Only a few days left of the May Challenge!

We will play games. We will write into games and goals and playtime. We will allow ourselves to be blissfully silly. Oh, wow. I have written 20 words! Hold the presses, man the forts! It is May 28 and I am still rising to the challenge. 4 more days. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.

Yes, it is possible, especially possible.

We will play the witness game.

We will play “put it on audio”

We will play “write the senses” game

We will play, over the weekend, in the craft shack.

Write write write write write write write write.

Use the container as a writing sanctuary. Sanctuary. Writing sanctuary. Stained glass windows. Trees, rising. Up, up, up. This feels grounding. This feels… marvelous. This feels exactly right – good, holy, precious. Connected. Love! LOVE!

People need excuses to travel. Where could we go? Three Rivers. Group rates. Rental cars, shuttles into the interior. Write. Write. Write. “There are fences around the sequoias”. Camp. Camp fires. Experience it. Fully. Love. Love. Love. Love.

This is what I love.

Most everything I have done is because people say, “I want this!” so I create it.

How long would it take to create that? When does that road usually close?

Trail of 100 Giants.

I remember….

witness and object + I remember game…

Poignancy, ignition – ready, aim FIRE! Ta-DA!

Major Ta-DA!

Feel it, feel it, feel it!

Sequoia sanctuary. Would you come?

Write. Love. Write. Love. Write. Love. Write Love. Let me go back to Psalms. Almost getting there. Not even more than 1/3 I feel lame. Not undistractable, doesn’t feel undistractable. Ok. next. Let me look.

Oh, it was in notebook, notepad. Don’t want to forget. Want to remember.

Julie, my love, YOU are a bridge!

Cadafy said, Those voices are the sweeter which have fallen
forever silent, mournfully
resounding only in the heart that sorrows.
Sweeter are the absent.
Sweeter are the missing.
More poignant are the lambs that stray, that never seem to find their way. Don’t leave, lambs. Don’t leave. Stay. Please stay. Don’t go away. I write. I write. I write. Voices forever silent, the ones recorded, the ones I reach out to hold. The ones I slightly remember right on the edge of my memory. Can I hear Granny still?

I listen. I can. I hear phrases like “The hurrier I go the behinder I get” I remember the day I ran away, seeing her at a counter at Bullock’s, hiding in mazes of people, walking all over Pasadena. “Where did you go?” My fear sent me away. My fear made me leave. I couldn’t bear to stay. I took off and scared everyone. My aunt Betsy stayed that night. I remember talking to her and feeling cool, which is odd. She may have been using something that night. I can remember her voice, Granny’s, and she forgave me. Eventually they pulled me around, but that night it was too much. I couldn’t do it that night. I had lost too much. I had been stripped and made bare. I couldn’t stand anything more, I couldn’t hold anything else in my hands or across my shoulders.

I wait. I write. I remember. I tell. I witness. I hold. I let go. I surrender. I stand. I venture out into the wildnerness of my spirit. I swashbuckle. I weave words. I relish this moment and the next and the next and this. especially this. THIS!

I ruffle my hair. I try to stop counting and just let stuff flow. I capture. I witness. I wonder. I move. I pray. I love. I wonder where Cameron is and what he is doing. I think over my busy night ahead. I think sleep would be good but know 5 hour energy is in my future, not sleeping (unfortunately.)

I between 6:30 and 7:30 we will go and walk the dogs before my show. Before Junkbox and then my show. Work it. Work it. Work it Work it. Work it. Is he nuts? No, he is him. Work it, work it, work it. Jeff said I was a pro and I believe him.

Sleep would be SUCH a good thing!

5 hour energy it will be. God knows I need it. Iam almost done with my 750 words.

Here we go.

Love. Writing. Sanctuary. I didn’t finish studying the Psalm.

God is all strength for his people,
ample refuge for his chosen leader;
Save your people
and bless your heritage.
Care for them;
carry them like a good shepherd.

Where does David get off telling God what to do? Eh? Care for them? Carry them like a good shepherd? David, you are lucky God even lets you write words down. Don’t butter him up with stuff like God is strength for all his people. Care for them, God. Even those who don’t recognize it?

Oh brother.

ok. Back to writing sanctuary. I am moving. YAY!

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

Only a few days left of the May Challenge!

We will play games. We will write into games and goals and playtime. We will allow ourselves to be blissfully silly. Oh, wow. I have written 20 words! Hold the presses, man the forts! It is May 28 and I am still rising to the challenge. 4 more days. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.

Yes, it is possible, especially possible.

We will play the witness game.

We will play “put it on audio”

We will play “write the senses” game

We will play, over the weekend, in the craft shack.

Write write write write write write write write.

Use the container as a writing sanctuary. Sanctuary. Writing sanctuary. Stained glass windows. Trees, rising. Up, up, up. This feels grounding. This feels… marvelous. This feels exactly right – good, holy, precious. Connected. Love! LOVE!

People need excuses to travel. Where could we go? Three Rivers. Group rates. Rental cars, shuttles into the interior. Write. Write. Write. “There are fences around the sequoias”. Camp. Camp fires. Experience it. Fully. Love. Love. Love. Love.

This is what I love.

Most everything I have done is because people say, “I want this!” so I create it.

How long would it take to create that? When does that road usually close?

Trail of 100 Giants.

I remember….

witness and object + I remember game…

Poignancy, ignition – ready, aim FIRE! Ta-DA!

Major Ta-DA!

Feel it, feel it, feel it!

Sequoia sanctuary. Would you come?

Write. Love. Write. Love. Write. Love. Write Love. Let me go back to Psalms. Almost getting there. Not even more than 1/3 I feel lame. Not undistractable, doesn’t feel undistractable. Ok. next. Let me look.

Oh, it was in notebook, notepad. Don’t want to forget. Want to remember.

Julie, my love, YOU are a bridge!

Cadafy said, Those voices are the sweeter which have fallen
forever silent, mournfully
resounding only in the heart that sorrows.
Sweeter are the absent.
Sweeter are the missing.
More poignant are the lambs that stray, that never seem to find their way. Don’t leave, lambs. Don’t leave. Stay. Please stay. Don’t go away. I write. I write. I write. Voices forever silent, the ones recorded, the ones I reach out to hold. The ones I slightly remember right on the edge of my memory. Can I hear Granny still?

I listen. I can. I hear phrases like “The hurrier I go the behinder I get” I remember the day I ran away, seeing her at a counter at Bullock’s, hiding in mazes of people, walking all over Pasadena. “Where did you go?” My fear sent me away. My fear made me leave. I couldn’t bear to stay. I took off and scared everyone. My aunt Betsy stayed that night. I remember talking to her and feeling cool, which is odd. She may have been using something that night. I can remember her voice, Granny’s, and she forgave me. Eventually they pulled me around, but that night it was too much. I couldn’t do it that night. I had lost too much. I had been stripped and made bare. I couldn’t stand anything more, I couldn’t hold anything else in my hands or across my shoulders.

I wait. I write. I remember. I tell. I witness. I hold. I let go. I surrender. I stand. I venture out into the wildnerness of my spirit. I swashbuckle. I weave words. I relish this moment and the next and the next and this. especially this. THIS!

I ruffle my hair. I try to stop counting and just let stuff flow. I capture. I witness. I wonder. I move. I pray. I love. I wonder where Cameron is and what he is doing. I think over my busy night ahead. I think sleep would be good but know 5 hour energy is in my future, not sleeping (unfortunately.)

I between 6:30 and 7:30 we will go and walk the dogs before my show. Before Junkbox and then my show. Work it. Work it. Work it Work it. Work it. Is he nuts? No, he is him. Work it, work it, work it. Jeff said I was a pro and I believe him.

Sleep would be SUCH a good thing!

5 hour energy it will be. God knows I need it. Iam almost done with my 750 words.

Here we go.

Love. Writing. Sanctuary. I didn’t finish studying the Psalm.

God is all strength for his people,
ample refuge for his chosen leader;
Save your people
and bless your heritage.
Care for them;
carry them like a good shepherd.

Where does David get off telling God what to do? Eh? Care for them? Carry them like a good shepherd? David, you are lucky God even lets you write words down. Don’t butter him up with stuff like God is strength for all his people. Care for them, God. Even those who don’t recognize it?

Oh brother.

ok. Back to writing sanctuary. I am moving. YAY!

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

May 27 Morning Pages

Writing camp started today. I am so grateful for camp and for all the people who write with me, write alongside me and trust me to facilitate the process. I am taking time to write before heading off to take care of the dogs. I feel bad for leaving them for so long although they really seem to be doing ok with this. Arrival at the camp fire.

Mary Oliver, Rain. Snippet. What happens. Love the questions like words written in foreign languages. Lovely.

Catch up with the energy.

such power came down from the clouds. As authoritative as God is supposed to be. When it hit the tree, her body opened forever.
Her words opened, forever.
We open our words, our selves, our writing changes, forever, in this, our writing sanctuary. Listen to my voice, sweet and smooth and soft. Each word that is here.

