Monday, July 18, 2011

The DJ

“It’s not love for music, it’s a passion, and it goes beyond liking, and beyond a hobby, it’s about a way of living… Music is essential for my life.” – Armin Van Buuren

There's just something about a guy with passion... any passion. I attest that to the unexplained attraction to muscisians, artists, athletes. Part of the stereotypical attraction has to go with a guy that can really explain something with such a great passion and fever that makes the girl want to be the canvas he uses, the guitar in his hands, the mitt over his hand, or in my case the sound board under his fingers.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Stolen kisses require an accomplice

So I'm dating... which is always a bit odd for me. So when I'm fuzzy I do what every person my age does... Google It. Apparently its a popular subject... among men? So many pages dedicated to helping a guy navigate a single mom... I didn't realize we were so difficult?

The basics of the advice I found for potential suitors is: we're a bunch of controlling, straight-forward, spitfires, who may want you but don't really need you. Be patient, understand we're completely guarded, and if you give us time we may come around.

Which is true,well sort of. Its more about protecting ourselves and our kids. We're neurotic and blunt because we don't have time to do anything else. The articles themselves were quite amusing though... the image of some studly man googling tips on how to deal with his date.  

However the resources for single moms are quite limited. Ms. Single Mama has: Finding a Man Person. And Single Mom Seeking has 3 Mistakes to Avoid if You're Dating Again. There have been a few others, but mostly whisperings of what's worked in their current situation.

Maybe this will be mine

Thursday, April 7, 2011

The Femme Fatale

Elizabeth Taylor [was] pre-feminist woman. This is the source of her continuing greatness and relevance. She wields the sexual power that feminism cannot explain and has tried to destroy. Through stars like Taylor, we sense the world-disordering impact of legendary women like Delilah, Salome, and Helen of Troy. Feminism has tried to dismiss the femme fatale as a misogynist libel, a hoary clich?. But the femme fatale expresses women's ancient and eternal control of the sexual realm. The specter of the femme fatale stalks all men's relations with women. -
Camille Anna Paglia

The "femme fatale" the pre-femenist, the woman that believes in dressing up and getting what she wants because she's a woman.The funny thing, is that I've found that these women, those of us open to dresses, heels, cleavage, cupcakes, and shameless flirting... We believe we need men least of all. We find them useful, convenient, even practical at times, but hardly necessary. We can do anything without them. They're always replaceable.

As you may have guessed I've been accused of being lots of things. However, I've never believed being self indulgent is a crime. If I paid for it, or accomplished it under my own means... then I'm not spoiled, I'm successful. My mentality has been changing, I'm refusing to allow myself to hide out again. I'm refusing to even consider being victimized by lonliness.

I will access every power I have, every shred of pride, and make my life what I want it to be.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Your actions are speaking so loud I can't hear what you're saying.

"Your actions are speaking so loud I can't hear what you're saying."
part of SDL's post : Old People Say the Wisest Things 2

I knew what I thought that meant. Then it changed a bit. Or more so I think I was applying it to others, when really it should have been applied inward. How often do we judge, but hate to be judged. Right?

So I've always said I want to be more social, and actually have been making that effort. Shocking I know. There have been game nights, and drinks nights, and Monday involved awesome Turkey Tacos and quite a few bottles of bubbles.

I've also always want to be more artistic and expressive. Which also has been happening more. I'm going through Moleskines like crazy, writing most days, and even doodling a bit. I'd like to get back to full on collage and image focus, but beggars and choosers.

I've also wanted to be more focused on Peyton. Reading and playing, shopping and painting. Visiting the park and the zoo and everything else a little one should have. Which I've been much better about reading with her before bed, spending time with her after dinner, and being proactive on the weekend days.

So its become a full complete juggling act to keep Parenting, Artistic and Social me satisfied, but I'm trying. Really Really trying. Mom and Teal have been watching Peyton quite a bit though. Guilt ensues. So my actions are reflecting my personal wants. However, my intentions are still blurry. So, where do we find the lines, and how do I keep actions, affirmations, and intentions balanced? Or atleasted balanced enough?

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Th' avenging fiend, that follows us behind, with whips and stings

Guilt is the source of sorrow, 'tis the fiend,
Th' avenging fiend, that follows us behind,
With whips and stings - Nicholas Rowe

Being a parent is hard. We all know that, but at the end of the day the root of being a good parent is loving them like crazy and doing whats best for them...

