I don't know why I let a couple of months go by without blogging. It's possible that with FB and Twitter and Skype I feel I say (or link to others saying) a lot of what I want to online. I know I've started to write about an issue, or post some pics or rant or rave at times and then I lose momentum. It's not as though I'm a big-time blogger with thousands of folks awaiting my every utterance. Still..I've been blogging for over a decade and it serves some sort of purpose. I don't really need to analyze it too much. I like to talk.
Another beautiful and tragic day. On our soil this time and close to home. It hurt. It still hurts. It hurts when it's elsewhere too, but when you see destruction and death and so many injured in a place you know so intimately it's a betrayal. I can't begin to tease out the many,many conflicting issues the events at the recent Boston Marathon have raised. Patton Oswalt managed to sum things up nicely the day after: "So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny,hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, 'The good outnumber you and we always will.'". And we do. And we must remember to hang onto that goodness and keep spreading it around.
Winter really tried to hang on forever it seemed but spring is finally here. I have tulips and the dogwood is about to bloom an the peonies are starting to rememerge. The forsythia are a shock of yellow (and I don't care how pedestrian they seem to many-we always had them at my house growing up and one of the first things I did when we moved here almost 2 decades ago was plant a row of them by the side of the house).
I've planted some herbs and arugula and am thinking about tomatoes (using hydroponics and nutrients this year if I do). Mostly, I sit out back, watch the birds, read and enjoy the sun and warmth.
I recently began receiving delightful story/letters in the mai: Gray Fox Epistles
Getting real letters,stories,poems and art in the mail makes me so happy. I participate in Postcrossing which is a lot of fun as well. I love social media and the interwebs, but I also love writing with pen and paper and sending it off into the world. really, it's delightful.
Oh let's see, what else has happened? John and I made a trip to western MA and MassMOCA. We had lunch at a great diner (I love the classic Worcester cars).
We stumbled over this house..which I kind of love if it were a single family:
Anyway, speaking of art...so the school year is nearly over and suddenly the reality of my oldest heading off to college this fall is, well, real.Last year Neil Gaiman have an amazing commencement speech. In it he says, "When things get tough, this is what you should do: Make good art. I'm serious. Husband runs off with a politician -- make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by a mutated boa constrictor -- make good art. IRS on your trail -- make good art. Cat exploded -- make good art. Someone on the Internet thinks what you're doing is stupid or evil or it's all been done before -- make good art.". It's so simple and so true. Whenever I've found myself paralyzed with fear, anxiety, sorrow, anger or illness, I try to do something creative because I know it will help me push on. It can be as simple as a doodle or making a collage or quilt or quietly knitting. Sometimes it's the act of digging my hands in the soil and working in the garden. I want Em and her friends to know that no matter what they can always take a breath and create something, sing, dance, paint, whatever and that creation brings a lot of healing with it. I've been sewing a lot more recently and after a dry spell have picked up my knitting again. Just doing that helped push me out of a kind of fugue state brought on by exhaustion from being unwell alot recently.
I'm a big girl. I mean that literally. I am an insulin dependent diabetic and I have arthritis and other joint issues. When I am having acute responses to that I tend to look at my overall size and blame myself and I feel like somehow, if you're the fat person, with an infection or a cold or a bad back or whatever the world just glances and thinks "well what did you expect?". I alternate between being apologetic and being defensive. When I'm defensive I point out that I typically eat less calories a day than many thin people and that I exercise more than many thin people. I don't cut out enough and I probably could exercise more, but at the end of the day I work hard at maintaining my health and ...see there I go starting to explain.
It's a trap women can fall into and a trap fat people can fall into as well. The feeling that you somehow have to justify you're situation or your words or your choices. I don't. I'm pretty assertive most days and pretty good at a fuck-you attitude but I'm human and sometimes spiral into low moments where I just shut down.
Art. In any form, revives me. It connects me to the creative and it reminds me of how cool we can be as a species and then I suddenyly find myself creating moore and exercising more and eating better and smiling more and yeah...Gaiman has a point, MAKE GOOD ART!
- I've declared this season of poetry. I love poetry and feel it often gets short shrift in large part because in school many kids came to despise it. Poetry is meant to be experienced in the moment without the need to overthink it or analyze it to death. Lately I've been rereading Rilke before bedtime as well as the work of newer writers.