My sister just brought me a new toy for my art. This is going to take me a few days to get it hooked up to play with. (Especially when I have my computer in a state of disarray) Still I am so excited and wanted to share this news with y’all.
My great grandparents are buried in Arlington National Cemetery. My Great Grandfather was one of Black Jack Pershing’s Own. My family is filled with many who served. Today in America we honor those who served and are gone. (Veteran’s Day is for the living, Memorial Day is for the dead.) Today…I remember my Great Grandparents.
FroggY!!!
Happy Ostara! Also known as the Spring equinox. Chicks seemed like a good art idea to celebrate with.
What do I do when I can’t sleep or write? Come up with future Poetry Volume titles and design covers for them….
It’s Sunday. I usually do my publishing/blog/writing based responsibilities on Sunday… but it is also Joe’s birthday. So, I am squeezing in what I can before I go to bed. Then I will be spending the day with him and trying to get the rest of the week playing catch up. Next week I will be AWOL as the 13th is my day.
I actually have ideas for this week, mostly. Wednesday is the iffy…but I may come up with something by the time I get there.
If I find that I am feeling froggy I might try to do something after the 13th as far as posts but regardless I will return to work on the following week.
Also…in addition to my own release of Internal Battlefields, my middle child, NK Xero, is looking at releasing a poetry book in April. (With Fae Corps Publishing of course). Also I am hoping to do the same thing I usually do and post a daily poem. I’m hoping to try to do some new ones ☺️
Joe’s sister gave me some watercolor sharpies. This is the test I did for them. They are wonderful when you get them started… but they are difficult to get started. I do love new tools though.
Okay… the above art is not mine but the canvas is…lol that is my soon to be 19 year old about 5 years ago. The question is do you consider face painting an art? In the same vein as tattoo work?
So my daughter and I were talking. I told her I was happy that she was comfortable enough when the kitchen flooded to cuss at me. To me that feels like she was able to express herself without worrying that I would be angry about it. I am big on self expression, which should surprise no one. She said that her therapist encouraged her to use whatever language she felt the need to express the thoughts in her head. *This is where I should note that we really don’t know any other language except American English. We know a few smattering of words in other languages, but not enough to be a fluency of it’s own…but swearing…well…yeah We swear like sailors around here. She mentioned that my mom had said that swearing shows a lack of intelligence. I so completely disagree. I think that it often is looked down upon, but there are times when a good creative swear (note I said creative) shows more intelligence than not. And not always does the swear have to be dirty. One of my favorites is a foreign (for me) word that means shame on you.
I have tried to make my home a place that my kids can call to express anything. I don’t judge them for speaking their minds. They can literally tell me anything. I am their safe space. For me that is what home should be. It is not what all of us had.
I was going to do the usual poetry update today…but my kitchen sink busted last night…well a piece of it did. We have a hose attachment that allows us directly to use water (my dishwasher is a portable) and the hose busted. It is not going to be an expensive fix. Just was a panic at 2 in the morning because of the flooded kitchen. It got me thinking, much as most incidents like that do.
My daughter was the one who had found the flooded kitchen, and bless her she immediately went to work cleaning up the mess. She sent me messages to wake me up. She was comfortable enough to curse at me for not answering the phone (I was actually in a deep sleep for a change). I wonder if I would have ever been so with my mom.
We had a conversation while we were stuck at Walmart about what our favorite dinosaur was (hers is a Saurolophus, mine has always been a triceratops) and I adore the little things that I can get to share with her. (The dinosaur conversation was initiated due to a figit toy she had in her purse. A club tailed dino filled with sand that can be manipulated various ways.)
I don’t remember ever being comfortable enough talking to my mom about anything. My doctor finds my mom and I to be a funny topic. I told her (doctor) that My mom still is blaming me for a virus I had as a teenager. I had infantigo when I was around 11 or 12. Mom is still convinced that I caused it by picking at it. And even though I am in my late 40’s brought it up as I was going to cause myself to get it again. The doctor thinks it’s funny. It is a bit of the epiphany for me.
I always expect my daughter to be amazing. Even if she has a bad day, she is going to be amazing. Nothing can change my mind on that. My mom expects the worst about me. She always has, always will… and I have to stop letting her voice color my self view I have spent 47 years trying to be good enough for a woman who is never going to see me as adequate. Time to change my aim.
Pattimouse 