labelleizzy: (faire)
Sunday, August 9th, 2020 08:13 pm
my dad would be 81 today, if he were alive.

wow, my life is so different than i imagine it being if he were still around, still sick.
Mom's life, too.

my sister found a photo of him and posted it on fb, and i uploaded it here but can't figure out how to drop it into this post. he was a good looking fella.

if you wanna help a sister out and know how to do the thing with the photo, tell me how in the comments?

thanks.
labelleizzy: (TMI)
Monday, June 22nd, 2020 11:39 am
as i observed to my trainer today on zoom:

really good sex?
is like REALLY good physical therapy.

my leg is stronger, my balance on that side much easier. it feels like some part of my leg that's always tightly wound has... unspooled a bit. relaxed.

like it rarely relaxes but it has now.

Even beyond my shit not hurting today, that was really good sex.

we're still working on our communication around it, but this is the most hopeful i've been about our sex life in years.

we're doing couples therapy, and it seems to really be working because we both have buy-in.

the sexiest thing?
he SHAVED for me. like it was a real date and all.

happy anniversary, love. sixteen more years please!
labelleizzy: (Default)
Wednesday, September 4th, 2019 02:30 pm
From October 12th, 2018, 03:28 pm
Inktober/wordtober/poem a day
The prompt was "Nessie" but I'm taking this somewhere else underwater.

Longing.

Have you ever been shamed for what you craved? Has your longing ever been pointed out as wrong or weird or twisted or broken or an imposition or something unnecessary?

I have. I've been shamed for wanting things, for wanting experiences, for wanting people. And I don't think that was right. And most days I'm okay, most days it feels like I'm over it, but today is not one of those days.

The thing about a longing is it doesn't come out of your mind. It's not a thought. It wells up from deep in your belly, deep in your heart, or dare I say it, spirit or soul. You can't talk yourself out of a longing.

You can hold yourself quiet about it, can keep the surface of your personal pond pristine and peaceful. Still, underneath the surface something lives, something moves, something travels. Something roils the water beneath the surface.

And there are days where I can no longer bear to live on the quiet pristine peaceful surface. On a day like today, I sink below to the Deep places, where the water presses through my flesh and into my bones.

I sink down to the deep mud churned places, where I can finally breathe.



2)
KILROY WAS HERE
(probably 2015)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903659

...and it takes place after the end of the world.

Oh god, we were SO FUCKING STUPID.
So naive.

those long discussions around the campfire or around the HDTV, cold beers in our hands, hot nachos in the fucking microwave, laughing and joking about the fucking "zombie apocalypse". How we would have this job or that job, how we would hole up in a Costco store, because it would have everything we'd need to survive and even enjoy life after the world ended. The skills we already had or could learn quickly in order to be valuable enough to win our way into someone else's fortified stronghold.

We had NO IDEA. We had NO IDEA what we really needed, what we really knew how to do, how fucking SOFT we were.
How much EVERYTHING would hurt. How much WORK just bloody EVERYTHING would take, how much thinking and planning and acquiring.

How much FEAR. Terror. Absolutely shit-your-pants terror.

We used to say, "I'd get a really good knife, and really good boots, and this kind of backpack and that kind of rifle" without really understanding.
What happens when your knife gets dull? Well, you sharpen it. How do you sharpen it? Do you KNOW how? do you have the right tools? can you recognize something else you could improvise as a blade sharpener, if you run across it? and can you use that blade, even dull, to do what you must to survive another day? It's hard work, gutting a carcass, butchering an animal for meat...

Same goes, obviously, for the REST of all our dumb-shit assumptions about how privileged and lucky and SKILLED we were.

What happens if someone TAKES your tools from you? Those books you treasured, that were the reason why you thought you'd gain admission into someone's guarded bolthole? The boots, the knife, even your CLOTHES. What happens if you're not strong enough to protect them? To hold onto them?