Last night was Katherine’s award night. She got so much stuff, so many awards it almost got to be ridiculous.

How would being in a writing sanctuary for a week change you, change your writing?

Laughing. Laughing. Laughing.

I spoke, just let my words out. Just let them OUT! Exciting times whenever a new program begins. Anticipation. Curiosity and wonder. LOVE LOVE LOVE my wonder and my words. I am googling Psalm 27, moving right along.

Ready?

Audio acrobat could be seen as a nuisance I see it, instead, as a love. A love, love, love, love, love. My voice: Julie…. Jodi! Her excellent birthday! I am excellent OH MY GOD! It felt so good! So you.

I’m doing really well, also I said.

Who else just came in? Dian -

Light, space, zest— that’s God!
So, with him on my side I’m fearless,
afraid of no one and nothing.

Light, space, zest THAT’S GOD!
Open, color, rays shafts beams.

Magical – that word kept coming up, kept opening us up, kept allowing the beauty which is us to flow through, to gather, to find one another.

People kept coming.

I’m asking God for one thing,
only one thing:
To live with him in his house
my whole life long.
I’ll contemplate his beauty;
I’ll study at his feet.

I’ll study, I’ll grow, I’ll come to know!! I’ll come to know you! Hooray!

You know, I should hook everyone up via facebook. Trying to decide if I should do a short term Yahoogroup? What do you all think? Does it help to have a place to find the pieces in one place, simple as an email away.

I could add a blog page. I didn’t feel intuitively lead to do so this time around. It is intriguing how, together, we bring ourselves.

We all write differently – thank GOODNESS! Honoring one another’s words. Order of business.

Writing sanctuary. Writing sanctuary. Writing sanctuary. Writing sanctuary. Writing sanctuary.

100% courageous. Cleve Jones words.

Writing. Passion. Courage. Writing. Passion. Devotion. Writing Passion Courage. Writing. Passion. Courage. Writing. Passion. Courage. Writing. Passion. Courage. Writing. Passion. Courage.

I miss my beloved Bernie. I miss my beloved Bernie. I miss my beloved Bernie.

Writing. Passion. Courage. Writing Passion. Devotion to writing. Passion Courage. Writing. Passion. Courage. Writing passion, devotion to writing.

“Be good to me! Answer me!”
When my heart whispered, “Seek God,”
my whole being replied,
“I’m seeking him!”
Don’t hide from me now!

9-10 You've always been right there for me;
     don't turn your back on me now.
  Don't throw me out, don't abandon me;
     you've always kept the door open.
  My father and mother walked out and left me,
     but God took me in.

God took me in. You’ve been right there for me. You’ve been right there!

Seek God! I seek God.

Dear God,

Thank you for my Katherine. Thank you for her wisdom her blessings to the world. Thank you for this 750 words place where I can write. Thank you for writing camp. Thank you for helping me to grow consistently and vibrantly. I love it. I love being a bridge and helping people. Sometimes it is nervous to share writing. It is ok to be nervous.

Thank you God for writing camp. Thank you God, for writing camp. Thank you, God, for writing camp.

Intentional love. Intentional love. Intentional love. Intentional love. Intentional love. Your entire professional name. We all want to know the book is by the name I write by, not the first name and the city you live in. I will teach a lessonette. We’ll take some time to write. Awssignment, play, wroking, playing, camping, hiking, gardening. Any questions? Go, move, grow. Camp.

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

Continuing on Task: May 26

I am on a 30 day streak and May is coming closer to a close. Today, Senior awards. A part of me shudders at that thought. It feels like everything, the significance of everything, is coming to an end. I am not sure I like it. Maybe if I thought, “Oh, a new chapter!” I might be able to don a crooked smile rather than that worried squiggly across my forehead. Isn’t this what parents look to when they have their babies? Not this parent. I remember when Katherine was born, saying “I am so glad she is a December baby…. that means I get to keep her for another year!”

I am grateful for Cameron’s truck, which I have under my care for the next ten days. This means I get to do truck oriented tasks, like go to the dump and unload a bunch of stuff I don’t want, need and that don’t fit in the “reuse, recycle” mode. I am grateful to know, for example – my garage will benefit from being cleared a bit. And loads taken to Goodwill in large bunches.

I am grateful for candles.

I am grateful for my camera.

I am grateful for Michelle’s abilities with a camera.

I am grateful for the 750word challenge. I want to get back into my handwritten morning pages as well… but this computer can’t be misplaced like my notebooks have a tendency of doing. I think I will start a new notebook on June 1. That always works well for me, I discover… over and over again.

I am grateful for my mug collection.

I am grateful for all the people I have met this past year. My circle has widened considerably.

I am grateful to feel the increase in confidence that has developed without me even really noticing it.

I am grateful I will soon have more time to download all these stories that are lined up like logs, waiting to go down stream.

Soon, soon.

I am grateful for Hank.

I am grateful.

What? A slight distraction bobbled my flow.

What do I wish to change about my place is the question today from Jamie.

No, simply “what do you wish for your space?”

It is intriguing this question comes now, when I have just worked out a barter to get the exterior of my house painted and have been planning for mini-remodels of my space. Nothing major or structural, more like paint and window treatments, but it is still exciting. When Cameron is out of town I am to collect paint chips for the exterior of the house. I will take Katherine with me on that. I have been wanting a greyish color (literally for years) with a dark blue trim. In the twenty years I have lived here, I have wanted to paint for probably… 18 of those years.

I wish for my space to be welcoming.

I wish for my space to be ready to be welcoming so it isn’t a big production when I have guests because I love having guests. This year I have had more guests than I have had for years. It has been great, actually. I would love to get the floors redone, also. They are better… we lifted the carpet and the floors still need to be refinished but it is one of those, “All in good time!” experiences. I also would like to hang more of the art I have been collecting on the walls and to print more photos and hang them throughout… So much art.

I wish for my space to express the artists who inhabit it.

I wish for my space to remain light and open.

I wish for my space to be a gathering place for other artists. (It is getting there.)

I wish for my space to make way for other spaces.

I wish for my space to feel sacred.

I wish for my space to be… peace.

(That is enough, right?)

Yes. That is enough.

I remember making those calls about the Korn video. Was it two weeks ago now? Three? Something like that. I remember, especially, my presence in the moment. I didn’t think about anything except the moment, which is probably how the photos manage to, not the photos, the shots, managed to work out so well.

The clearest recollection was running down the street, scared… and running in front of the crowd of Daleans, applauding. And not being embarassed or even feeling the need to be embarassed, but staying 100% professional and checking in with the Director. “IS this what you wanted?”

Ok, I need to get ready to take care of the dogs now. Yay?

Yes, Yay!

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

Gratitude on May 26, 2010

I am grateful for Cameron’s truck, which I have under my care for the next ten days. This means I get to do truck oriented tasks, like go to the dump and unload a bunch of stuff I don’t want, need and that don’t fit in the “reuse, recycle” mode. I am grateful to know, for example – my garage will benefit from being cleared a bit. And loads taken to Goodwill in large bunches.

I am grateful for candles.

I am grateful for my camera.

I am grateful for Michelle’s abilities with a camera.

I am grateful for the 750word challenge. I want to get back into my handwritten morning pages as well… but this computer can’t be misplaced like my notebooks have a tendency of doing. I think I will start a new notebook on June 1. That always works well for me, I discover… over and over again.

I am grateful for my mug collection.

I am grateful for all the people I have met this past year. My circle has widened considerably.

I am grateful to feel the increase in confidence that has developed without me even really noticing it.

I am grateful I will soon have more time to download all these stories that are lined up like logs, waiting to go down stream.

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

May 23: Morning Pages via 750 Words (with prompting from the comfort cafe)

Combined two tasks into one

2010 Word: Tangible Soul
Intention: Presence. Listening. Opening.
Have to: Do tech week, which means I have to find my script to review today! LOL. That is top priority.
Could do: More art. My assemblage remains unfinished and I want to finish it. I am feeling less rigid structure right now as I am easing off some of my theater workload so it will open more space for other creativity.
Let go of: Being anything other than exactly who I am in this precise moment.

Source/Spirit/God, I am ready to receive inspiration and guidance so I can more fully see and live my strengths. What do I need to know?
Trying answering with your non-dominant hand or after a bit of meditation or yoga or walking in nature or breathing into your heart.

As I consider the next few days, where do I automatically assume I don’t have a choice in what I do?
I don’t have a choice in regards to the tasks on the mommying chart. I always need to get Samuel to school fully dressed, for example. I always need to make sure they are fed and reasonably content. I choose to make the most of each moment, constantly imbuing them with positive memories and associations. Play as well as work. All emotions expressed, even what some perceive as “negative”. I also have Kat’s final awards night on the 26th, I don’t have a choice nor would I have a choice. I also feel choiceless about tech week. I need to be perfect. That is a privilege and what I want to do, especially given the character I am playing who is a living, breathing, incredible human being. (Robin Tyler, activist and performer.)

