a person.

Ok then. Off to my new life. I feel very good about this. VERY! 😀

I have a box of artworks next to me. I’m going to work on posting that so I can put it away and free up space for my physical journals. I need a small table right here. I’m going to go thrift-store hunt for one very soon! That will be fun! Writing that down now.

Author: Jen Crow

©Jen Crow. Be sure to ask for permission to use my artwork or photos. I warmly welcome comments and questions.

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