Knowing how to brew beer isn't very valuable when there's not enough fucking FOOD. Nobody really cares about booze when they're starving. Knowing how to bake bread is useless, so are gardening skills, if you can't settle down anywhere longer than a week or two for fear of the scavengers. Wildcrafting is a blessing, and I'm glad every day for what I learned from my beloved Girl Scout Leader, of all things. What she taught me when I was fourteen makes the difference now between hungry and starved to death.

I'm always hungry now, I'm always worried about getting hurt bad enough so I can't run anymore. I haven't had any of my meds in over two years, I've got half a tube of neosporin left and fuck-all chance of scoring any more. I'm getting slower, I hurt more often, I'm lonely as fuck. I'll never stop grieving my husband and my home and the comforts I once took for granted, but I just don't have any fucking TIME to FEEL. Every moment has to be spent in working out how am I going to survive this day, food, water, shelter, taking care of myself, whether I can trust anyone at all. Despair would dog my footsteps if Despair could keep up with me. I move fast for an old broad. Fuck that, I move fast period.

What the fuck am I even doing? Who am I even writing this for? I have no idea who's going to read it, but I'm stuck here anyway till it's dark and I can sneak away through the shadows. Might as well, I guess.
heh.
One thing my shitty childhood was good for. Learning how to hide, to sneak, to find all the places nobody would think to look for me. No, I'm not sharing my secrets. Find your own damn bolthole. Oh. Heh. If you're reading this, I guess you DID find your own bolthole, just that I was here first. Hi.

I'd tell you to keep the faith, but I don't think anyone has faith in anything but themselves anymore. I'd tell you to keep up hope, but I know you know that's a stupid, useless thing to say. I can tell you I'm thinking about you, because it's true. Random Stranger Reading This, I hope you're less hungry and less alone than I am. RSRT, I hope you have someone or something to love and take care of. RSRT, try to be kind. My only happy memories from the last two years are of random kindnesses. Someone scratched directions to a waterhole that hadn't gone dry. Someone left bedding in a bolthole. Someone left the last few pieces of fruit on a tree... that might not have been kindness, that might have been someone who was too big to climb out onto those thin whippy branches at the top of the tree... someone little like me could still get up and out to them.

Once, back in the day, I was fat and prosperous and happy. I thought I was ugly, being fat, I had NO fucking IDEA. I was so lucky then. I was loved, and safe, and pampered and treasured, and I had no idea. Now I'm tiny, wiry, strong, and fast. I have had to be, to survive.

Random Stranger Reading this, despite everything, have hope. Life may be shit right now, but if we all keep going, something has GOT to get better. Maybe I've been off my meds too long, and this is a manic episode, maybe it's just I've exhausted all my fear and I don't fucking have time for anything that doesn't keep me going.

I do have hope. I don't know why, but I do.

It's almost dark now, I can barely see to write, so it's time to pack up and head out silently to my next bolthole.

I hope you can pass some hope along to the next person you meet, and I hope they're worthy of you trusting them.

Good luck, and gods' speed to you.

"kilroy"

Logged reading time: 7:30


3)
poem: Building Strength
(2:30)

why is it painful to let go of unhelpful words?
perhaps these were once upon a time, protectors,
the words bookworm, nerd, gimp, weakling.
the belief that if it was hard, I wasn't meant to do it...
if I were meant to do it, it would surely come naturally?

i can't seem to get my glasses clean
to see my own Self in the mirror
to understand my own wingspan
or the extent of my reach
or how far I can leap

hamstrung by my blindness
the persistence of memory
self image of pale, soft, weak, fearful
but there is so much more to me
than what I used to be

Am I strong? Yes. Am I smart? Yes.
Am I capable? Yes. Am I flexible? Yes.
Am I kind? Yes.
Am I soft?

*smile* Yes, I am soft.
Soft like a pillow at naptime, and comfortable.
Soft like silk sheets, and strong like them too.

Am I brave?
Yes.
Could I write were I still fearful?
Yes, ... but I wouldn't show my heart, were I still fearful.

I don't deal in trivialities.
I want the blood, and the bone, and the sweat,
I want the gritted teeth and the grunts of effort.

I step beyond old useless protectors.
I make myself stronger from the inside
I stand strong

I do not need the deflections of nerd, gimp, weakling.