Clue: look for places where are you are saying, “That’s just how it is” or “That’s what they expect from me” or “I don’t have a choice.”

I will also consciously look out for the language I use when faced with choices this week.

What would I like to change about my plans for the next few days if believed I could do more of what strengthens me? I don’t think there is anything I would change, actually. I have created my life to be pretty… much in flow with who I am… which is the source of my strengths or perhaps part and parcel of my strengths. I will be doing more outreach about my programs, AND I try to consciously keep that as a part of the flow, too.

Let yourself dream.

What sensual beauty calls to me? Wow. This is another specialty (strength?) of mine. I am thinking of yesterday, on our trip to the River, Kernville, Sequoia. We did the standard photo shoot and then Michelle opened it up to anyone to do anything and I had a different dress to wear and I told Michelle I wanted to take some shots in the River. What I didn’t realize was that as soon as I put my toes in the River I knew I had to become INTIMATE with the river. It was probably 55 degrees out there and I went waist deep into the river and fell into complete bliss – all because my toes touched the water and I said yes to the river. Across the way I had noticed purple wildflowers and I pointed them out to Alison. We had a coup de photo shoot and insisted we cross over to the hillside and wow, the photos are phenomenal and we fulfilled a dream come true of photos in the wildflowers for Alison. All because of allowing the senses to draw us forward.

Coryn and I continued this in Kernville in a moment with flowers that looked like lavendar and then, sniffing the inside of a burned (good for their growth, actually) Sequoia. Later in Sequoia I sat on a bench and cried, humbled by the beauty of it.

I am a voluptuary and proud of it. Another strength. (Cameron calls me a sensate, but I think voluptuary is more fun to say and since it rejoices in the curves, I am all about it!)

Spring is about beauty, let it nourish you!

What relationship needs my attention this week? Katherine. I need to be sure to pay attention to her as she faces the last two weeks of high school. I may plan some special breakfasts, since she is so busy the rest of the time.

I love that my list of “I loves” is so long, I doubt I could fit them on a page or use words to contain them. :-)

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

On May 21, I am so grateful

I have things to look forward to doing

I am enjoying my chores rather than dreading my chores

I have a wide network of caring friends

My “splurgy” breakfast at Carrow’s (and Dawn saying, “Wow, I haven’t seen you for a long time, Julie!”). Thirteen years ago I used to go there once a week for lunch, when I worked for the county and was pregnant with Emma. They watched me get bigger and bigger and bigger and just love being a part of my kids lives. And we are a part of their kids lives. Dawn, for example, is a brand new grandma. I heard her tell the same story over and over and over again to her regulars and co-workers. Adorable.

My new offerings

the optimistic sound of bird song

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

May 20, 2010 One Sentence Journal

I was numb at the Pops Concert, so numb I didn’t even cry.

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one sentence' journal

Morning Pages May 21 a la 750 Words

I believe it said I am on a 26 day streak, or something close to that.

I don’t feel like writing. I feel like sitting, stationary, unmoving, unrelenting, like the blood thickening in my veins this morning. Ugh. I don’t want to clean my house or get ready to be a hostess, but the people coming, the sweet girls whose Moms wait a half a world away for good reports, they don’t know they are walking into a home where overnight the puppy of the house died. They don’t know that, and I don’t know that with the language barriers I want to leap right into that. WELCOME! oh, my puppy died. My sweet little birthday present puppy I just met in January. He was supposed to be there when Hank leaves me, he wasn’t supposed to leave me first. My arms are heavy and nothing else seems to matter. My precious German poet dog. Rainer. Rainer. Rainer.

This morning when I was getting Sam dressed I said his name, “Rainer” in that expectant, “come here, sweet puppy” voice. I wanted him here. So much loss in my life. I am so done with it all, I don’t want loss anymore. I want love. Not loss. I don’t want emptiness where my insides feel like they are scraped bear.

I can hear the scraping sound effect in my mind, but not the sight of it. I can feel it, in my belly. I hurt. Ouch. I hurt.

I will take an hour or so nap and then get my work done. I am way behind now but I am so tired, so wrung out, I don’t think I can do much more. I just have to trust the girls will be so swept away by our fantastic activities they won’t notice a dust bunny or two. (Crossing fingers) I am thinking about all my German forebears. They would have noticed. Rolling my eyes at me. LET IT GO.

I am at 312 words.

I worked more on my “wish to experience” insights and my true confession of the day. Maybe it would be best to write that?

I am going to warm up my fingers. Wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish wish. Why? Don’t use why’s, my love, use whats. I hear that. My subconscious hears you. What? What? What? What? What?

Listen. Hear. Love. Know. Hope. Dream. Live. Love. Listen. Hear. Love. Know. Hope. Dream. Love. Hear. Listen. Love. Hope. Dream. Live. Know. Wonder. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope. Hope.
Tangible soul walks down the street. My typing is as numb as my heart. At least I will get this over with, quickly. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.
Work from the list. You are doing well, my love. You are doing well.

Love. Tangible soul love. Love tangible soul. Do you know? Do you hear? I can type with my eyes closed. How interesting is that. I can type and love and type.

I can type and love and love and type.

I want to go to the river NOW. Not later or yesterday. LOVE and lentils. LOVE and time. Love and destiny. Love and hope. Love and presence. Love and treasures. LOVE and love. and LOVE and love. And LOVE! and Love. And Listen, and love. and know and love and hope and know and feel and love and hope and pray and pray and pray and find the treasures that lie within you.

I can see them. Hear you. Know you.

Students, love them. Less than 200 words to go. I can do this quickly.

Love love love love love love writing love is monotonous. Love love love love love love love true confession alert: writing love is monotonous. Give me some emphasis on pain, like what I am feeling in my gut right now and I will give you something much more interesting. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.

Patience. Sweet patience. I can feel it. Sweet love and patience. Sweet love and patience. Sweet love and patience. Sweet love and patience. Sweet love and sweet patience. Sweet love and sweet patience. Sweet love and sweet patience. Moving. Love. Sweet love. Sweet. Love. Sweet. Love. Sweet Love. Tangible soul. Tangible soul. Tangible soul. Tangible soul. Tangible soul. Tangible soul. Feel the tangible soul. Know it is coming soon. Language will be fine. Less than twenty words. Tangible soul. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. LOve. tangible soul is mine and yours and hers and his and theirs. Love. Bye for now. Love. Hello, again. Love.

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

May 20 Morning Pages a la 750 Words

Last night I sang at karaoke at Rusty’s. It had been a while. Jeff said, when I was done, “Yeah, she is a pro.” I get embarassed when peopled say stuff like this because I still don’t see myself that way. The other odd thing about Rusty’s is they know I did a Korn video and last night, at least one of the staff was looking at me in that weird, “Wow, you hobnob with famous people” ways (and yeah, I hardly call what I did hobnobbing with famous people) and then I got this dread about when they actually SEE the video, what will happen vis a vis their opinion of me.

Will MTV allow the horror movie like images or will they just do the crazy middle aged couple portrait thingee? It will be interesting to see if any Korn fans recognize me. I loved that experience. Makes me want to check Craig’s list for more gigs.

So, poems this week. Still haven’t written the three word wednesday although I suppose I could try again – did the rough drafty thing yesterday. I got the wordle prompt for the Big Tent poetry. those women love words, find words I have never heard like Sapient and Caparison, which looked like a typo at first.

She doffed a bright fuschia caparison
huddled beside a olive cloaked sapient woman
who offered a tincture of kumquat and
molly prayed there wouldn’t be a glitch
She fondled her purse and the only
thing recognizable were the crumbles
from this morning’s cinnamon swirl

See, almost done.

Story telling poem, not emotional based poem. I am only 269 words in and I am bored already. Celtic music playing, candles going, coffee beside my hands, how can I be done or bored or simply not inspired all ready?

Rehearsal went well last night. I saw Jess and all those CSUB people who are doing Merry Wives of Windsor. I see them striding around together with regularity. That one guy is directing a Christopher Durang play (which, by the way, I need to look up for auditions…) I wonder what it would be like to play the Southern Belle mother sort of person. I think it would be a blast and then some leftover blast babies to pepper the rest of my life with.

I am still shocked to continually get compliments for my work as Charlotte. Delighted and shocked. Ready. Ready. Ready. Ready. Ready.

Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Heavy armed. Nap after done with this. Snuggling into the bed, feeling the support against the small of my back. Getting closer. Almost 450 words.

Love tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul love love love love tangible soul tangible soul tangible soul love tangible soul love tangible soul. Fed the dog and the cat.

I wear worry like a cloak, red, knit, warm but what is the word?

Tenuous.

five hundred words.

Sip coffee.

bag pipes.
Classical music.
Something fell down my shirt.
Switched to classical. Better for memory. Wait, slickster girl. Wait. slickster girl. I smell slightly sweet is it my candle or Hank’s meal? I type. I type. I type.

