Life is a Series of Losses

I sold my pink Daisy Rock - Rock Candy Special electric guitar today.  Feeling sad as I bid goodbye to yet another dream.  I’ve always thought I should know how to play guitar.  When I finally started taking lessons, I was over the moon happy.  It lasted six months before a hand injury ended all hopes of holding a pick for more than 5 minutes.  Or a needle.  What they don’t tell you about the stages of grief is that they don’t come in order and can sometimes come all at once.  Today before it was picked up, I still clung to the dream that I could someday learn to play.  That my injury could heal.  That I could have some tiny piece of my dream still.  Denial to the end. 

I always thought I should go to college, but financial calamity always follows my enrollment.  That’s a dream that raises it’s ugly head once in a while.  The last time I enrolled and was ready to sign up for classes, I had to replace a sewer drain.  A $5,000 sewer drain. Thanks to an illegal sewer setup 30 years before I bought my house.  That was the final death knell to my dream of college.  It’s just too expensive to even consider. 

Life is a series of losses.  I’ve always believed that.  But there are gains.  Knowing who you really are leads to accepting that some parts of you may never be fully expressed in this lifetime.  I’m still a rocker in my heart.  I still makeup songs and rock out in the shower.  I will never accompany myself on an electric guitar, but that’s probably a good thing.  Water and electricity don’t really mesh well.

Goodbye Rock Candy Special - you made my heart sing!  I hope the guy who bought you wears out your strings and loves you as much or more than I did.  

2018: You Sucked

2018 sucked so hard, I feel lucky to have survived it.  Still 8 more days so maybe I should keep that on the qt.  Since no one reads this blog anymore, thought I'd write some random thoughts and send them out in the infinite cosmos of the internet.  Hi everyone!  and no one.

2018 was a year of losses in every area.  Mental, physical, emotional and financial and other intangible areas.  I lost my best friend to stupidity - hers, not mine although some would say I share the blame for loving her unconditionally.  Take some advice from me.  If you are going to love someone unconditionally, make sure they love you the same.  When you discover they don't, you might as well rip your heart out and throw it away.  It won't work the same after.

I stopped writing for a long time and haven't really done much creative except for acrylic painting classes my stepfather has been teaching.  Next time I'll post some photos.  I'm not good, but he's a great teacher.  No worries that I'll exceed him.  My bosses got me watercolor classes for next year so another creative adventure awaits.

I've discovered a few allies and learned a great deal about myself in 2018.  Perhaps good does come from bad, but we only discover it after time passes. 

I will end 2018 much the same way I've ended every other year.  I'll bake a cake for the new year, celebrate the neighbor's fireworks by whooping and hollering and covering my tree with silly string.  However, instead of staying up all night watching movies, I'll paint or write.  I'd like to end the year on a creative high.  God knows I need one.

I'll also say a prayer that 2019 be kinder and gentler.  Or at least not so difficult to navigate. 

My goals for 2019 are simple.  Live differently, keep only what I need, celebrate the small moments, hug my cats as much as they will let me, write, paint and live simply.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and as always, Happy Giraffes!

Winter Fantasy - Dream

This morning, February 4, 2014, I woke up in the middle of a dream.  I think it might be the beginning of a new story but I wanted to share the dream.  It starred a version of Oh Sehun that does not really exist in this world but I am including some photos of him just so you can kind of get an idea of the visual I saw in my dream.  Oh Sehun is in the Korean pop group, EXO.  He's a lead dancer and visual.

I'm 16 or 17.  I've recently gone through puberty and am struggling with the changes to my body.  I've suddenly developed breasts and my face and figure have become more beautiful and socially desirable.  I'm uncomfortable with the changes but even more so with the way everyone around me treats me now.  I look in the mirror and don't recognize myself.  In an effort to hide the changes, I wear concealing clothing and put my hair up in a ponytail.

I have gone to the store and bought some groceries for my mom.  There are several gallons of milk sitting in the floorboard on the passenger side and one of the milk containers has broken, spilling milk all over the floorboards and carpet and even some of the seat front.  I'm angry and pissed off about the milk but when I come home and see my lecherous old neighbor sitting on the porch talking with my mother, it really pisses me off.  I park the car in the garage, unload the groceries and then set to work cleaning up the mess.  If the milk dries, it will leave a horrible smell in my car.

I'm in a foul mood and as I'm cleaning, friends of my brother's keep coming in to interrupt me.  Some to tease and some to flirt.  I hate them all and I hate their attention.  I get so mad I end up locking the door to the house from inside the garage just to be left alone.

I'm working hard cleaning up the mess and it's a hot summer day.  Stuck in the garage I am soon sweating.  I take off my sweatshirt and jeans and continue to clean wearing only a light fitted t-shirt and shorts.  After a short time I am sweating again from the effort to clean the car.  I offhandedly mutter a wish for a cool winter breeze to cool me down.

