Avoiding the Aftermath

At this point everyone and their brother has said something about the horrendous shootings in Colorado.  Part of me wants to have something to say too.  Another part of me doesn’t want to be a tag-along to such an unspeakable tragedy.  I also don’t want to bitch and moan about being ill or the things that aren’t going right in my life because – hey- at least I’m alive, my family is well, and I have a job.

I could talk about my cats.  They are as beautiful and loving as ever.  Ginger, my gold striped little huntress, is regal, demanding, and a bit haughty.  Beggar, my demure ten year old who came to my doorstep by chance, is a bit skittish but has lately been requesting love from everyone in the house.  Lucky, my black cat who rules my yard (she knows it’s hers to rule), still follows me around when I’m in the garden or watering my flowers.  I love them all.  They are my fur babies and each one gives me delight in her own way.  They are a comfort to me.

I could talk about my garden and how it is currently over-producing.  I spend most weekends lately canning or freezing the fruits of our labors. My family will not go hungry come winter.  There are few things more beautiful than a canning jar full of ruby tomatoes.

Basically I just want to focus on the positives.  There are so many things in this life to be thankful for.  There are so many reasons to not focus on the negatives - or the continuous wall to wall coverage of the savageness in Aurora.  The stories of both the brutality and of the heroism break my heart.  So I simply turn to the everyday simple things around me in my life.  My cats love me unconditionally.  My garden grows and produces calmness as well as fruits from our labors.  Life goes on in the heat of this summer.  Soon the news coverage will cool as will the weather.  And then the colors of autumn will be a new reason to smile.

P/S:  I was not trying to be cold or frivolous when I wrote this.  I had a friend who was killed in a church shoot in Knoxville, TN.  I have see the aftermath and know what family and friends go through.  I pray for them.  I just can't watch the continuous newscoverabe any more.

Cuddling up with FUR

Over the weekend I watched the movie FUR starring Nichole Kidman and Robert Downey, Jr.  This movie was made in 2006 and I didn’t remember it being advertised at that time but saw it on the shelf of the video store (my mate dragged me in there) and decided to take a chance. 

The movie is an “imaginary biography” of Diane Arbus, a groundbreaking avant-garde photographer known for taking black and white photos of people on the fringe of society - dwarfs, trans-gender people, nudists, circus performers.  However ,she didn’t start out that way. 

 As the movie opens, she is a buttoned-up frustrated housewife in the last 1950’s.  She feels confined to her life even though she sees her world differently than others.  Then a new upstairs neighbor ,Lionel Sweeney, moves in and their eyes meet through a window.  Lionel is a most non-traditional neighbor and his own differentness shows her a different way that life could be lived.  His openness during their late night travels allows her to let go of the buttoned-up “normality” that stifled her creativity and her life.

FUR is a slow motion seduction.  It gets under your skin.  It makes you a little uncomfortable but you cannot turn away.  Robert Downey, Jr. played the part well while in heavy costume and make-up.  His character was strong and moving through use of mostly his satiny voice and soulful looks .  As Lionel’s door is closing he wants desperately to open a door for Diane and this he did well.  In the end she is transformed by his love into the photographer of the freaks and more fully opened to who she really is on the inside.  She embraces herself.

The freak in me was deeply drawn into this movie.  The differentness that I just can’t seem to completely hide, opened itself up and embraced the love that poured from the movie.  As Diane Arbus was seduced by Lionel so was I.  FUR is an odd little turn on that leaves you wanting passion, wanting to make some difference in your life or touch the lives of others.  It was breathtakingly, achingly beautiful without regret. 

Life in Slow Motion

Written June17, 2012

It is close to sundown, that perfect part of the day when sitting out on the patio, drink in hand, as the temperature concedes to a break and all can seem right in the world for at least a little bit.