Love. Abundance. Sip coffee. Love tangible soul. Love tangible soul.

Choose poems for Chap Book.

Motherhood

Womanhood

Being an artist

Spirituality

I have lots of separate topics I could teach from and use

Sounds

Soul

Spirit

Ok. Find another word and write it. (Ominous music slips by, moaning and pounding its chest. Blahhhhhh!

Proof – Burden in a backpack
Shoulders carry it, gently, roughly, unconsciously.
It is just a pack.
It is just a rucksack.
It is just everything.
It is just nothing.

I was shocked at his concern being solely money. There is a problem there, a complete opposite of my problem, Balance is where health lives. Balance is where health lives. Balance is where happiness lives. Balance is where tangible soul lives. Tangible soul tip toes amongst the mulberries.

I miss my students. I want to teach again. I want to hold court in the lessons of life, wisdom. Almost less, wait – there is less, fewer lower count of words. I am down to less than 50. Live365.

My eyes are heavy. My eye lids are heavy.

I am dressed like a bag lady and I need a shower. What a fabulous combination.

Pink heart pajama pants
Almost stylish scoop necked blouse
Hand me down knit sweater,
boastful red, adorns my shoulders
What an ensemble
What a look
Remind me to change

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

One Word Journal: May 19, 2010

Sing!

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one word' journal

May 19, 2010 One Sentence Journal

It is intriguing to watch the (and be a part of) the eclectic community at Rusty’s Pizza each Wednesday night for karaoke.

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one sentence' journal

On May 20, I am so grateful for....

for expressive painting at the Art and Spirituality Center at Mercy Hospital

down comforters

karaoke with my kids (and the compliments received there)

rehearsals

crisp mornings

my new tablecloth and other such simple pleasures.

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

Psalm 19

I am love, love, loving this line (and writing, contemplating, praying and perhaps painting)

God’s glory is on tour in the skies….

:-)

See more progress on: May 2010 Goal: Read, pray, study, contemplate one Psalm Daily

One Word Journal: May 18, 2010

do

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one word' journal

One Sentence Journal, May 18, 2010

Long, productive day with the most visible results: a sparkling, clean bathroom.

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one sentence' journal

I am so grateful on May 19, 2010

I am grateful for… wishcasting wednesday and its creator, Jamie Ridley, for bringing about more insights.

Ta-Da list concept!

Samuel’s ability to read music and teach himself (!) the harmonica, just like that.

Insta-discoveries

Poetry

My sparkling clean bathroom

I am soooo grateful.

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

May 19 Morning Pages a la 750 Words.com

Have = results – So the having is because I did something or sometimes didn’t necessarily do something in the then and there but simply because of who I am, usually after investing time in being exactly who I am. When I DO something, I take action. Intentional action, based in love not fear. Hope not prevention of further crisis!
Be = presence around intangibles. Being is that formless place that somehow impacts every other formed thing out there. You know, the countenance – that glow that pulling that magnetism that can’t be defined or captured with words and yet, is conveyed in infinite numbers of words. Be – Do – need to be in line in order to HAVE… or rather, on the same infinite loop-de-loop continuum. (reminder to self: look up home funeral thingeemabobber)

dread, grasp, pacify are the three words on Three Word Wednesday and I wrote something so familiar it got on my nerves, so I am going to play around with an addendum or rather weave what feels like an addendum into the poem itself to give it more texture and less “ho-hum, it is another of these familiar khaki pants we are seeing everywhere this year.”

Pacify – pursuade me to believe the not-so-believable
“He loves you” or “You will be safe” or “for better or worse”
Mean anything when all you see is his back
As he walks away, leaving you alone with the babies
The house, the stigma, the memory
the mortage, the bill collectors, the church committee members
the parents the clogged drain in the kitchen
the piles of clothes in the closet and your socks
which seem to appear everywhere at the most
inopportune times, like the first time she was
brave enough to bring a man into her home to
assuage the needy loneliness that coats everything,
the phone calls to friends to ask for coffee dates
the chats with the mail carrier the notes to the teacher
praying for progress because you left those meetings behind as well
the privilege he once had is gone
(Pronouns perplex me sometimes and interrupt my writing, just like that.
What stupid pronoun should I use now? Comes the glaring thought
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.
Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do. Yes I do.

Katherine is being a diva again, holding her father hostage. The phone rings, I assure all that yes, ofcourse I can and YES naturally I will and rolling my eyes I add it to my to do for the day when mostly all I want to do is paint. My time now for other things is sliding. Slipping. Rolling under the table to find the balls of fluff and the cast off playing cards (I wondered where that ace of spades had gone to!)

Icy blue edge of dread
square cubes, melting
Leaves hope just out of grasp
dandelion seeds, spraying
across verdant green
Spirit left, the Almost hovers,
like the ghost of christmas yet to be
Her eyes see only the back seam of
His blue oxford shirt and the
Well worn soles of his loafers
As he opens the car door without
Looking her way she stands
and waits and waits and waits and
fills herself with the what was missing
when he was here no reason, then
to hang her head and she finds, quite
by surprise, when she is left alone with the babies
The house, the stigma, the memories,
the mortage, the bill collectors, the church
committee members the parents the
clogged drain in the kitchen, the PTA
the piles of clothes in the closet and his
undarned socks that her shoulders
are suddenly falling into place rather
than living in the space right beneath
her ears.

She feels herself exhale

Blue eyes fixed on the floor see a pair
of small feet next to hers, attached to
small legs and small hands and a pair of
blue eyes, matching hers. The small mouth
smiles and she vaguely hears “I love you, Mommy”
Hope floats on the words of the child
the splintered seam of her pink pajamas
ironically spoke everything’s okness
she opened the kitchen door

Through the clouds of her heart’s chatter
She… ok, decent rough draft, my love.
Time to move along.

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

I bought one of her unexpurgated diaries

the one where her stillbirth occurs.

Looking forward to diving in, even the first pages pull the reader, deeply. There is a relationship from my past which her words remind me…. strange, uncanny, actually.

I need to copy the quotes.

See more progress on: April Goal: Study the Life and Work of Anais Nin

Psalm 18

It seems as if every day when I read a Psalm (which I have been doing daily if not posting) there is a message specifically for me.

Today’s message is

“I love you, God, you make me strong”...

Psalm 18 is a long one.

I got tired reading it!

See more progress on: May 2010 Goal: Read, pray, study, contemplate one Psalm Daily

A Haiku Duet on May 18

Drops from last night’s rain /
turn mulberries into soup /
God winks through the clouds

He tells of his plan –
all I hear is blah blah blah –
when will he let me be?

See more progress on: write a (sloppy, half-formed if need be) poem every day (or so) during May 2010

May 18 gratitude....

I am so grateful for the weather

empowering rehearsals for “Dear Harvey”

my notebooks

giggles with Samuel

candles

the concept of receiving as an act of grace and a spiritual practice

I am so grateful.

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

May 18

I can’t find the papers I wanted to use as writing prompts today. Frustrating. I’m seeking them. They’re missing. Wanted to work on (and through) my memories. I love you, God, wanna lend a hand? (interesting to think of ineffectiveness and then looking up and feeling a little bit like a dog, begging for a bone.)

I need to sweep the hall and kitchen, straighten the living room and clean… clean. Dishes, laundry, that sort of thing. Clickety clack through the list, tirelessly.

God is bedrock under my feet says Psalm 18 today. I need to write the LiaSophia letter, Write DPA, call Karen. I need to work on my lines, work on my lines, work on my lines. I know my lines. I know abundance. I know. The dance with plenty. I know this. Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Above resoluntions. Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Above resolutions. Revisit goals, 101 from 2010.

Reach goals. Publish chap books, This business can help with all of that, the funding stuff especially. The being uncomfortable, especially. Build my business and fund projects, fund education, the administration, the underpinnings, the road ways and the how-tos are built in. Learn from them. Live the question. I need to simply move my pen. I cleared the table. I need to buy groceries. Write. Sweep for cobwebs.

(Write an inverted to do list! A Ta-Da list!)

Movement. Pterodactyl. Follow the leader.

Huh? Where did the “Pterodactyl. Follow the leader.” come from, anyway? How absurd is that?! LOL! Move my writing projects forward.

2 Chapters of book, complete ebook, blog posts, newsletters, marketing campaigns… reignite the writing flame. (So cheesy, I hate stuff written like that!) Anyway.
Let me come up with other things. Other reasons. Others.
I move my pencil. I want to build this business. I am preparing maybe for Emma. I don’t know, I feel lost, somewhat. Do I feel abandoned? By whom?> Myself, perhapos. Just slightly lost. (plentiful typos). I don’t know how to say what I want, my biggest barrier, nah. My biggest cop out. It is simple, though, to move. My resistance is ever surprising. I have a brief conversation, why people can’t see I am writing so leave me be for what, ten minutes, rather than clattering inside here with your gobbledy gook, your goo your whatever the heck agenda you want to throw in front of me, leave it behind, PLEASE!