I see the world as it is and as I would have it
and I reach out my hands
to begin shaping the world
A strong, kind, smart, compassionate world

and my strong hands
will shape it

NOTES: Good audience attention and faces.
Kit said, "damn you got some tasty brains!"
Jeff said, "good pieces!"

Jen and Andrew, Sean and Julia, Suzie and Bala, Mindy and Steve, Jeff and Daniel,
Kit and Amy, all attended!!!
labelleizzy: (Default)
Wednesday, September 4th, 2019 02:16 pm
old ghosts (tw: termination of pregnancy)

I was looking in the mirror one day and thought, "I would have none of this if I hadn't ended the pregnancy."

I was 25 years old when I got pregnant.
Can't decide if I should phrase that as "had an unwanted pregnancy", "got impregnated", or what. "got knocked up" isn't quite appropriate for the situation, because I can't afford in telling this story to be too flippant.

it was 1995. My dad had been dead less than a year, after being sick from diabetes and liver damage for several years, declining worse each year.
Mom and I were living together, in the house on Papaya Drive with the 1970's Spanish tile floors and the little fish pond and waterfall in the back yard. I had a great view of the green green green backyard, and had the constant waterfall noise in my ears every night as I fell asleep.


The smell and the feel of that house inform my memories of the time.

Brian and I were having sex and he didn't tell me that the condom broke, till after. Like, it still puzzles me, he says he felt it tearing, he says it was actually kind of painful for him, but he kept going.

He told me afterwards that he thought I wanted him to, to keep going, which yeah, who doesn't wanna get off, but seriously WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE DOESN'T TELL HIS GIRLFRIEND THAT THE CONDOM BROKE. I still ... *makes incoherent rage noises*

You know how I learned that the condom broke? I reached down to hold the top of the condom when he went to pull out, and the horror of it was that all there was to hold was the ring that was the top of it. That was all that was left. … we had to dig inside my vagina and find it to pull it back out….

I could try to put possible reasons on what he was thinking, maybe it was as simple as HE wanted to get off too so he kept going even without the condom.

But I don't really wanna think about his alleged motivations because **I** was the one who wound up pregnant.

I felt the change in my body almost immediately. Within just a few days after the "accident," my boobs got bigger, the nipples got softer and more tender. My pussy and labia were constantly hot and tender, and I just had this internal *awareness* low in my pelvis and belly. And I had so many feelings about all of it.

mostly I came to a sudden and crystallized awareness that, more than not wanting to have to raise a child, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with BRIAN. And I knew immediately, at a gut level, that in some way or another, no matter what else, I'd have to deal with Brian forever if I chose to have this kid.

and it was almost inconceivable anyway, (heh, yeah I went there) to think of having a kid. You spend so much of your early adolescence and twenties controlling your fertility really tightly, worried about the what-if. And sex is mostly fun, mostly meant to be fun, when you're not in a serious relationship and *planning* to have a kid…*

I had done research for a paper in college into medical side effects of being pregnant, it's no kind of easy walk in the park! There's real risk of gestational diabetes, blood pressure problems, varicose veins, digestion issues, likelihood of daily vomiting over months, *massive* mood swings and hormone changes, I mean the number of side effects you have to suffer through for a WANTED pregnancy, not to mention the non-zero risk of DEATH, or single parenthood, or ... all the different ways your children hurt you or break your heart.

That little... blue line on the pregnancy test. Oh my god. Possibly the scariest thing I've ever seen, and I already even KNEW. Like, there was no MISTAKING what my body was doing. I had this swirl of emotions going through my brain and body.


And I left the test on the bathroom counter, under a sheet of newspaper.(back when we still took the paper) Like I had zero idea how to talk to my mom about this. I was terrified I was going to be a disappointment to her, but I knew without thinking that if I *didn't* conceal this test, she would find it and know and help me. (and it turned out that she did find it, and she did help me, which I'll talk about at the end)

I can't even tell you about all the other things I was feeling then because even now, 25 years later, it's still hard thinking about that time in my life; emotional chaos and turmoil, still angry and grieving my father's death, along with everything else. I know I haven't quite forgiven myself for my own ignorance (and what feel like bad-choices when I am being hard on myself).

