quixotic cards for february birthdays

kiernan's bday

do i put money inside or do i just hope i someday get famous & the recipient can sell it on ebay?

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too soon

we met too soon
we were children
both of us
full of mistakes to make
& we made them with
each other
…but not together
we met too soon
it’s a simple
but profound fact
i wasn’t ready
for that kind of
intensity
i’ve made my apologies
i’ve done my penance
for wrongs i commited
but it’s not my fault
we met too soon.

youth is wasted on the young. if only i knew then what i know now. we all know how it goes. they say those things because it is true. you learn life’s lessons.
and then you live with it.
some people are lucky and get a chance to put into action what they learn.

i don’t know if i will be that lucky.

but i did learn. and i should be thankful for that.
i feel a certain amount of peace in knowing that he was it. it was always him. i don’t know how to explain it. such a long story. but it was always him. always.
i feel peaceful with that realization. and knowing that i am a better person today for having known him & for having learned from our time together.
knowing that if i met him again, i wouldn’t fuck it up.

something completely different

so i can’t just go from point A:  inspiration to point B: execution of idea.
for me it’s more like “oh! i have an idea!”
but first i have to water & feed the livestock
do dishes
start laundry
make breakfast
wait, i have time for a shower
now i have to clean up after breakfast
now! now i can sit down & draw out my idea….
(which of course is when someone needs help with something)

sometimes this destroys my creative flow…other times it creates an atmosphere of percolation where i mull over the idea in my head as i
do dishes
laundry
cook
take a shower
until the point where i know exactly how i want to execute my idea.

so i have been bothered by this for some time. people who tell me it is inconsistent for me to believe in climate change while questioning vaccines and genetically modified foods. it occurred to me this morning that there is more than one kind of science. this is just an observance…not a well-researched thesis. however, as i see it, there is natural science (how a rainbow happens, what causes a hurricane, why climate change is real)…and then there is what i want to call “man-made” science (plastic, cloning, strip mining & pipelines). i mean the human pursuit of science often falls on the wrong side of “just because you can do it does not mean you should do it.” and i think this is probably caused by man thinking his science is superior to that of nature. he takes something natural & perverts it to meet his needs.

it’s a thought in progress. bear with me.

so i have had four pregnancies. the first two ended with doctors convincing me i was unable to give birth & cutting the baby out of me.
with my third pregnancy, knowing my body wants to go to at least 42 weeks and hearing doctors say they would not allow me to go past 41 without interventions…i quit doctors. i had two home births. and the babies came out when they were ready. after 42 weeks. healthy, normal, and with the bodies of babies born at the right time.
so this started my journey from what convention & mainstream would call “rational” to what i am today–someone who prefers to trust my instincts and question man-made science.

i believe in science. nature is science. fucking around with science is humans trying to beat nature. but we have created this culture where you are not allowed to question anything remotely “science” or you are ridiculed as a crackpot.
fuck that.
question everything.

look where not questioning what we are told by “scientists” has gotten us.
look at the general health & state of mind of the united states.
look at the state of our climate & our environment.

okay.
rant done.

ps. i am not going to argue this with anyone. i believe in my instincts & my intuition, and i am not ignorant (though admittedly not an expert) on these topics. if you don’t agree with me, that’s all you.
take care.

silly love song

silly love song

i’ve realized
you are the only person
i want to be
with
not someone like you
(as unlikely as that is)
not someone who treats me
like you treated me
but you
exactly you
only you
when i think of dating
of loving
anyone else
i feel repulsed
when i imagine
dancing in my kitchen
with you
waking every morning
to you
my whole body tingles
& i swear
i must glow
with sweet longing.

writing this was easy…sharing it–not so much. so i started wondering as i tend to do. why is it easier for me to share my dark & disturbing parts?
my sad & barely surviving parts?
my anxious & depressed parts?
my struggles & shortcomings?
my feelings of worthlessness & isolation?
my oh so crazy bits?
but sharing something i wrote about love…my feelings of love…for another person…i feel like i have gone too far.
i feel like i have crossed some sort of line.
this shouldn’t be allowed!
and, to boot, it is unrequited love i am celebrating.
yuck. so gross.
why do i react to love as if it is something unspeakable? unthinkable? illogical? is this cultural/generational or is it reflective of my damage? or…is my damage also reflective of my culture/generation?