Barrel. Inflated, Rubber and empty belt loops. Tool belt. Belt loops. Address book, the goat across the street bellows. Baaaah Baaaah baaaah. Bird feasts. Drops from last night’s rain. Haiku askes to be born:

Drops from last night’s rain / turn mulberries into soup / God winks through the clouds

I haven’t written haiku in a while and OH! it feels so good! Another haiku reaches out through my throat.

He tells of his plan – all I hear is blah blah blah – when will he let me be?

Samuel talks about his “How to play the guitar” book. Layer my to-do’s. Print my to-do list. Find out how I want to invest my time. Record poetry. Post it. Sell it. Reflect. Contemplate. Act.

Simple action. Movement. Sincerity.

Last page. This is the last page of my notebook. Final chapter. It started on a just complete with the rainy day in Massachusetts and now it is ending on a rainy day in Bakersfield, a month and change later.

Final chapter
do we ever know
I got carded as the
chapter labeled Hamletmachine
ended, the chime rang for
the final time, closed the last
page of Hamletmachine
it turned, it closed, it left
the building.

The Ex is through the stage. Talk to those people and those and those and those. I’m used to that: talking to all. Sharing. Putting me out there, helping them to believe in me. Helicopter makes its way to the hospital, loudly, carrying ailing human cargo. Makes me wonder about my neighbor who has been unseen for the last few days, don’t know what of her baby. Poor thing. I release my shoulders. I prepare to write the final words.

I wrote backwards in that notebook:
Planned my final words before
offering them to you.
Plotted their spaces and
wrote into them, after
from the other side knowing
and dreading the ending.
I no longer know what I wrote
except I couldn’t continue
my monologue when dialogue
was what my heart sought.

I kept writing. I found words. I
attempted to communicate. I didn’t
stay silent. I moved my pen.
It found its message.
The message found its footing.
I breathed it into existence.
I put this notebook on the shelf,
next to all the others. Write DPA

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

On a 22 Day Streak - (Neglected Public Posting) and here is May 17.... unedited...

Dare I write?

Dare I respond to these questions, sitting right here – on my shoulder, waiting? Dare I? Dare I? Dare I?

Yes. I dare.

Psalm 17 – Listen while I build my case, GOD, the most honest prayer you’ll ever hear.

“Julie in full flower”

Julie in full flower – the center of a daisy sort of flower, leaves to be plucked, “She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not, she loves me. Really. Loves. Me.

the leaves of a nasturtium, which blossoms without care, without much water, just happily, unwaveringly fends for herself – nasturtiums. That is one of them.

The rose, which opens slowly, center unseen until courage awakens, softly, slowly,

The flirtatious sunflower. Beautiful in its sentient play. It must be sentient, musn’t it?

Who is Julie in full flower?

I am all of these flowers at some point.

I think some people think “full flower” means “positive” or “agreeable” or “acceptable” – I see it more like “fully expressed” which is sometimes dark, sometimes light – and it is my own, it isn’t seeking dark or light it is seeking, simply, full experience. (Oh, crap, I have only written 237 words? Ohmigawsh.

I replay Dan Fogelburg. Dan, help me.

Psalm 17 – Listen while I build my case, GOD, the most honest prayer you’ll ever hear.

What exudes from Julie’s personality? People call me bubbly, happy, curious, friendly.
I would rather be thoughtful, contemplative, generous, a bridge-builder and those are all true, too. Would people say FEAR? Would people say snooty, snobby? Would people say, “I’ll take it, anyway.” I wonder. Would people say that?

What’s possible for full-flower Julie?

The full flower Julie is capable of anything, really. She is bold and courageous. She opens her arms and lets go, fearless, intrepid, words coming into her like some sort of dervish on fire that doesn’t consume, it just flares and flares and flamenco’s through the universe. Full-flower Julie is both bubbly and strong. She is undefinable. Distinct. Flavorful. Julie. Full-flower Julie. 411 words. Slow on the uptake today. Argh.

Listen while I build my case, GOD, the most honest prayer you’ll ever hear.

I always think prayer isn’t building a case, prayer is being present. Prayer is “hanging out” prayer is not concerned with convincing. Prayer is a conversation, a meeting of hearts, of souls, of… I can’t wrap words around it, and prayer is like that – the different than language place, the above language place. the space in between language and expression.

Remember connection and community
Remember connection and community
Remember connection and community
Remember connection and community
Remember connection and community
Remember connection and community
purple purple purple purple purple purpose purple purpose purple purpose purple purple purpose purple purpose we know we know we know we know we know remember connection and community remember connection and community remember connection and community remember connection and community remember connection and community remember connection and community. What are my watch words? Where do I want to go?

Where do I want to live.
Short term goals. Need to put them on the forefront!

examine me from inside out,
surprise me in the middle of the night—
You’ll find I’m just what I say I am.
My words don’t run loose.

ARGH! Still so far!

What colours shine?

Purple gold fushia

What dreams flow freely?

publishing being loved soulfulness art

What pours out of your heart and into the world?

expression friendliness connection playfulness

Julie -You in full flower – what a dream!

Beautiful….

Sometimes I can connect with that word, beautiful. Most of the time I just think ordinary splattered with the occasional unique combination. I need to write. I need to get DPA out. I need to write. I need to get DPA out. People are waiting. I need to publich. I need to get my calendar together and DO IT! I need to get parties booked NOW! I need to stop lollygagging!

I have read through today. I need to step into the promise of it now.

PLEASE!

Nothing else will be any better, really. And I know I can do this. Then why do I stop, hesitate not know?

ARGH!

I am frustrated because I just don’t know and I don’t know that I want to do this. I stumble, I fret, I believe I don’t know. I am terrified of the not knowing the not being able to the numbers which settle right into my gut andfdon’t go away and I hate typos and I am messing up and I don’t w2ant to fix I will just keep it just like this!

It catches up with me as I pass onto the 22 day streak right in the nick of time.

THANK YOU!

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

On Monday, May 17, I am so grateful for....

the candle I lit which is on my desk, reminding me of light, love, hope and connection.

Live365. And the Canadian voice that just rang out across it. :-)

My vision board which reminds me

Poetry

Tears

Process

My notebooks

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

May 17 One Word (Destiny) Inspired Poem

*Yep, it was the folks at ONEWORD.com who gave me the word “Destiny” to play with which really annoyed me after last night. I am kind of laughing to see the poem that flew from my fingers in sixty seconds (the parameters of OneWord.com.)

This pisses me off today
this word, destiny
are you kidding me
shitting me
throwing me a
lace covered bone?

I don’t want to contemplate mystery
I don’t want to stumble through bullshit
I want to be left alone and let
destiny find me
I won’t sneer when it arrives but
really
are you kidding me?

See more progress on: write a (sloppy, half-formed if need be) poem every day (or so) during May 2010

May 13 Poem - Blot

blot violent blot
covered my don’t’s
and sucked my
tears back inside
tar stains my
heels, grags my
“No” and “Don’t”
down, now only
sludge remains
alone and reminds
me of the
“Don’t live” refrain
Don’t cry
Don’t indulge in
emotion orgies

don’t blots
memories
leaves life
unexpressed
don’t
blot
don’t’s

See more progress on: write a (sloppy, half-formed if need be) poem every day (or so) during May 2010

May 13 Poem - Blot

blot violent blot
covered my don’t’s
and sucked my
tears back inside
tar stains my
heels, grags my
“No” and “Don’t”
down, now only
sludge remains
alone and reminds
me of the
“Don’t live” refrain
Don’t cry
Don’t indulge in
emotion orgies

don’t blots
memories
leaves life
unexpressed
don’t
blot
don’t’s

See more progress on: write a (sloppy, half-formed if need be) poem every day (or so) during May 2010

Grateful on May 13

I am grateful that at this time tomorrow, today will be over
I am grateful Michael gave me off last night for rehearsal
I am grateful I was able to get almost seven hours of sleep
I am grateful for the Art and Spirituality Center at Mercy Hospital
I am grateful for paint
I am grateful for Coryn
I am grateful my actors are doing so well
I am grateful for my cell phone
I am grateful for 750words.com
I am grateful for my consistent writing
I am grateful I was awake for the sunrise
I am grateful

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

One Sentence Journal - May 12, 2010

Michael gave me the night off from “Dear Harvey” rehearsals which gave me a chance to rest some more.

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one sentence' journal

May 12 Morning Pages a la 750 Words

I take it to the page. The underlying niggle in my belly that says “Today is Samuel’s IEP. Educators. Can’t trust them. Do people know about the IEP? Should I have done more to coordinate it? Who can I trust? How can I best serve my son? Can I just climb back into a shell and bring him with me and not care. How does one create community in the classroom? How can I help Sam not get bullied or left out or scared. How can I be sure I don’t get bullied or left out or scared when that is the reality of what I feel?