Though, trust me I do know all about the extenuating circumstances. I know why I made those bad choices especially because I have gotten therapy and done a lot of self work over the last two decades. I can see my own patterns and recognize where those impulses arose from and I don't let that part of myself drive the bus anymore, because I've healed a lot of those childhood injuries, or at least mostly healed them. Largely through talking and writing, both writing the blog and longhand and poetry. All kinds of ways.

I was 25, and Brian was 28. Theoretically that was old enough to know what we wanted, but both of us were dumb and inexperienced in relationships. We'd not really thought and especially not talked about what we wanted at the time or at any time in the future. We were just slinging along together because I think both of us thought we were the best we could do.

But we were old enough to decide if we wanted to have a child together and we met at Tower Cafe in downtown Sacramento to talk about it. about two weeks after the condom broke and a few days after I had taken the test. I'd said "we need to get together and to talk face to face" and he said yes, so we scheduled it. We hadn't even sat down properly at the patio table when Brian said, "You're pregnant, aren't you?" and I said yes. I don't remember exactly how the conversation went but I remember it wasn't a difficult or stressful one.

We were unanimous, that we didn't want to have a child (together), and we were both relieved to find that out. That neither of us had to try and convince the other to keep or to terminate. We were agreed to terminate.

I made the appointment. I had to stay pregnant for a total of eight weeks before the hospital could perform the procedure. I don't remember why that was.

To his credit,(Brian) did take me to the appointment, and did get me home safely.

My mom, and this makes my eyes fill up with tears, had a heating pad, an extra blanket, and she'd set up her bed, the big bed, for me to have a nap. She brought me a bed tray with my favorite tea, some toast with jam, and a little rose-bud in a little vase. I absolutely did cry from that, and everything else.

Brian stayed with me there on the bed until I had the snack and fell asleep. It was dark when I woke up, and he wasn't there anymore, and I was disappointed and angry, but realized there was really only so much I could expect from the guy.

Mom was good to me. No judgment, no anger, just support. She had my back. I had her back. We were a good team back then.

I don't like contemplating alternate universes for this story. Like, the what-if game doesn't work out well for me.

in 1995 I hadn't gone back to school to get a teaching credential.

I hadn't met my first husband, or even the boyfriend before him (who was and is a better human being and more thoughtful and kind than either Brian or my first husband).
I hadn't started my spiritual journey that gives me so much richness and meaning in my life (and which I was turned on to by the boyfriend I mention above)///
I hadn't started getting therapy for my relationship with my dad and my inability to grieve him or to get out of the anger stage of the grief.

My mind shudders away from the idea of having had to raise a kid in the conditions we were living in. Not that those were horrible, but it would have been stressful, hard work. And while I know motherhood is supposed to have its rewards, I just don't even know how I would have coped, without the skills that I have been able to acquire BECAUSE I didn't have a kid...

It's this fork in the road that my life took, and I DEFINITIVELY chose the one path and left the other path behind.

I'm glad I am HERE. I'm glad that THIS is what it is. I'm glad to have Eeyore and my priesthood and Burning Man and a lot of beloved friends. I'm glad to have the writing, and the making and the sewing and the dancing, and the work toward social justice.

The ability to choose when and whether to have a child is HUGE in your ability to determine your life's path. HUGE./// 12 Minutes

I don't have any kind of snappy ending, except that I am grateful that I got the chance to have the choice about whether or not to have a kid, and I will continue to fight for other people's right to chose whether to have a kid or not.

