Jul 30, 2012

Anti- Pity Party Poem

I am married to Ottis Redding, Jeff Buckley,  Joe Henry,
Thom Yorke, Grant Lee Philips
 Elton John
The teenage crushes, Bradley from Sublime, Bono,
 Heather Nova, P.J. Harvey
Every poet that sings to my soul
I'm not accepting the sentence given me,
 Not rushing life
Not when I don't feel sick
 not when they seem so rushed
To get me gone from bed to make empty for a better customer
A card not from the state,
 pills and instructions to make it someone else's problem
 If you've been avoiding me
you may reach out (I know you see it)
I may catch your fingertips as I'm running to life
Leaving death in nonacceptance and shriveling,
Yet it may all be true, and not much time is left.
I will paint and create, through fever I urge to
Put paint to canvas and paint out my lungs.
I feel like now is a good time for a memoir
In which I would only refer to my experiences
 leaving no blame behind for me
For my crazy journey
 for someone who's only been three thousand miles away
I've lived more life than many
Either way, it's the only insurance
 minus some savings bonds I could leave
Again nothing is sure,
 except most artists don't mean dick till dead
In which case I should shut up and see
 cause I've seen we still see when we don't.
All of that to say
In case my daughter is smart and could dredge up
some cash from some paintings
 some show flyers and a handwritten memoir of a woman???
Displaced, out of time?
I'm sorry I did my research dad
If I was in California
 I would vape my worry away right now
I'm in the heat, in the hell, in the home of numbering years
 a woman cramped in a box
When I need a studio
 more than I've needed anything
To paint out my lungs

Jun 29, 2012


I tried to come back. I was hurt that someone commented that I should never have had children. I believe him on a bad day, I know he's crazy when I look into my beautiful children's eyes and when they smile, oblivious to nothing but happiness in the moment, something I'm working on. I cleaned up my yard. I bought ferns and pink jasmine and put them in planters around the porch. Put two chairs and a little table on the porch with a welcome mat I turn outward so I can imagine the world welcomes me as I step into it. I needlefelt and paint but also work hard to free up stretches of hours to do nothing, Aidyn's naptime. I chase happiness and feel it on a good day, far removed from it on a bad day. I feel like happiness is a choice but why does it feel like work to choose it? I still miss Zoe. She doesn't feel like she was ever here sometimes. I see her picture and it feels like I was born missing her, like her loss was always in my life. I knew since I was little something bad was coming later in life for me. My anxiety started at 11. I painted a picture of a strong crying flower cradling a wilted smaller flower with bloody roots, two years before it happened. Before I ever had children, I knew losing one was the worst thing that could happen. I want to believe the next thirty years will be much happier than the first. I have no instinct about my future now, so maybe the worst is over, maybe, maybe.

Feb 11, 2012

I need my blog/coming home....

I don't know if my readers will come back, but I'm coming back. I'm done with fb for the time being and I find I still need a space to connect with people. To vent or talk about the random goodness I've witnessed lately. To speak of the thoughts that run crazy through my mind like disobedient children and explain how only my attitude has changed but it has made a big difference.
 I've been through five months of severe (situational) depression regarding Jeff and all that entails. Ups, deep dark downs, betrayals, lies and an inability by either of us to let go. He tried, very hard in my opinion. We had agreed to not see anyone else. He spent most nights at my house, but when he went home he had set up a dating account and was having emotional and sexual innuendo laced relationships with a few women via the Internet. He even met up with one of them. I found out about two weeks after he ended it all on his own. It had been going on since November.  I'll never know the entire truth. I tried to let him go. I didn't let him see my face for a week. I tried as hard as I could to use horrible words to push him out of my life and heart. It didn't work, we are having a very hard time letting go. He is trying to earn my trust again. I am trying to keep my heart away from our interactions (and failing) and to keep my temper in check. I radiate anger when I am angry. The only language I can speak is sarcasm and I will beat you over the head with words and insinuations until you can't take it. No matter what happens to me in life, that part of my reaction to strong emotions has to go. It hurts me just as bad as the offender and gets me nowhere. I hate to say I'm being more passive when I'm angry or the feelings of betrayal surface, it's just that I am not letting rage engulf me or steal any joy I may have been feeling. I have learned on some small yet palpable level that I can adjust my own attitude. Before I started working on it, I became a skinny, shriveled, detached, depressed mess. My mom had a talk with me on two occasions, begging me to admit if I was on drugs. It was so sad to me to think that shattering of a relationship could have the same effect on my body as months of heavy drug use.
 I may be fitting in my nine-year-old's clothes and having to keep moving to keep sane BUT I have adjusted my attitude and started to let Jeff's actions belong to him and I'm trying to let them go. I'm taking Jeff and I on a day by day basis and not pursuing him, rather letting him pursue me if we really just can't/won't let each other go. I've cleaned and organized the house and filled it with food. I get up and make myself eat and put on some make-up everyday. I went to an estate sale that my friend was working and got some jeans my size so I don't have to look frumpy or wear my daughter's clothes until I do gain enough weight to fit into my old stuff. I cook almost every night again. I let Ivy have slumber parties with me and we watch movies and eat in my bed. All of this made possible by the refusal to get sicker and adjusting my outlook and letting emotions either be what they are and accepting them or letting certain ones go.
  We'll see where things go from here. It will be chronicled here. I miss my outlet and I miss my friends. La La Land is back. Hope to hear from you guys....

Nov 28, 2011


 If, I put my kids to bed each night happy and healthy and maybe put brush to canvas as much as I can, is it enough to make my life worth something? Can a life consist of raising babies and art? I'm tempted to say it is, but as ungrateful as I am going to sound, something feels missing. Something is just off and I'm helpless to find the balance.

Oct 17, 2011

4 years...

 My Zoe-Beth,
  I can't believe it's been four years since I've held you in my arms, or seen your sweet face. So much has happened, and so many things have changed. What never changes is how much I miss you or love you. I will always feel a little guilty that I'm here, typing this, and you're gone, you died.
 Life was getting pretty rough there for a while, but it's getting slowly easier. My heart was broken again and I had almost forgot how bad it hurt. Two broken hearts in my life, how do people live with five, six, twelve?
I'm learning to live for right now and to let go of control. Somehow, deciding to live with questions and doubts and just focus on your brother and sister is helping.
 I'm sorry I haven't been to your grave. I hate it there and now that Moah is there too, it's so depressing. I know you are not there.
 I'm sorry you'll never play with your brother or sister. I'm sorry you never got to feel the sun on your face or see a rainbow. I'm sorry you'll never open a birthday present or wait for Santa to come. I'm sorry for a lifetime, of things you'll never do.