It's been a long day.  Not because we are approaching the summer solstice but because of the depth of complication that's been felt.  I have worked off and on all day to complete the laundry, a simple task that should be taxing, but for me it is.  Each year the simple tasks of life become less easy for me. I did a bit of shopping yesterday at three different stores, which for the average person would have been no trouble at all.  However, because of those two hours of walking, standing, and carrying, my body is alive with pain.  This is what comes with the diagnosis of fibromyalgia.  Couple that with my other health issues - migraines, allergies, interstitial cystitis, IBS, PTSD, and depression - and there are days when simply functioning is near impossible.

There are days when I am beyond frustrated.  I feel so much pain that I move at a pace even a senior citizen would consider slow.  On really bad days, I am slowed not only physically but mentally as well.  Those are the days when the depression and/or the PTSD have reared their ugly heads.  (I am thankful to the Bloggess for her "Depression Lies" campaign - there are times when it's hard to remember that simple truth.)  The fibromyalgia can make bad days worse as well with its "fibro fog".  Those are days when one can't be certain that 2+2 is such an easy equation.

Somehow, though, I muddle through.  I have survived much longer than I ever thought I would.  I feel I have finally breached that plane of existence where I can look past all the obstacles and see my life's goals clearly.  It's just taking me much longer than anticipated to reach them.  It's like trying to run in water or thick mud (depending on the physical and/or mental pain level of the day).  The prize is coming into view.  Even if the day is foggy now, I have focus.  I know I will reach my dream with patience and time.

Melancholia Speaks Depression

I watched the movie MELANCHOLIA recently.  This is not a movie I would recommend to just anyone.  Most people will find it tedious and annoying.  However, I saw it for its artistic merit.  It is a beautiful study on depression, its affects on a personal level, and how the family and friends of the person suffering from depression are affected.  As a person who has battled with depression for most of my life, I found it haunting.  It echoed deep within me.  At the end of the movie when all hope is lost, those who were "normal" fell apart and could not handle the idea of their eminent demise.  They fell to pieces.  However, the character, whom everyone had remained annoyed with due to her horrible bouts of depression and need for constant care, was the one who took over the caretaker role.  She embraced the moment and was able to help those who had previously cared for her through the moment of transition as all life was ending.  This film is not for everyone.  After the credits rolled, I confess I felt my own my own melancholy seep through.  Life is a beautiful fractured mess but it is not pointless.  It is given meaning when one forgets oneself and bends to help another in their time of need.

Transit of Venus

Is the Transit of Venus an omen of good or a harbinger of doom?  I have heard it argued both ways.  When linked to the end of the Mayan Calendar (December 21, 2012), it is said to be the first sign of the end of time.  however, I choose to see it more of a harbinger of change.  Or as Bob Dylan famously sang, "Oh the times, they are a changin'."

I have had a lot of changes that have already happened this year - some good and some bad - and I know that there are more changes to come.  As the planetary bodies have moved through the heavens, month by month this year, my life has had changes bit by bit.  So far I've done fair to middlin' on my New Year's resolutions - I'm counting this as a plus.  But I also lost a friend this year when the head of my department suddenly passed away.  I self-published my first book this year.  A compilation of poems entitled "Making Poe Proud" which has made me proud of the accomplishment and the lovely reviews I've received.  Then I had to have major surgery, for which I am still recovering.

The heavenly bodies move across the skies above us.  The paths can be charted mathematically and anticipated far in advance, as proven by the Mayans.  I am not convinced, as yet, that the heavenly bodies take any notice of us at all, though we have admired them for centuries.

I know that change is coming.  I didn't need a darkened spot traveling across the sun to tell me that.  But it does make us stop, momentarily, look up at the beauty with amazement, and take stock of our lives.  Perhaps this is why we decide to make changes.  As the celestial bodies dance, they inspire us to move and change our own patterns as well.

Late Night Ramblings

I have had a lot of late nights and/or sleepless nights since the surgery  in the early part of May.  That led to a lot of odd TV watching and net surfing.  This in turn led to some odd poetry and odd pieces of writing.  I hope that both of these pieces will lead to more fiction writing and a collection of poetry.

Written June 1, 2012

Wail into my world
open the doors of perception
I'll open my soul to you
with no regrets or deceptions
guide me to new landscapes
show me the path you glide
whisper me your secrets
with you I will confide
I am open and receptive
waiting for your wail
I am cloistered in uncertainity
deep within my cell

Written May 28, 2012 - This could be a great jumping off point for a sci-fi or fantasy piece of fiction!

