screams “sacramental”. Tender
screams “sacramental”. Tender
what do I wear?
and symptoms fall
Mar/re/ooh/na; verb; Let’s Dance
I went through the store trying to find a particular kind of eraser I used to love. Oh foolish me. All good products seem to disappear.
Thank you, but maybe not this eraser that spreads my mistakes around, magically darkening the crystallized regret to embed the paper with bloodied molecules of ridicule.
And you know how I hate melodrama…
I went home instead and started cleaning out some closets. So straight forward in theory. But I found all kinds of pieces that opened up holes in me. And filled them perfectly.
And then I emptied the pockets of an old purse I no longer used.
And there they were.
I had forgotten I used to carry them with me everywhere. I mean, you never know when you might need them.
How silly. I thought I had needed erasers.
“In Yolngu culture dance plays a pivotal role. There’s ceremonial dance, celebratory dance and then there’s Marryuna; to dance with no shame, to freestyle for the sheer elation of dancing.”
Here we go, just doing our thing. Living in bewilderment as we bump into each other stepping out of time machines. I just did so tonight, when I looked at the calendar and realised it’s been 2 years since I started blogging. I am pretty sure it was only a couple of months ago I wrote a post for my first anniversary. This post actually:
“So check it out, it has actually been a year today since I started my blog!
And I am a little drunk right now for all kinds of reasons, so I don’t plan to wax long and lyrical about what a freaking honour it has been. Okay, maybe just a little…”
I’m sure there is a perfect song somewhere to capture this credible moment in time. But it is almost the 8th now, and who cares really?
And, I also have glasses for my astigmatism and blah blah. I do see things differently. It’s been startling, to say the least.
This is me with my glasses, not looking startled. I texted this to my husband one night when he was working late, to show him I had started the fire. It made him laugh. I am not photogenic. But I consider this my “all I do is win” look. Which kind of goes without saying. Which also goes with the song I posted last year. And in case you can’t be bothered even looking, and who can blame you really, I will repost it for you. I love it.
(I have cut to the relevant moments).
PS, in case you didn’t know this about me, it’s not about winning. Unless, you consider not tripping every time I step out of that dang time machine, winning. In which case, I have been quite the winner lately. Could be my glasses…
Peace, love and perspective, Everyone. Thanks for enriching my life, I am so appreciative.
(originally posted Dec 2016)
attempts to alienate confusion
decaf, a necessary intrusion
I miss you.
float me past the contusions
the knots in my shadow crave fusion
I spill you.
the fragments in frosty perfection
arranging the shards of reflection
I see you.
memory’s space incandescing
cauterise weds convalescing
I place you.
the pieces not lifed in competing
the peace not in ice but the heating
tapestried sensed in the meeting
I love you.
She wanted to go back to the turquoise. She’d always loved the navy blue but now, her eyes sewn shut with the thread of trauma, she couldn’t tell if she were in the navy blue or the black. The black in his eyes when he showed her those images – jagged, psyche tearing shapes forced into her angel shaped child mind. It all changed that day. A contempt for beauty, for purity, smoked its way through her mortar and hallways. She swore her fingernails were green, bile green, from climbing the walls. She wanted to swim again in the navy blue but she knew she needed a shark cage now. She had to protect others from the sharks inside with her.
If she could just get back to the turquoise.
I thought long and hard about the quote for today. And a couple of bible verses kept coming back into my mind. For all kinds of reasons I won’t go into, I am thankful for them. So my quote for day 3 comes firstly from Paul’s letter to the church at Philippi:
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. (ch4:8).
And the one that got me intrigued about neuroplasticity in the first place, years ago:
“…but be transformed by the renewal of your mind…” (Rom 12:2b).
Thank you so much Erroneous Choices, for challenging me. ❤
So once again, I am not good at following rules, and I am not sure why there are any with these things, but anyway, I have decided I will try to stick with the three days.
My head could easily explode actually, trying to think of all of the things I have read and really loved. And then enter WordPress…I am flabbergasted at all of the wonderful things I have read on here – a lot of those gorgeous things from the artist who challenged me for this, actually, Erroneous Choices
But today, for all kinds of reasons, comic relief seemed to jump around in my mind.
A few years ago, I found this book I was planning to give to a friend. Turns out, the friend who received it was myself. ha! But it is called, ‘The Snark Handbook – Insult Edition’. Some of it is really funny. Some of it, really not.
I will begin with the poignant quotes on the back, about the author, Lawrence Dorfman:
“He knows so little and knows it so fluently” – by someone I have never heard of
“Ordinarily he is insane. But he has lucid moments when he is only stupid” – some Heinrich Heine guy (I told you I am bad with names).
But from the book itself, these are a few gems that have stuck out, that no doubt, I will be yelling out, accompanied by profanities, during my golden years of senility –
“He has depth but only on the surface”.