Which sounds easier than it is. Not the loving them part... the whats best for them. I knew I was unhappy. I knew I was confused and messed up and lonely and stressed and a million other negative emotions. However I tried to not bring those emotions in to my relationship and interactions with her. I tried to be sure she had time with grandma and auntie and friends and cousins.

I thought I did it well. This weekend taught me otherwise. She was full of it, funny and mischievous, giggly and excited. She played in her room for hours. Pretended to be kitties with Avery, danced and dressed up. I made a joke about how full of it she was. Mom responded with "yes, I guess shes finally back to being happy" - which sort of stopped me in my tracks...

My child was not being as vibrant as she could be, because she wasn't as happy she should have been. Because I wasn't happy. I know she's back and everything is delicious and we're settling in quite well, but to be the parent, that hindered their child's spirit for any amount of time... breaks my heart. She's too young, and growing up too fast anyway.

Monday, February 21, 2011

'I just did what every mature adult would; pretended I didn't see him"

I'm terribly guilty of this action. Avoidance. I've been all mixed up and not wanting to talk about things or deal with them at all.

I work my way around issues rather than through them. Which I'm working on. So the break up was final, I've moved out all of my stuff and sat down the other night and said "well, now what?"

The house hadn't closed, thank heavens my folks and I can get along. For the nearly 14 days that I was replaced in my old place, and living at Mom. It has now! As of 3pm on Thrusday February 10 we had the Keys. (insert happy dance). Cute huh?

Now we got to pack, and pack, and lift and move and go go go go. Which has been a whirlwind and not left much time for thought, reflection , writing or blogging. which I'm working on. All my supplies have been moved and packed neatly into boxes I can get to. I want to get back to creating to relax, although Wii has been helping with the help.

Besides how can I resist working here:

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Pretty Girls and their Tattoos

"Tattoos aren't meant for everybody and they're too goddamn good for some people." -Lyle Tuttle

My mother was tattooed by Lyle Tuttle, many many years ago in San Francisco. She was in college and it was Lyle Tuttle swoon. Now this college based decision, was something she didn't think much about, and never thought about what it would mean for her children years later. I guess she never could have predicted the jump in popularity or how our generation would view tattoos as a perfectly acceptable form of bold self expression. Now I have two and 3 more planned, much to Daddy's dismay.

Donovan at work
I believe this is a very valid art form today. Not all tattooed women look like Kat Von D. Though I do think she's beautiful. For instance, my tattoo artist, Donavan Kinyon, does much more than just tattoos. Like canvas painting, car body painting, and has a collection of pieces on spray cans. He even used to design shoes for Teva. I'm starting to feel like tattoo artist are not given due respect in the art world.

I think this post sprouted from the disapproval of a friend/coworker when I mentioned I was planning my next one. I think Tattoos have a negative reputation that they really don't deserve. For me they're like any other art form, just a permanent one.

I believe you should NEVER pick your tattoo out of the book at the shop, or off an online gallery. I do believe that you should pick something you love, that matters to you. I do believe that being able to carry around a piece that mean supports your beliefs, honor a memory, or remind you of your strengths. My first piece is combination of things the mean the world to me. My birth flower, my daughters birth flower and pearls(to honor my late grandmother).

Do you have an opinion about this form of art? Good, Bad or Otherwise? Do you have tattoos? Or want some? What would you say to your child, spouse or best friend if they wanted one? 

What about tattoo artists as artists?

Friday, January 28, 2011

Princess Dreams II

There are no diapers allowed at Disneyland, you can't take them in. That was our dedicated, agreed upon rule for Peyton. She had to have no accidents during the day before we can go. It was a long wait... but she made it. Just before Christmas, and with that we planned Disneyland. Last week, we went.

I'm so glad we went when we did, she is just the right age to fulfill the Disneyland dream. She was so excited to begin with. We walked in the park and met Minnie Mouse right away, then we got to see Mickey at his house. She was thrilled and giggly and wanted to see everything all at once. So thrilled to see the castle and the tree house and and and... We were 45 minutes into our first evening and I was exhausted! We found a seat for the fireworks and snuggled in on the ground. She's a BIG fan of fireworks anyway. Lots of oohs and ahhs. There was great music and plenty of excitement.  Then it happened, a Faerie flew across the sky above us, and Peyton totally lost it.