there are entire movies. entire tv series. books, poetry, and songs. all of these. dedicated to love. all kinds of love.
so why do i feel so stupid admitting that i love someone?

so in art journal psychotherapy today we have learned that i am more comfortable with & even celebratory of my darkness & my damage and will happily shove it right in your face….
but when it comes time to share my thoughts of love & devotion & romantic longing…for a man of all things…to admit that i have these feelings…then i ready myself to fall on my sword.
i find being morose a more natural & acceptable state than being dreamy.
yet i call myself quixotic and think of myself as whimsical? a puzzle inside an enigma wrapped in a conundrum.
do you see the exhausting challenge of being me? of living in my head?
but!
in the interest of balance
here it is
a little of my yang for all of the yin
a silly love song.

domestication

domestication

i want
to cook for you
a bowl of beef stew
special ingredient…love
i want
to make you coffee
every morning
just the way you like it
i want
to pour you a glass of whiskey
& listen to you rant
i want
to grow tomatoes in my garden
slice & salt them
for you
i want
to draw your portrait
over & over
until i know your features
better than i know
my own.

as a mostly wild & untamed thing, it surprises me when i feel this way towards another person.
when i was nineteen & in my very first relationship, that boyfriend curled up on the floor one evening and asked me, “would you take care of me if i had polio?”
having no sense of normal polite responses i could have made, i blurted out an honest one, “no!”
is it irony or not that he ended up dumping me after i developed a cyst that required his help in the daily draining of? ha! my first experience with being let down easy.

as a child, i watched my largely unnurturing mother give all of her attention to her giant toddler of a husband. i came to believe that it was weakness to care for & to care about a man. sure, i fell in love all the time…but to care about them? to care for them? to need them?
never!
as you can guess, i was very popular with the boys. i once made a goth industrial dude cry when i told him i didn’t need him.
he was not the first or the last man i made cry.

love ’em & leave ’em crying.
that’s me.

except.
except for the one.
i did break up with him twice, but in the end–he destroyed me.
but this is what i am wondering.
is it the end?
i know and–if you read my blog regularly & for more than a few weeks–you know too that this seems to be a cycle for me.
i realize i still love him & am devoted to that.
then i get pissed off at myself
& at him
and vow to forget him & to find someone else.
i try that for awhile
find i can’t stomach it
and realize again how much i love him.

if you have been reading my blog the past couple of weeks…you might notice i am once again winding up to devotion.
domestication.
love & caring.
for just one man.
i have my kids. i have my art. i have my homestead. he is the only addition i would make to that. he is the only one i want.
whether that is stupid, silly, sentimental, & saccharine nonsense or not….i don’t care. it’s how i feel. i have spent so much of my life going over my psyche with a fine toothed comb. i cannot deny this. whether i ever see him again or not, he is the one & the only one i want.

new moon manifestation

new moon manifestation

community
i crave
long for
authentic
community
real friends
real people
looking to build
something
amazing
grow something
incredible
together
create a healthy
sustainable
supportive
loving caring
community.

years ago i lived in a cooperative house. i loved it & hated it. it was set up in downtown madison and housed 30 people. it called itself “family friendly.” it was an incredible experience that made me realize how much i crave a community. however, the house itself attracted mostly college students & single white men. neither having much of a “family friendly” slant.
oh. i have stories.
so many stories…but that house was not for me.
but like i tend to do in life, i took what i liked and put the rest of it in a catapult.

ever since, i have been trying to figure out how to create a cooperative community. growers. artists. nature-lovers. children. animals. creators. builders.
the whole world.
i want the whole world in my backyard…er…i mean our backyard.

it could happen.
i just have to keep up with my new moon manifestations.