I take it to the page. To practice being like King David when he said, “I want to look life in the eye” when I move forward, add words to the tally. Know tomorrow at this time, these items will be off my to-do list. All of which, in May, are ridiculously long.

I want to look life in the eye. (I’m so full of answered prayers!) <<- Note to self: I want to be that person. Simple intention, merged with action. Paint. Pick up brush, cover with water, cover with paint. touch paper with paint. Repeat. Step back. Sit. Journal. Breathe.

Simple intention – Look. Action = stepping into the gold of sunrise. Morning wakes up. Multisenses sound-hear-look at birds cars train whistle feel-with-the-skin look crisp air before the heat assault See-Look – pale grey shadows of the morning. Mulberry banquet.

I want to look life in the eye. I’m so full of answered prayer.

Milk dud box bought out of
empty sat no selfishness
caramel or liturgical
chocolate to consumption
be found empty
on my desk for five days
(Well, it was mother’s day)

That new form is a blast and here I sit, just over the 300 word counter. I turn my notebook page to see what I wrote next.
I lose words when I paint I can look life in the eye I just can’t process, can’t make meaning from words or substance. I know blue teal green peace how did that pink appear and make itself be heard? I want to look life in the eye.

“I’m on my way to heal the ache in the heart of the wretched.”

A blot voilent blot
covered my don’t’s
and sucked my
tears up
tar stains my
heel, pulls my
“No” and “Don’t”
sludge remains
alone and reminds
me of the
“Don’t live” refrain
Don’t cry
Don’t indulge in
emotion orgies
don’t blots
memories

“I want to look life in the eye” and
“I’m on my way to heal the ache of the
heart of the wretched”

Thank you, King David. Thank you.

I turn the page.

Simple intention merged with action
Mindful swimming
Scary requests
Standing tall/firm/knowing
world changing don’t buy into
mottled grey black bullshit

Coryn said, “I always feel better when I leave here than when I got here.”

Not exactly that formalized but close enough.

I left my painting unfinished. She is becoming a tree, my sweet heart.
I settle into my porch seat, wondering where the red ford, 1940’s era with the driver who waves at me. Where is he/it today?

I hear footsteps inside.

June make a goal for metrical poetry (is it Kyrie? Look it up, French metrical poem.) Look life in the eye. I want to look life in the eye.

Look life in the eye.
Look life in the eye.
Say it. Look life in the eye.
Feel it. Look life in the eye.
Know it is safe to look life in the eye.
Be bold and look life in the eye.
Don’t argue, look life in the eye.
Look life in the eye.
Look life in the eye.
Look life in the eye.
Look life in the eye.
Look life in the eye.
So weird to not be spoken to, really.
Odd. Look life in the eye.
Look life in the eye.
what was that one about?
I didn’t get it.
Look life in the eye.
Look life in the eye.

Look life in the nose.
Smell life in the eye.
Punch life in the eye.
Touch life in the eye.
What brand of hope do you sell?
What brand of hope do you smell.
What brand of hope do you buy?
Look life in the eye to discern what brand of hope you buy
Only a few more lines and I should be done.
Move my fingers
Move my tongue.
Speak. Write. Breathe. Move. Know.
Look life in the eye.
I think I am on a 18 day streak. It is good.

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

May 13/Psalm 13 Says, with me...

“I want to look life in the eye…”

Love that line.

As I read, I felt like I was chatting with the Psalmist, David… “Really? You, too?” Great stuff.

See more progress on: May 2010 Goal: Read, pray, study, contemplate one Psalm Daily

Today, May 12, I am so grateful for....

The time swimming with Emma yesterday. My knees hurt a bit, but this is good because each time I work them out, the pain goes a way a bit more. Strange, how pain is part of the healing, apparently.

Rehearsal for Trotsky was so fun!! The show is coming along beautifully and by Friday they will be SOOOO ready!!

Rehearsal for “Dear Harvey” – the toughest thing is not blurting notes and comments… (working on that!)

The fabulous props made (with love) by Cmore… the wig/ax and bell are great!

My journal….

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

Today, May 12, I am so grateful for....

The time swimming with Emma yesterday. My knees hurt a bit, but this is good because each time I work them out, the pain goes a way a bit more. Strange, how pain is part of the healing, apparently.

Rehearsal for Trotsky was so fun!! The show is coming along beautifully and by Friday they will be SOOOO ready!!

Rehearsal for “Dear Harvey” – the toughest thing is not blurting notes and comments… (working on that!)

The fabulous props made (with love) by Cmore… the wig/ax and bell are great!

My journal….

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

One Word Journal: May 11, 2010

movement

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one word' journal

One Sentence Journal for May 11, 2010

I loved floating on my back and looking at the pipe overhead, simultaneous exercise and surrendering to the water holding me up.

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one sentence' journal

May 12 Morning Pages a la 750 Words

Still writing, writing, writing… 19 day streak going now!

What do I wish to experience? That is the question of the week at Jamie Ridler’s studio: our question, a community question. What do I wish to experience?

I could use an anstract concept – freedom. I could say “I want to experience freedom” but without a concrete or tangible description, I am left hanging. It is like a movie you go to see where you see only the background and the camera stays still. No people, no dialogue, no interaction, no build – just background, non-descript, you don’t know what or where that is:…

So, I will create here, on wishcasting day – what freedom is to me – the “what I wish to experience” as freedom.

I wish to experience freedom through plenty in every aspect of my life. The first that springs to my mind and heart feels like this: time freedom – enough moments with no agenda, simply intention merged with action. Some people might assign agenda to that, to me – intention merged with action is the sweetest collaboration with Divinity. It is like my trips chasing the sunset. I choose a location (oftentimes with sacred nudging) like the road from Bakersfield to Glennville, for example, and we drive. We find cool spots and we photograph and we laugh and we breathe and we stand on bridges and giggle and skip stones of any creeks we find, not because there is a purpose other people can see, but because we feel light when we do it and it fuels all the “important stuff” we are up to as world changers, as lovers of humanity, as visionaries striving – playing to bring into form what we know is true.

I wish to experience freedom through plenty in every aspect of my life. I want to have enough financial flow and money freedom in and around me so that there are no worries about paying for anything or having enough cash flow for whatever my heart desires, whatever “stuff” I need to fulfill my role as a world changer: I don’t hold on too tightly, I don’t have to say “no” unless it is an empowered, choice driven “no”. I can support the charities I want to support, I can give contributions to causes that call to me. When I experience freedom through financial abundance, I have more than enough. I am conscious of the plenty, grateful for the plenty, generous with the plenty. I wish to experience financial prosperity in every aspect of my life.

I wish to experience community through relationship abundance in every aspect of my life. I am especially blessed in this department in my here and now, though I want to (always) grow my relationships richer and deeper. I want to take conversations farther, I want to have more friends I love in relationship with each other. I want to host more events because I love to entertain, just don’t do it very often these days. I wish to experience relationship abundance in every aspect of my life: professionally, spiritually, creatively, as a mom, a sister, a networker, as a world changer. I want to be a part of knitting people together, connecting them, being that bridge to other people’s freedom in community. Interesting. I am seeing “exponential” freedom or freedom that multiplies. Cool concept to explore…

I wish to experience creative abundance, in every aspect of art. I want to create whatever stirs me. This is another area where it is flowing, flowing, flowing – but still, I feel this urge to do whatever comes along that I like simply because (if I am honest, I will say it so I will) I have this underlying fear the opportunity won’t spring back to form. “If I don’t grab this role now, if I don’t audition for this or that, if I don’t take this photo, if I don’t write this poem, if I don’t write this essay – I will never have the option to do it again.” I want to experience abundance in my creativity – freedom to create and a trust in Divinity that yes, what I wish will be delivered exactly as it is meant to be delivered. I don’t have control, anyway, as ridiculous as it seems to me to think I am the one at the helm. After all, collaborative art is my favorite art.

I wish to experience spiritual abundance. Time to study, to grow, to connect with Divinity and others, what I like to call “Divinity with skin”. The study of the Psalms I am doing right now in my playful homage to the Benedictine Monk that lives within my spirit, is helping with that. I am experiencing such joy from it and it is so very simple. That is how freedom is: very very simple. So that means opening my Bible – The Message is my favored version – and reading, and interacting with the scripture and loving the words, the energy, the time there. The writing that comes, the prayer and insights that come delight me to my core. I wish to experience more people who praise and worship and pray along the lines which I do, like finding Sister Sherry who then read Hafiz. Never thought I would find a Nun who apparently loves the Sufi mystics as much as I love the Sufi mystics. There is freedom, for me, in finding Christians who can admit “I love the Sufi mystics!” rather than hide our Rumi books in closets and never think of sharing the poetry with one another. Freedom.

There is so much more I could write about each of these experiences of Freedom.

Perhaps that will be one of my assignments this week. (I wish to experience the joy of doing assignments, of living the wish casting questions rather than just wish them and not return to them.)

I wish to experience living the question: In what ways do I wish to experience freedom?

Care to join me?