Any second thoughts, any stress, any exhaustion... all gone. My baby girl believes in magic, in fantasy, in fairies. That's all I've ever wanted for her, to believe in everything. To have a life where she believes nothing bad ever can happen. It made me cry to hear such joy in her voice. I was so happy that she really believes in fairies, princesses, and pirates. She met Cinderella also. And Pluto and Alice.

She had an amazing trip that I'll always cherish if nothing else. She was also an amazing kid. We drove, from Napa to Anaheim is about 9 hours on the road. She was a good kid, read her books, and slept. Ate in restaurants and used her manners. Said please and thank you and ordered for herself most places.

It was a more emotional trip than I would have ever expected. She made me laugh and cry and soo terribly proud of her. I know in 10 years she probably wont remember this trip. I'm so glad we went

Friday, January 21, 2011

Faith is the supplier of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen

Funny thing about Faith. I've always felt my faith came from trust. Trust in God, or a god, or the universe or karma or myself. Or maybe my faith is just that we'll make it through. A friend of mine has a great tattoo that reads "faith is simply a refusal to panic" - This tends to hold true for me. I simply refuse to panic. Usually.

Today has begun a vortex of panic. Today is frantic and ugly. Today I am letting my faith take a backseat. Which is quite unlike me. I will find my faith today. I will finish my panic. I will let this go.

Things will work out. Lyrics always help right?

I'll fly away from it all one day /I'll fly away

These are the days that I will remember/ When my names called on a roll
They'll meet me with two long stem glasses/Make a toast to me coming home

'Cause I heard Jesus, He drank wine/And I bet we'd get along just fine
He could calm a storm and heal the blind/And I bet He'd understand
Understand a heart like mine, oh yes, He would
-Miranda Lambert, "Heart Like Mine"

Thursday, January 13, 2011

I want to go home.

Every house where love abides
And friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home sweet home
For there the heart can rest.
- Henry Van Dyke -

This quote was posted by Porter Hovey at Kissssing - A Love Blog 

I had this thought last night as I was attempting to sleep on the couch. Yes in the house I'm living in, my thought was "I want to go home". Then it occurred to me, that at that very moment, home was something I didn't have.  I do have a roof over my head, and food in the fridge. Peyton has her room, but the place we sleep stopped feeling like home.

Which is good in someways. We are moving. If the housing deal ever goes through, and we can fill out the paperwork correctly to get us a proper loan so we can move. I think I've decided to screw the loan. I can always refinance, this is what Papa Joe had in mind for the funds he put aside, right? A home.

I want a place where people feel welcome, I want to be the hostess. I want to lay down at night and not be concerned. I know I will always find something to worry about, but a few less things may be nice.

I started sketching my idea of home. Did a floor layout of the new house and wrote feelings, actions, and colors. Thing that evoke emotion. Maybe I'll sneak in some time to upload by kitchy little drawing and share. ( I tend to be bad at that)

Draw your house, or apartment or dorm, or favorite place. Draw and write and color what goes on there. I think you'll be surprised what you feel, or what to feel about your space.

Monday, January 10, 2011

The Chesire Cat is in my Head

I keep trying to write here. And on paper and all sorts of other ways. I keep trying to make clear concise thoughts and put them down on paper.

I can't every attempt at a post springs 3 more. Every train of thought leads to 4 tangents and very unclear ramblings. I may break down and just post these, but I feel like I'm talking in circles. Like the Chesire Cat is in my head. It goes something like this:

Oh, by the way, if you'd really like to know, he went that way.
Who did?
The White Rabbit.
He did? He did what?
Went that way.
Who did?
The White Rabbit.
What rabbit?
But didn't you just say - I mean - Oh, dear.
Can you stand on your head?

I'm hoping to focus an unwind and disappear. We're heading for Disneyland in 6 Days. I love traveling with my mom. It should help clear my head and knock out the dust. I may sneak off today and find a beautiful new notebook. something to take with me, something to doodle and write and draw and find the corners and random musings and get rid of the mess.

PS: I love the journalling world - I had just finished this post when one of my very favorite blogs posted this: Maybe I have a Vampire to slay before I can think clearly.