NOTES Performed this on the spoken word stage at center camp, Burning Man 2019 Mon August 26. One woman thanked me and cried. One man told me about, before he knew he was gay, his girlfriend got pregnant, and when she miscarried, they also cuddled in bed with the heating pad. And a couple that were pregnant (8 months) and beautiful "the first one I've carried to term"
But the last person said, "did you do this as a TED talk? It feels familiar" and I said no, it was a blog post and he said "huh well I guess we know what comes next"
SQUEEEEEEEEE

TAGS abortion, actions have consequences, anger, becoming, challenge, children, choice, dad, death, designing my own life, feeling some feelings, feelings, guilt, karma, life is good, making things, mom, open hearted, pagan practice in everyday life, paradigm shift, parent, past lives, pathwork, personal cartography, pregnancy, probably more than you really wanted to , sad, self, self-worth, spirituality, state of the liz, stomping brain weasels, stream of consciousness, taking care of business., truth falling out of my mouth, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, words, spoken word, burning man
labelleizzy: (cats)
Wednesday, April 17th, 2019 04:42 pm
I'm going to outlive this cat. I know it, I knew it, but now it's actually becoming obvious, his health is failing.

I haven't done the no no no tantrum often in my life, certainly it did no good for me to do so as a child...

Have you ever wanted to tackle the Reaper and drag it away from someone you love? Tangle it up in Its own robes, confuse and confound it?

How am I supposed to do this. How do I let, or help him, go across the rainbow bridge?
labelleizzy: (Default)
Sunday, June 10th, 2018 09:28 am
Here's some food for thought.

If we're lucky to live long enough, our bodies will, even MUST start failing us.
That's what bodies DO, they eventually end.

Sometimes it's liver, lungs, heart, or endocrine system, or something else.
Sometimes it's the brain.

Could we all just agree to stop being blame-slinging assholes to people when their bodies fail? Or to people who are sad when someone else's body fails?

K Thanks.
labelleizzy: (Default)
Monday, August 7th, 2017 05:12 pm
Some days my heart just hurts. Like, there's not a damn reason I can think of that it should, it just does, and I have to just suck it up and deal.
labelleizzy: (Scotty)
Saturday, April 15th, 2017 05:54 pm
Today's my little brother's​ deathaversary.
Mom called me a couple of minutes ago. I hadn't truthfully been thinking about it, or him, today...
I have such a good life now. This makes the ... No... TENTH anniversary. Shit. Shit.

I loved him but it feels like I barely knew him.
I don't know what to do with this right now, now it's brought to the surface. I'mma go be productive.
labelleizzy: (strong)
Monday, July 11th, 2016 01:35 pm
Today is a good day.
Today I feel strong and whole.
I wonder if I will ever get over feeling so lucky, so happy about getting myself here.

I could have stayed where my childhood left me, tied up in gender stereotypes and my feelings of inadequacy.
I could have been too afraid to risk the pain inherent in risk and change.

I didn't, and I wasn't.

And I am proud of myself for that.

I say that so infrequently that I wanted to record it, meaning to encourage myself to take pride in my accomplishments more frequently. I slide between being reluctant to ackowledge and outright bragging, the grey space in between is hard for me to find.
Sigh.
Subtlety, I can not haz. Oh well. Knowing yourself counts for something!

Learned the hard way that slow and steady, consistent work is the most important way to make lasting change in my life. (I do know that probably sounds obvious. I'm okay with that, I need to keep saying it to myself, regardless.)

I can do a lot of things now, after healing from injuries, and with long practice, that made me feel less-than broken/wrong, and weird as a child and teenager.

Back then I Made a lot of assumptions about what was normal, and I try not to blame myself for that. Learning that "normal" doesnt exist was actually really useful.

What are the important lessons you have learned about how the world works, and how you fit in to that?
labelleizzy: (bunny writer)
Friday, May 16th, 2014 10:54 pm
I was a school librarian way back during the dialup/AOL days of the internet.
We started the library microlab with three 386 machines in 1995, and at first they weren't networked.
Eventually we acquired 8 newer Mac/Windows Power PC machines, and daisy-chained them with a ninth machine to act as server.
By default I became the IT guy and network admin for the library. I was learning fast, but barely kept two steps ahead of the kids.

I remember when we got internet working properly. Even in '98 and '99, the junior high kids would rather look things up on webpages than use the CD-rom encyclopedias. In retrospect, finally I understand why. They feel so... STATIC. The internet feels *alive* in a way that most books and every encyclopedia I've ever met, simply do not.