In what ways do you wish to experience freedom?

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

One Word Journal: May 10, 2010

Monday

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one word' journal

One Sentence Journal: May 10, 2010

I was shocked at how smoothly Trotsky rehearsal went and then, that I managed to stay awake and alert at Dear Harvey rehearsal.

See more progress on: reflect daily in a 'one sentence' journal

I am sooo grateful on May 11 (even if I haven't posted in a few day!)

I am grateful the weather is still cool

I am grateful for the scent of fresh mown grass

I am grateful for the scent of lavender as I wrote, outside, on my porch this morning.

I am grateful I live in a neighborhood where people walk in the morning and we all greet each other.

I am grateful for my variety of “in progress” art projects

I am grateful for my full calendar

I am grateful my rehearsals are going well

I am grateful today Emma and I will finally go swimming!

I am grateful, simply grateful.

See more progress on: Daily: Reflect on at least 5 things for which I'm grateful (Happiness Manifesto #2)

May 11 Morning Pages a la 750words.com

I am on a 16 day streak, started in April!

Today is my eleventh day of writing in May. Writing in May. I write. In May, today. My fingers move and I celebrate the end of flipping Mercury retrograde. It is not, wait – it is only 8:30 and hopefully by 8:45 I will be moving right along. I will take my phone to get charged. I will take Samuel’s invitations to VAC and to Harris School. I will call Noble and see about visiting the classrooms, even if I am not convinced and do not want to send him there, we will at least play along… it is such a joke.

I type. My fingers move. Yesterday I swept mulberries from the Martinez driveway. Today, their van is parked there. Birds nibbled, plucked mulberries right from the branches of the tree and it made me feel so abundant. I helped feed the birds – I helped feed the birds by insisting the tree and its fruit, stay.

Hank and Rainer sleep. I need to see if Maren and Viola are ok with dogs. I have 81 points, like a strike, in bowling, my numbers keep accruing. I am a nut, I love this and am competitive enough to just keep it going.

I write. I love to write.

I am a writer.
I am a writer who enjoys

I am a writer who enjoys writing poetry.
See poetry flourish in me. Love, love increase.
Love the increase.
Rehearsal went well last night. I had fun and was goofy. Everyone got up, everyone was moving and grooving. Everyone was enjoying everyone else. I smiled when I watched. Today I have double rehearsals and Wednesday I have double rehearsals. I will do my best to be on time for my rehearsal on Thursday but I have Katherine and she comes first, every time. She has to come first, beloved one. I smile, thinking it.

Love the increase. Add to the increase. Enjoy the increase. Move to the increase. Recycle the fact that retrograde is almost belovedly behind us.

Katherine Hannah Scott. Hannah. Katherine Hannah Scott is about to graduate from East Bakersfield High School. She has done well, my sweet love. Emma doesn’t want to go to EBHS she wants to go to BHS I want her to go someplace far, far away. Praying. New Hampshire. Waldorf school, something like that.

What do I want?
What do I want?
What do I want?

Published books.
Sepia.
Beauty. Pain. Grit. Sandpaper. Collage art. Open boxes. Rocks. Collections. Recollections. Remember. Connection. Community. Balance. WE are at more than 400 words so I keep typing, just keep swimming, just keep typing, come up with something for DPA that makes you sing, Julie. Allow it to move you forward, allow it to call your name. Allow it to simmer in your blood stream. Allow yourself to love well, love, well, love, well. LOVE WELL>

Love into the increase. Bend into the increase. Hilarious. Ohmigawsh that was crazy last night, when I was hilariously Robin Tyler. Or trying to be. The energy helped a lot. I hope I translated into something. The one who is still a tad bit reserved with me is Kendall. She probably taps into the same. We need to find connections, the group of us. It is so very easy with Paul SO very easy.
“I saw that!” said Crystal. I wonder if it is weird for her, to tap into the creative community when she has sat on the outside for so long. I wonder. I want to find love, find people, find hope, find sanctuary. That is why I love that place at Mercy so much. It is a sanctuary, it is a chapel. It is a place of hope, I place of love, a place of growth. I want to walk into it tomorrow, set up my stuff and just let it go, allow the clouds to find me. Allow the colors to make themselves known.
I wonder if the flowers will reappear. I don’t know that I want them to appear. I kind of no I definitely want the flowers to just stay the heck away. It will be interesting to watch the other shows show up. Summer, off. Writing workshops, on. Early morning, on. Seems strange but feels just right. At Hart Park, 7 am. That might work if it is early enough. On a Saturday at 7 AM. Hmmm. I sort of like that. I am almost, somehow to my word count. I didn’t realize I was getting close, but here I am, close and up and over just like that! TA DA!! I am on a 16 day streak and I am meeting my May challenge head (or is it fingers tapping on the keyboard?) on…

Write on, right on!

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

May 10 Morning Pages a la 750words.com

The road to a friend’s house is never long. Psalm 10: Where are you when I need you?
The road to a friend’s house is never long. Psalm 10: Where are you when I need you?
The road to a friend’s house is never long. Psalm 10: Where are you when I need you?
The road to a friend’s house is never long. Psalm 10: Where are you when I need you?

Working on the collage today, the mixed-media project with haiku and Helen Gardner (again) and self portraits. I was swooshing mod podge thinking I was never one of those moms to hang a lot with other moms doing the kid schlep or trading recipes. Talking, yes, connecting, yes. Housewifey stuff? Never. Sometimes I wished I was and I longed to be accepted or accept that stuff myself, but I didn’t feel – I remember it didn’t feel like there were any roads to any friends houses.

Didn’t feel it, wasn’t feeling it.

Now, I have many friends of many ages and a wide berth of fascinations to follow. There are Moms, there are single young women, there are men. Right now I am in a quandary in a not-sure-what’s-next phase. I feel like I want to take off and move someplace but I love this house and don’t want to leave it.

What is up with me holding on so much? I can’t get a fresh start when I hold on so tightly. I know this, instinctively, intuitively I KNOW it. I stop writing. I can’t stop writing if I want to get points I need to keep my pencil moving, so to speak. I am at 275 words which means about a third. Only a third.

It rained yesterday, surprised the heck out of me. Made my picnic a little bit less delightful. I wanted to run and play. We sat. Oh, well. I was so tired. I think my iron is low, the way I am so blahdy blah. I loved the movie we say last night, “Our family wedding” and I especially loved the audiences reactions. That was right up there with how good the movie was, the reactions of the audience, laughing howling hooting and hollering.

Laughter. Casting. Working on casting. Floating, giving, surrounding, loving not exactly knowing. I wrote this long ass post for Creative Every Day and so far only one response. Detach from outcomes, slug but.

The road to a friend’s house is never long…

I remember
when the roads
were few and the houses
even fewer

I stayed
confined then
to my space
within my space

The roads
were barren
invisible or downright
dangerous, I thought

Envy baked
and crusted over
mysterious caverns
unreachable
unscalable
unsurmountable
unbridged moats
rested in the inbetween
the un and the
broken so I stayed
tucked away on the
other side, the one
which never learned
the adage, the belief
the road to a friend’s
house can’t exist if
there aren’t any
friends

Whoa, intense. Intent.
People of my now would
be shocked to read of such
isolation but that is what happens
when depression goes unnoticed
I remember one friend yelling
at me about my depression
saying I needed to just do something about
it but you know, when you are in the midst
of it, thinking your voice, your breathe your
foot lifting off the ground is an abomination,
how does one get the energy to reach
into the space and say “where is the
road and how do I traverse it, how do
I know when I knock, you won’t send me
away to repair myself on my own?”

The risks always felt greater than the possible reward so I stayed, in my hovel.

Like a dog at the SPCA in the crate marked “unadoptable” there was a time I felt unfriendable.

One hundred ten words left.

Writing sanctuary.
Sanctuary, writing.
Writing in a sanctuary.
Sanctuary for and of and around writing.

I have been looking forward to the open studio hours since I left last week. I have wanted to throw dabble allow the paint to speak to me. Put paint on the paper, wet it, move to another paper, put paint there. wait for it to dry. Journal. Up down. discover color splotch movement “What do I see?”

So well cared for there at the stuiod. I invite people, some show, dome don’t and it is all just right. Sister SHerry. She offers I open and wonder the old catholic question. Is that where I am supposed to be? What is the odd attraction, anyway? Aren’t I supposed to be elsewhere?

WHen was the last time I heard someone mention Hafiz in my church?

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

May 9 Morning Pages a la 750 Words.com

I didn’t write outside, on my porch, first. I am tired, would rather still be asleep. It’s Mother’s Day and I am set to teach Sunday School and am grateful it is primarily a video today. My eye lids are heavy. I need to write a poem, take photos, relax and enjoy today.

We start tech tomorrow. Our focus will be on costumes and running the show. Running, running, running the show. Hopefully it will go quickly and we will be in and out without a problem.

Cameron has gotten us some great stuff. I am grateful.