“The only thing that deprives her of the final word is an echo”.
“Why don’t we both go somewhere where we both can be alone?”
“Let’s play horse – I’ll be the head and you be yourself”.
“Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but you’re a total bitch”. (Stewie from Family Guy).
I am not sure how to sign off after that last piece of gold, other than to say, you are welcome! LOL. Peace, love, and perspective, Everyone ❤
Such an apt name for someone like me who is hopeless at remembering names and references! So this is quite a challenge! But I am honoured that this has come from someone I have grown to love as a dear friend, (not just as a phenomenal writing talent).
The wonder of WP, our lives are so different, but our connection is something I truly cherish, Erroneous Choices.
last night I had a dream,
about two bunnies…
and a tree.
A very lonely tree.
Erroneous Choices nominated me a little while ago for a Recognition award, and I completely missed it. I’m sorry dear friend. I’m so on another planet right now. And I’m constantly amazed by, and grateful for your recognition. Thank you!
We had the chance to see this extraordinary film today – the Song Keepers.
So gorgeously produced, it covers the story behind the rising fame of aboriginal choirs from Central Australia, continuing a legacy that was started by German Lutheran missionaries in the 1870s.
A little while ago I did mention something about trying to upload some audio, (after some other bloggers and I had chatted about it) but it did not work for me. And then today, I guess all the required satellites, imaginary and otherwise, somehow lined up perfectly and it worked!
Trigger warning, I do reference the clown in me, in case you missed all the other references from Captain Obvious *eye roll. Also, this is not very exciting.
“I’ll open up when everybody’s laughing”.
I’ve loved this song, this album, for ages. And I thought I should write a short thank you to everyone who reads and honours me with supportive comments on my blog (one that has no idea about its identity at times, but it’s fun!) and I have so enjoyed connecting with you through it. To steal another line from this song: “I’d go with you on a road to nowhere.”
*Trigger warning: there’s a picture of a clown in this post
I have started cleaning house.
I’m going to be brutal. (No, really…)
Then two days ago I found this.
It belonged to my twin brother.
Why I have it, I cannot answer.
(Mostly due to temporary paralysis, and now I just can’t remember).
But it is,
the stuff of nightmares.
(And italicized, centralised, poetic importance.)
And I swear, I heard some synapses burn out when I saw it. And others that absolutely refused to be created…
(Also, if you can, take a moment to listen to this…
Thanks to my friend erroneous choices, we are having some fun with the Liebster Award, ie, she nominated me. Thank you dear friend ❤
I was recently at my parents’.
And I saw this-
a small pin cushion I had made for my mother when I was in high school, when I first learnt some cross stitching.
I can’t believe my mother is now eighty years old, and she is still using it!
Her sense of humour well and truly intact, as that spear of a needle in its right ear, was, initially, right in the middle of her forehead (that innocent bunny’s, not my mother’s).
It is funny about memory, because I had completely forgotten about it, of course, but as soon as I saw it, I remembered how upset I was that I had made a stitching mistake on its left ear. And I had somehow missed a couple of stitches on the other ear. My sweet mother didn’t want me to fix it, but I remember how utterly crushed I was.
Yesterday I watched a video on a science site about intelligence.
Behold a short conversation I had with my husband this morning:
Me: I watched a video yesterday…blah blah…and it turns out I could be a perfectionist.
Husband: slowly closing refrigerator door…
come to think of it, I can’t describe, accurately, the look on his face…
I need a moment,
a moment measured only
in light years,
the oracular thread
by deepest tones
through past and present,
eyes so gently gently replaced
with brushes archeologically
bristling with Him,
joyful in newborn
the blind man was healed
and the tenses were spilled
and millennial mysteries unravelled
into new ravelling of me.
and the blind woman was healed
Inverted in space,
suspended in the north
with a southerly persuasion,
my heart grown in two,
I want to break off to keep,
but my weeping hands
sift the fractures in wrong places.
I hold on instead –
ached to this perfect petal,
floated away on familiar
originally posted 30th Jan, 2017
I really am a sucker for shiny.
The projected kind, that is.
Those little humans, the ones over there,
thoughtlessly shooting out
the sparkly ties that find.
The contagious giddy in the fleeting standstill.
in the collective, unspoken cradling
of the fragile glass of now.
Originally posted 26th Dec, 2016. I can’t believe it’s been a year…
For my friend’s adorable cat…and now, truly in his honour and with gratitude for the short time we spent together…(drawing by my niece).
furtively felining into the room,
unannounced, unruly fur unadorned,
blinking in reluctant wakefulness,
he stares into my dishevelled mind,
eyes sparking in the recognition of likes,
“it must take a long time brushing that out?”
pawing my cerebral textiles
for a loose thread of understanding,
I roll it into a ball
to play with later.
Weighed down by the fire
we sink into the magic napping carpet…
originally posted 9th Jan, 2017