I also remember staying late after work, and after I finished tidying up after the kids, I myself would sit down, read email, and surf the net a little.

There was a "meme" (before I understood "memes") which I stumbled across at some point. As I thought about this week's prompt, this page came to my mind's eye, so of course I Googled it. *smile* The Last Page Of The Internet. Hope you've enjoyed your browsing, now turn off your computer and go play outside!

Even fifteen years ago everyone could tell that the internet was a fascinating, roiling, sea of distractions and delicious, delicious data. Distracting.
Even then, it was apparent we would all need reminding to turn off the screen to go outside and play...

There was a bumper sticker on the door of my office in that library. I probably had picked the sticker up in Berkeley, it said in big dark letters, "KILL YOUR TELEVISION". Some kids would read that and argue that they loved their television; others immediately got the point of the message and why I found it so damn funny. Because they did too. But the thing I never would have expected, was to need to think about Killing My Tablet, Phone, and Desktop computer too, from time to time.

The most seductive thing about internet memes? They are in-jokes. You have to have been there. You have to be part of the culture, the subculture, the microsubculture. You have to belong.

And that's part of why memes are so irresistable. Embedded in the joke, is the reminder that you belong.

We're all citizens of the internet. With the rights and privileges thereunto.

but sometimes, you do indeed need to turn off your computer and go outside.

*click*

This is my home game entry for [livejournal.com profile] therealljidol. The prompt for the week is "Keep calm and end this meme."
labelleizzy: (growing older)
Wednesday, May 8th, 2013 03:15 pm
Hadn't been to visit a cemetery for many years. Got an artistic wild hair to go for a walk through one in my neighborhood today.
Really interesting. Gravestones have *fashions*. You could study the gravestone styles in a given graveyard and then learn more about artistic styles of a particular decade or era. That could be very fun.

Beautiful huge trees in this particular cemetery. Well established. One magnolia tree had roots which had encroached upon and embraced a particular black marble family marker. It was lovely, and oddly reassuring to me. (I've no idea if that makes sense to anyone who's not me.)

We don't even have any TRULY old grave markers, this area has only been settled by the kind of folks who mark their graves with tombstones, for about 200 years. And yet I came away thinking two contradictory things.

One, humans are mayflies. We are born, we live, we die, and then we are dead for a *really* long time. Same as we weren't born, for a *really long time...
Two, humans can make a giant impact on the world. Why are more of us NOT doing so? NOT improving the world, not helping other humans to live happier, healthier, more loving and compassionate lives? (mainly, WHY AM *I* not doing more to improve the world?)
labelleizzy: (life change boogie)
Saturday, September 1st, 2012 08:34 pm

THIS is from the comic Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal. They will break your mind, sometimes in good ways.



labelleizzy: (Dionysos)
Tuesday, August 7th, 2012 10:12 pm
Dinner helps everything be better.
Steak, tater tots, a lovely Zinfandel, some blueberries, should all help with my recent case of anemia.

Made it to the gym tonight!
Not a super long session, but I did some cardio, some weights (I have to eat greens and fruit only before next session, I ate buttered rice with cheese and herbs and got a very acid stomach) and finished up with light stretching.

Been over a week since my last gym visit, and the bod has been complaining about the lack. Got turned on to the chance of a blues dance event not far from here, every Thursday. I've never done blues dancing before, though I've watched others dance ( thinking of [livejournal.com profile] tshuma and [livejournal.com profile] dougygyro at Lark camp, and it's lovely, flirtacious, and sensual. Should be great, though taxing on thigh muscles.

Gotta date tomorrow. Really looking forward to it.

More dating, more dancing. Life is good.
labelleizzy: (poly)
Thursday, January 12th, 2012 09:39 pm
I would dance you a love letter
...but my steps are no longer sure.

I would sing you a love letter but
...my voice is hoarse with winter coughing...

and I could paint you a love letter
...once my skills are up to the task,

or I could play you a love letter, although
my fingers don't yet find the notes.

Instead, I shall tell you the truth.