Last night was closing night for both R and G and Hamletmachine. I am so grateful those are over! Now I need to prepare myself for the rest of Dear Harvey and then finito. Yay. I don’t even remember to throw Trotsky and Template into the mix. They are there. But I am not thinking about them.

Friday, Trotsky will be done and then I have two weeks until Dear Harvey.

Jason was generous with compliments last night. Digested them, Charlotte Wallace makes her guest appearance. Bob took the words in as well. I wish I had more time with talking to him. Don’t want to think about Cat as in the roof. Don’t want to think about pronouns.

My typing speed is slower than normal today. I will keep moving my fingers. What is my focus? I haven’t read my Psalm today, don’t know that focus dag nabbit and don’t want to be distracted. AHHH!

So I come back, pray the distraction isn’t going to count. PLEASE don’t let it count. Let my words flow onto the page. Wonder, I wonder, about what… ok, let’s see what it says… I’m thanking you, God, from a full heart, I’m writing the book on your wonders.
I’m whistling, laughing, and jumping for joy;
I’m singing your song, High God.

I’m thanking you, God, from a full heart.

What if I simply said THANK YOU, God from a full heart.
Thanks, God, from a full heart.
Thanks, God, from this full heart.
THANKS, beloved God, from this full heart.

Woot! Woot! from this overflowing heart. Ka chunk Ka chunk Ka chunk.

Alex got married. Everyone must feel blessed and grateful. She looks exceptionally happy and it is odd to not see her very much.

Thanks, God, from this full heart.
Thanks, God, from THIS FULL HEART!
Thanks, God FOR this full heart!

My hands move faster when I climb into THANKS, GOD! for this full heart. THANKS! GOD! for this full heart. 428, 429. Movement movement movement.

God’s a safe-house for the battered,
a sanctuary during bad times.
The moment you arrive, you relax;
you’re never sorry you knocked.
God’s a safe-house for the battered.

Sanctuary. Sanctuary. Sanctuary. Sanctuary. Sanctuary. Sanctuary.

No pronoun proclamations, just love abundantly in sanctuary. Sanctuary. Safe house which is colorful, sacred. Air of holiness. Embrace of holiness.

Holy embrace. Love. Abundant. Receiving. Receive poetry. Receive poetry. Love. Abundant receive poetry.

Write short today.
Write crisp today.
Let thoughts meander and stop.
Succinct. At the doorway marked
“Words held here”
with grace?
No, not fitting.
with hope?
No, not fitting.
With dexterity?
Not explainable.
Love.
Love.
Love.
Words.
Love words.
Love words, love life.
Abundant.Receiving, Increase.
Add to the increase.
Abundant arts and living. My children.
Love. Love.
Love.
Abundant arts receiving increase.
Abundant arts receiving increase sanctuary.
Beloved.
Beloved.
Beloved.
Looking forward to Wednesday. Poignant. Enjoyed it. Face says, “Tell me you enjoyed it” I enjoyed it. “Tell me it spoke to you.” “It spoke to me. “Tell me the risks were plentiful.” The risks were plentiful and you were bold.
My life is a constant reflection of courage and bravery.
Leap into courage and bravery. Tip toe into courage and bravery. Wear courage as your hat, boldness as your shoes. Slow, fast, no matter. Just sink yourself into them, those clothes that you wear. Over the top. Over the top. Over the top.
Shout.
Scream
Proclaim
Promulgate.
Abundant increase sanctuary community.
Remember connection blooms.
Remember, connection blooms.
Remember connection blooms in the increase.
Love Love Love Love
Grace and peasce be yours in abundance. May God give you heaven’s duew May God gfive you heaven’s dew./ May God give you heaven’s dew. I can barely write. May God give you heaven’s dew. May God give you heaven’s dew.
You let men ride over our heads.,
To learn, I say.
The moment you arrive, you relax;
you’re never sorry you knocked.
God’s a safe-house for the battered.
The moment you arrive, you relax.
You’re never sorry you knocked.
God’s a safe house for the battered.
Sanctuary.
Sanctuary.
Sanctuary.
Love abundant receiving an increase. Today.

THANK YOU!

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com

May 8 Poem

It is best for me to write early in the morning on weekends, I don’t spend much time at the keyboard. Today Samuel is begging for attention which I will gladly give his way as soon as I post this!

They touch base, sometimes
Want to be heard, sometimes
I swat them away, mosquitos or flies or
children’s repetitive nagging requests
buzzing about my ear
“leave me be” my mouth mutters
most of the time, though…

They stay buried in the box
within my chest, barely audible
only rolling and bumping about
when the storms get rough
stowaway memories
lost within the blue lines
words, images, textures
and colors – -

I notice the footprints scattered
about in the dust or its nibbles on
or bread crumbs, unremembered
left behind, unswept

See more progress on: write a (sloppy, half-formed if need be) poem every day (or so) during May 2010

May 8 Morning Pages a la 750 Words

I am on a 13 day streak – a flamingo… and I am not sure why I didn’t post here yesterday.

I wrote outside first, and came up with these words:

Will my stowaway poems, words, images break free, to join the others roaming around on the upper decks? I can’t fathom curiosity staying locked away, contained – abridged, condensed, in mask and costume. Silenced.

Check the laundry. I did.

They touch base, sometimes
Want to be heard, sometimes
I swat them away, mosquitos or flies or
children’s repetitive nagging requests
buzzing about my ear
“leave me be” my mouth mutters
most of the time, though…

They stay buried in the box
within my chest, barely audible
only rolling and bumping about
when the storms get rough
stowaway memories
lost within the blue lines
words, images, textures
and colors – -

I notice the footprints scattered
about in the dust or its nibbles on
or bread crumbs, unremembered
left behind, unswept

= = =

Stowaway. A worthy prompt when not tied into the arghs and ahoy maties that make so much stuff not quite worthy, not really right. Just sorta sluggish, those times. I don’t think pirates leaping or sword fighting or fleeing criminals, I think stowaways as in the ones I tuck away, the ones shame ignites.. the ones I hope no one finds or unearths as it may cause pain to me or to those I love. These are the stowaways which come to me.

Sometimes physical stowaways but more often energetic. Or thought stowaways.

Some people won’t stop talking to me, they are like physical “I wish you would stowaway out of my memory, out of my present, PLEASE go stowaway someplace!” Otherness.

Sitting on the porch, I watch the sun rise over the house which is for sale on Linden Avenue. The voice keeps nagging at me, much worse than my children. Rumble mumble humble gaudy, that voice.

Today in Psalm 8 my verse to take away is, “God, brilliant Lord, your name echoes around the world!”

What patterns am I enslaved to, Anais wonders in her quote today.

It is my pattern to disreguard what drains me (that words is misspelled – to ignore, to file away, to putter around but not inside what drains me. I cover it up with tangential activities, conversations, connections which I find more pleasing that cleaning up the gunk that gets stuck in the drain pipe. It starts to get smelly or foul and I just cover it up, ignore it.

I want to come to know Anais Nin. I want to know her more. I want to feel her presence, simmering in me, lusty and aware. Poetry. Until recently I never thought to wipe paint off the page. It seemed so odd. It just didn’t, wouldn’t didn’t think to come up. Forefront shows up, there. Right there, unstowed away. Attempting to not use the first person pronoun so often, wondering how that will work?

Tomorrow Sunday School is the task at hand. I will do it, with some level of excitement and enthusiasm. Eegads. That pronoun, pesky thing, popped up again right before the five-hundred word mark was cracked. Phew. Back. Darn.

Whenever the surname without my family name is used, the bile rises up. Makes itself tangible. Burns the throat, urges more vomit. Now that is a potent image.

Anais Nin had a stillbirth. Hurt washes over. Spray fixative on box, after lined with paper, the beautifully painted papers. Order new book. Thoughts of her in Nebraska. Remembering confirmation class and making faces across the sanctuary, more than likely noticed yet never mentioned. What is it?

What brings you to the heartland? What makes you stay there?

B/W selfie. Under, painted. “You’re not in the closet? You’re not in the hallway? Fuschia. Flowers. Never thought of painting flowers. Wouldn’t elect shouting. My knees, bend. The neighbors, slightly angry, hedges of anger are their moats or motes not sure how to spell. Less than one hundred words to go.

Do they hear the birds?

The tree trimmer tore the shade from the face here, when he shore the limbs from the pine tree, the gratitude garden tree.

Korn video exploits continue to amass. It needs to stop being the topic of conversation so frequently. Blahdy blahdy blah? Yes, something like that. “Life is a process of becoming”.. I check the laundry. It is close to ready. Run the water. The pronoun showed up again, but not pushed away for a change.

To do’s. Line box with backgrounds.
Post poem. Comment. Connect. Source.
Fix letters. Make plans for mothers day.
Prepare for Sunday School.

Allow gratitude to wash up around your feet your arms
your belly.

I am on a 13 day streak! This is so exciting!

See more progress on: Complete the May Challenge offered at 750Words.com