Finally I manage to get the car cleaned out so that it won't smell.  I need to throw away the trash bag containing the paper towels I used to clean up the mess.  I unlock the door leading into the house and discover it has been locked from inside the house.  This does not improve my mood.

I take a big breath and blow it out angrily and am shocked to see my breath hang in the air.  I shiver and realize it has gotten much cooler.  I grab the remote garage door opener and stand next to the garage door as I raise it intending to dash out to the trash can, toss the bag in, and then dash back to the garage without being seen.

As the door raises, I am startled to see a thin wall of ice that stretches completely across the opening of the garage.  Embedded in the ice are giant delicate and intricate snowflakes.  Through the ice I can see that the world has completely transformed into a winter wonderland.  Icicles hang from every surface but they are curly and zigzagged.  Some look like the ice stopped at various points along the icicle to form clear balls of ice of various sizes.  The houses across the street are nearly indistinguishable and the trees, covered in snow, make the world look like it has been taken over by a fantastical winter landscape.  The moon, preternaturally large in the sky, gives the world a slightly alien feel.

I raise my hand and place it on the surface of the ice wall and the ice, instead of melting, crinkles away from my warm touch as if alive.  I am fascinated by the process and fail at first to realize I am not alone.  I look up and into the eyes of the most beautiful boy.  Pale skin, blonde almost colorless hair, and eyes the color of glass cleaner; transparent, icy, and inquisitive.

He smiles and I giggle, embarrassed at having been caught unawares.  He laughs too and the deep baritone surprises me for someone so young.  He touches the ice wall and the edges crinkle away creating an archway large enough for me to pass through.  I can see more of him now.  He's tall with a slight build but I sense strength in his figure.  He's wearing a long form-fitting silver fur coat with a scarf the color of a blue disposable cup around his neck, contrast to the color of his eyes.

He introduces himself, "I'm Paeter."  I introduce myself.  He holds out his hand.  "I've been waiting for you."  I hesitate for only a second before taking his hand.  I take one step and I'm standing on the precipice.  He smiles and I take another step until I stand beside him in the wintry landscape.  We take a step together away from the ice wall and I shiver, suddenly keenly aware of the cold.

I tell him I need to run in and get a coat and turn around only to find the archway now yards away, only the light shining through evidence that my house exists.  I turn to look at Paeter to ask how this has happened when we took only a few steps.  He is still smiling but now he holds a long elegant red fox fur coat.  I turn one last time to look back to my house and the light from the archway is almost completely extinguished now; houses unrecognizable. 

I feel as Paeter wraps the coat around my shoulders and suddenly, I am warm from head to toe.  I discover that I am somehow already wearing thick warm boots.  My t-shirt and shorts are now a beautiful long sleeved silk gown.  It is blue but so pale as to be almost white.  The necklace I wear looks as if it is made of snowflakes and diamonds.

 

Paeter's arms surround me in a gentle embrace.  His cool breath sends shivers down my spine as he whispers in my ear, "Come or we will be late."  Paeter takes a step away from me and I turn to look into his Windex™ blue eyes.  I smile, take a step and reach out to take his hand.  Together we walk deeper into the forest.  I have no idea where I am, where I am going, or why I've chosen to leave everything I know behind.  I only know that he is here and he has been waiting for me.

--Belinda, 2/4/2014

Flaming Balloons

I had this dream last night. I was standing safely behind a chain link fence with other people  - don’t know who- and on the other side of the fence on a big hill were standing all these people - different ages, etc.  And in the distance I could see them blowing up these giant balloons - 6’ across maybe - and covering them with a flammable substance.  They were setting the balloons on fire and sending them skittering down the hill and all those people would run to get out of the way and laugh at their close calls and cheer each other on.  And every once in a while, one of the giant balloons would explode and someone would disappear in a fiery blaze and everyone would cheer and clap really loudly!  To my left one of the balloons jumped the fence and several of the guys jumped the fence to chance it and it exploded so close I could feel the intense heat and my heart jumped into my throat.  On the right a guy was skateboarding down the hill and he just disappeared in a blaze.  

When I woke up, I realized that this was my life. Always on the sidelines, always safe behind the fence.  And I realized in the dream I just wanted one of those flaming balloons to come my way. 

Crying and Writing

So I'm writing this book and all through the book I've been dreading writing the scene where the hero sacrifices himself to save the heroine.  

So today I started writing the scene where the hero reveals that he will have to die so she can live and they have 3 days to be together.  I don't know why but I never really gave this scene much thought but today I wrote the first paragraph where the hero is confessing all and I just started bawling.  I mean soupy wet drippy nose running can't control the chest heaving sobs, crying.  