For the truth is that you are beautiful
and kind
and worthy of love;

that the crocuses and snowdrops about to break the surface of the earth
are already seeking to love you;

that the sun is best pleased at the sight of you,

and the moon, sailing by, contemplates your visage with as much wonder as you contemplate hers.

Trees dig their roots in for you.
Daffodils blossom, and crows and foxes sing for you.
Even the dewdrops sparkle for you...

You are eminently lovable, and you are deeply loved.

<3<3<3
labelleizzy: (cats)
Tuesday, August 16th, 2011 11:35 am
Today my Big Kitty (his name is Otter) invited me to come Play With The Animated String in his usual fashion, as is usual, I heard him coming in his distinctive way:

"Mwoo? Mwew! Mwoo! Mwoo? Mwew!" (drop string just barely out of reach) "Mrrroo! Yow! Meow!"

*bent over laughing*

This kills me every time. You can hear him coming and know exactly what he's up to because he MEOWS THROUGH THE STRING IN HIS TEETH.



We played for about five minutes. Boy I am glad I cleared that spot at the top of the stairs by the bookshelves; it is shaping up to be *excellent* cat-play space, just outside our bedroom. I piled all his strings there when I was cleaning, and he's finding it very convenient so that when he's ready to play, he can just PLAY.

And then he got an urgent cat-telegram and ran downstairs to gaze eagerly into the garden for his response.

...I have no idea, I just work here.
labelleizzy: (Yay)
Tuesday, March 8th, 2011 04:13 pm
SACRED ADVERTISEMENT
More and more creative people find they do their best work when they're feeling healthy and secure. We know writers who no longer need to be drunk or in agony in order to shed the numbness of their daily routine and tap into the full powers of their imagination. We have filmmaker friends whose best work flows not from the depths of alienated self-doubt but rather from the heights of well-earned bliss. Singer-songwriter P.J. Harvey is the patron saint of this new breed. "When I'm contented, I'm more open to receiving a lot of inspiration," she has testified. "I'm most creative when I feel safe and happy.
labelleizzy: (jump for joy)
Thursday, November 25th, 2010 11:53 am
Thankful:

1) gorgeous crisp clear sunny day
2) art supplies
3) idea for art that Jeff has and wants to explore
4) tons of food in the fridge and freezer and pantry
5) friends who love me
6) family who love me (even though I'm weird...! they haven't said that for awhile though.)
7) warm cozy clothes
8) warm soft cozy bed
9) better-than-decent health, better than decent body
10) good brain that works on solutions in conjunction with heart and body
11) tea (mmm tea, time to go boil a kettle)
12) beautiful things in my life like movies, furniture, jewelry, this house
13) my cats (of COURSE my cats are #13!)
14) the sea, the sky, the trees, the earth, the flame - all so beautiful and so different!
15) my vegetable garden
16) medical insurance (fucked up that this is something to be thankful for instead of everyone just being covered!)
17) texture of objects - my teacup, my sweater, this desk, my cat's fur...
18) peace I've found since figuring my shit out and uprooting the unhealthy stuff in my heart
19) clarity of thinking since #18
20) children I get to work with
21) dedicated teachers and students I get to work with
22) cool people I have yet to meet(!)
23) adventures
24) learning new stuff (and getting frustrated and figuring it out)
25) the internet and all the friends I have found in it
26) really good pens and crisp strong paper
27) self-knowledge
28) intuition and having learned to trust it
29) breakfast at 11:45 am
30) and breakfast for dinner last night =)
31) the bike friendly town I live in which also has decent public transit
32) learning new things about how my body works in particular (see #24)
33) toast with cream cheese and fig spread (and all the other tasty foods!)
34) autumn leaves backlit by the descending sun
35) sunlight breaking through the clouds during a rainshower and how the world glows
36) my faith system and the deep thorough nourishment it brings me
37) rereading favorite beloved books (I just found Freckles on Google Books! I think I'm going to cry with happiness!)
38) Everyone reading this. You are appreciated and loved.
39) Second chances
40) Everyone who ever extended a hand or said a kind word when I was down. You made a difference.
41) A fresh and shiny new year to learn, love, grow, work, and change the world for the better.

Love,
Liz