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