If I have learned anything from watching "Life After People" it's that 5,000 - 10,000 years after people there will be little to no evidence that people were ever on Earth.  Even the islands of plastic waste floating in the oceans will finally disintegrate.  Monuments, cities, dams, canals, machinery, roadways - all are washed away, broken down, and destroyed.  After 10,000 years only a few things consisting of stone exist and because of plant life, climatic changes, the shifting of the Earth, the blowing of dust, and the endless flow of water, these little bits of evidence are buried or drown, making them hard to discover.

Add that to the claims of "Ancient Aliens" and one begins to wonder if perhaps there was once a thriving advanced civilization on Earth that met with a great disaster leaving few survivors.  These survivors would not be able to maintain the advance systems and would move out of the cities, which would become dangerous, and into the countryside.  They would pass down to any descendants stories of what their lives had been like BEFORE.  Over time, after the original survivors had died out, their descendants would pass on stories of things they had never seen or experienced on their own.  These stories from the original survivors would get distored as they were handed down by word of mouth.

Within our own recorded history, when the Roman Empire fell, much knowledge was lost and had to be rediscovered.  Even some monuments and buildings were lost and are only now being rediscovered by people, usually due to our need for expansion.  Perhaps there have been several cycles of civilizations building up and then being obliterated with few survivors to rebuild.  Perhaps even several settlements of different species or evolutions over time from both this planet or from the stars.

When one lets one's mind wander to these ancient ruins for which no one knows the history, one could conceive of many alternate explanations and histories for this planet and its many varied conquerers and inhabitants.

A Hysterectomy for Mother's Day

Here's a little bit about me:  I've been married for 23 years and I have two children.  My Twitter account was an attempt at being anonymous.  However, my "housemates" really are as odd as I've described them.

After I turned 30 it's like the warranty on my bod expired.  A laundry list of things started to go wrong.  I began having migraines. I was diagnosed with fibromylagia.  I received a back injury in a car accident.  My gall bladder had to be removed.  My spastic colon was upgraded to full blown IBS.  It was discovered that I had interstitial cystitis that required 8 weeks of treatment.  It was confirmed that I suffered from PTSD (a story for another time).

Most recently my baby making equipment began failing me.  I had a D&C then a uterine oblation to try to repair the problems with my cycle and out of control bleeding.  That seemed to work for a couple of years.  I'd been having some pain recently along with some odd bleeding.  When I went to my OBGYN I was told that there were fibroids in my uterus (one of which was pushing on my bladder and exacerbating the interstitial cystitis) and a cyst on my left ovary.  In a whirlwind the surgery was scheduled for the Wednesday before Mother's Day.

When I came out of the surgery I was told that the left ovary had to be removed as well because the area where the cyst was removed would not stop bleeding.  So I now have only one ovary to keep my hormones circulating normally.  This should be interesting.

Since the surgery I've been kitten weak, in pain, and sleeping quite a bit.  I'm told this is normal.  I have urges to do something since I'm home but I've been fended off from doing much of anything by my family.  Even if I'm just sitting up for a while watching TV or typing on my laptop I become fatigued.

My family is trying to make it up to me though.  I have roses on my bedside table along with a charming Mother's Day card.  A cake was baked for me along with chocolate muffins.  Delicious food has been provided for me whenever I am hungry.  I have much for which to be thankful.

I need only continue to rest and heal then I can begin to move to the next phase of my life.  One door closes and another one opens.

Sleep
let dreams guide the body healing
Sleep
let the body release pain through dreams
Sleep
let the gods whisper into wounds
Sleep
let wounds be knitted by whispers
Sleep
let red ribbons wind wounds close
Sleep
let wounds be healed in whispered dreams
Sleep
let healing and strength be gained
Sleep
let the body be made whole
Whispered ribbons kitted in dreams
Healing of the gods bring relief
Sleep, an enchantment deep and sweet,
Vivid magic pure and complete