I thought the worst part would be killing him but it's not.  It's knowing that he's going to die and that each moment you spend together is one less moment you will have.  I have never had a relationship in my real life like the one I have written in this book and I think it finally hit me today how much I love these characters and their relationship.  And now as they say goodbye, I realize I am going to have to say goodbye to one of them too.  It's making me so sad and miserable.  

However, having said that, I think it's a really great scene.  Probably one of the best I've written yet.  

I always wondered when I see a love story in a movie or read about one in a book if it's based in real life and I think I've come to the conclusion that we write the relationship we dream of, even knowing that the likelihood of finding it is slim, nil or none.  We humans are flawed and even though as writers we give our characters flaws too, we want them to have the relationships we dream of.  I wonder if that sets us up to expect more in our relationships and also how we become disillusioned by them.  3:13 am and these are my thoughts as my tears slowly subside.   

Strange Dreams

I'm on an antibiotic right now for a kidney infection.  This is the 4th antibiotic I have taken for it - hope it works!  The antibiotic I am on right now states on the insert that it can cause problems with sleeping and I have to agree.  Lately when I sleep I feel like I am awake and dreaming.  I had a very "Alice in Wonderland" type dream last night but I remember only tiny bits and pieces.  

I woke with the lines of a poem running through my mind but now I can only remember the phrase: 10,000 kisses upon his lips.  Apparently I was in love with a man who aged a little bit every time I kissed him and the 10,000th kiss would be his last.  I calculated if I only kissed him once a day, that would still be 27 years together but when you are in love, all you want is to be able to kiss the one you love.  It felt kind of sad and melancholy.  I wish I could remember the rest of the poem. 

In another dream, I visited a very nice lady who lived in a glass dome.  You stepped off the edge of the kitchen into a large pool - the window panes of the dome were triangles and at night they would be covered with panels for privacy.  I remember thinking it might be a cool way to live until I realized there was no way to open the windows.  I also noticed upon waking that there were no plants there either - I wondered how she got oxygen to breathe.  There were other strange creatures and strange goings-on but they are very shadowy and fragmented.  I kept buying and selling houses and I would move out of a beautiful mansion into a wreck and then have to make a deal to get my first house back.  There was a strange stack of books and I was quite small compared to them.  At the top was a creature that would answer questions for a small fee.  Can't remember what question I asked him but it seemed very vital in the dream.  

I have 10 more days on the antibiotic.  I'm starting to miss sleeping.  Last night I went to bed at 2 am and was still awake at 7 a.m.  I think I managed to escape to a dream sometime after 9 a.m. and then woke up just after 11 am.  I tried to go back to sleep but no such luck!

Painting and writing today.  Also working on creating some headings and images for other sites I maintain.  I need to get some cleaning done but this is the first day in a long time I have had any energy so have been playing instead of cleaning.  HG!  Belinda

Painted Black

Words that take me and erase me and I'm painted black . .. Falling Slowly featured on the soundtrack for Once

Today I'm working on a journal cover for a journal giveaway I'm doing on another blog (deathbytop.tumbler.com).  I'm using a photo printed on photo paper and I needed to create a background for it.  The look I'm trying to recreate in paint is that of an old ancient leather.  It's looking pretty pretty authentic.  Still have to add a couple of layers of sealer but I put the paint on pretty heavy so I would have lots of colors to pull out to complement the black and the colors in the photo I'm using. Will take a while to dry ho hum.  Can't wait to see how it turns out!  The journal will feature watercolor paper - I love these journals.  They are pretty easy to make and I love being creative with paint on the Masa paper.  I use mine for drawing, experimenting with paint combinations, writing, and just doodling.  They also look pretty classy lying on a table or bookcase.

Writing it Down

I am writing my dreams down every day but the stories they tell are coming so fast and furious I sometimes wonder whether I'll be able to get them all written down.  Every dream seems to be a full-length story from beginning to middle to end and whether a short story or a book, I don't know; but I do know that the stories my dreams tell are always curious and interesting to me.  They always take me in directions I never imagined.  I always learn new things about myself and how I feel about the world.  

A lot of my dreams are about relationships and I'm learning to understand the motives of the characters.  The questions I ask them are changing as well - are they seeking love?, are they seeking to be loved?, are they seeking to love someone else because they don't love themselves?, are they seeking to make whole some part of themselves through love, are they trying to fix something that happened in their life through love?, do they see love as a gift or as a burden?  For what reasons will they walk away from love?  To protect their heart, to protect some belief, to protect their way of life?

So many questions.  I'm curious to see what answers I find in my stories.  Sweet dreams!

Cafe Part 6: A Story in Paragraphs

Cafe Part 5: A Story in Paragraphs