A friend of mine has a studio with some other artists called Art Brutale at 2923 Main Street, near Sisters Hospital. They had an Open mic last night Thursday. I got a chance to meet some really cool peeps! New musicians, new poets and new artists. It felt good to read again. I read three poems that were never read aloud. The other thing that was really cool was the relaxed atmosphere and the communication between the reader and the audience, got some feedback on a new work in progress. It felt good.
For all those e-peeps that like to try something new, you might want to give the small but family style gallery a try. There is a number of different events that they have from art on the walls, t-shirts for sale for the gallery and a local rapper, poet, artist: MC Vendetta. Very cool. Music. All around arts.

Happy Valentine's Day or Happy Black Monday a little late. It is a funny thing I only celebrate the Hallmark holiday when I am single and unattached. When I have been in a relationship or dating, my boyfriends at the time, didn't think it was important to celebrate Valentine's Day.
I celebrate it with a day of doing all the things I never have the time I'd like to spend doing. Usually uneventful, but with a friend or doing a favorite activity. Last year I learned how to knit with my best friend, Andi. This year I was by myself on the official holiday doing my artwork. A little out of practice, but struggling to work on a new series that has been incubating in my mind for 5 years... I think I am struggling to birth the series in a painting series. I have half of the sketching done, a third of the canvas's prep ed and only one canvas almost finished.
This year I loved myself fulfilling my passion with my art.
I went to see Wedding Date with my best friend the evening before and Shall We Dance this past Friday with my mom. Between the two movies I think I have a renewed spirit about LOVE.
I have discovered I have the capability to fall in love easily, it is picking up the pieces afterword - that is the real trick.
I fell into a deep depression after taking the risk and telling my new love interest, here is the rub, he never said he didn't love me in return, he also never said he did love me in return. Only that he was honored that I could share my inner most feelings to him. He told me that I was courageous because I was a risk taker and told him that I felt I was falling in love with him, but he never believed that someone as cool as me could love him. I was shocked, hurt, happy, delirious. See it wasn't the answer I was expecting or even not expecting...it was a new place for me. We talked for several months and then he did a Houdini. Beware of falling in love with Scorpio's they sting a bit! After several months of Silence - I decided I needed closure for my own sanity and that is when the healing roller coaster ride began. The Viper would have been a welcomed ride after this nerve racking test of self exploration to return from the bliss of love. I returned to myself alone and sad at the non results from my risk. I went through the usual assortment of mixed emotions: What did I do wrong?, Could I have done anything differently? Maybe I wasn't in love with him after all?, He doesn't love me and I don't know why?, It was all a dream, an illusion, a fantasy. Then reality set in, I still think about him often and 6 months later I am ready to let both my friend and my romantic interest in him go. The hardest part is the grief of losing a kindred spirit, he was in my life for 10 years and now he is gone. True - maybe not forever. Anyone knows as Scorpio's go 3 days, 6 weeks, 9 months or 12 years later they reappear as if nothing has happened since the last time they saw you.
I deserve a love that time will stand still for. A love that all of nature will be our witness. There will be no doubt we love each other. Until then I am open to new experiences, but I think I am more guarded about letting just any suitors in.
What do we really know about another person? Until we meet their family and friends and verify everything they have told us, we never really know that person. We can never really know everything about another person and it shouldn't really matter as long as there is a healthy skepticism to screen people who might be dangerous to our well-being. Once we have past the skepticism there is only the truth. We just are and if we can accept that about each other then anything is possible.

April 25th (Sunday) between 1 and 8 pm at the Unitarian Church on Elmwood Avenue will be a poetry event where I will be reading. Celia White and Joe Todaro are in charge of this poetry event in our community and this will be the 4th Annual Urban Epiphany. There are several poets reading per hour and the event is usually video taped for any of the poets who are reading to have a copy of your performance. I will give directions to the spot with address a little later when I have more information.

I can't believe it has been a month since last I wrote anything. I have been working on my new job and all its rigorous requirements. Attempting to finish my incompete on time, but do to being sick I have spent most of the month on and off the couch with boxes of Kleenex, cough syrup, cough drops and just trying to feel better.
My dad is in the hospital for the last 11 days and most of those evenings were hanging out with dad. My Uncle Mike died. We couldn't go to the funeral due to dad being sick and I had work. I think we might go visit in the spring. The doctors say my dad has 6 to 12 months to live if he stay at his current health status. I have written before about all that. I don't think I am ready for his death. Then again we never are. The Pollyanna in me, says it is possible for him to get better and maybe live another ten years. He is only 57, he is so young to be SO sick.
My job has it's ups and downs and I am learning to fight the good fight. I have been figuring out what is really important to me.
I have been working on my artwork again. That feels really good, but I am taking it slowly. Trying to find little bits of happiness everyday. I started writ ting poetry again. That feels good too. [size=xxl]I have been invited to read at the Urban Epiphany on the Th of April at the Unitarian Church on Elmwood ave. More details as the date gets closer. I will be reading between the 5-PM hour. [/size]
I think the moon is void of course this day and that is why I have been getting absolutely nothing done today. Very frustrating.
I am rediscovering my social life and slowing down my work life into a reasonable pace right along with some of my career goals.

My father had two back to back surgeries for his renal dialysis procedures to fix some complications with his treatment. He has been in the hospital for 3 days and came home yesterday. I love my family, but sometimes they are very inconsiderate.
I had plans with my mom to help fit my best friend for the wedding she is the maid of honor in in a few weeks. We had this planed and my father who had just come home knew about it too! No problems.
I have a whole bunch of work to get caught up on right after I finished this big project for this Thursday. I am making sure I haven't forgotten anything. Grades. Correcting papers. Lesson plans. Demonstrations for class to explain each step with them for the harder projects... etc...
It is an hour before my best friend is to come over. She calls to double check the time and that my dad is OK with visitors. Yes, everything is a go. I'll see her at PM. I keep working figuring, who cares if my best friend sees me unshowered and in my sweats. I had work to do. So instead of taking a shower I worked and helped my dad. Mom had to go to Tops and Wegman's an errand for dad and prescriptions to be filled, as he needed pain medications immediately! So mom went to make sure that dad would get his meds on time and stay as comfortable as can be expected after surgery.
The phone rings, it is my downstairs neighbor to tell us "We are having company. My uncle and his girlfriend are coming over now." I'm like OK. So I started straightening up the living room and loOKing for the stuff to make coffee. It is true I do not drink lots of coffee and it is my parents house therefore I wasn't sure where everything was and how any scoops to make, etc...
It's four o'clock and there is a knock at the door, it's my best friend. Accidentally she was told by my Uncle to park in my drive which is currently rented out to my other neighbor. I apologized and told her to park in my mom's spot and mom will park in front of the house. So she did and came back upstairs. We all chatted a moment and I asked her if she wanted tea or water or something else we might have. She wanted water and we went into the kitchen. Partly to let my dad relax and so that I could continue the coffee quest.
Then my Uncle and his girlfriend came up without taking off their shoes, as my parents just got new carpeting laid. They commented on it, but did not take their shoes off - how rude! I just made a sign, maybe that will help! I didn't say anything because dad was talking. I went back to making coffee and entertaining my best friend who I don't see that often. We were talking. My Uncle's girlfriend came in to make the coffee and was totally rude and condescending to my friend. I think was mostly in shock and then without any notice... there is another knock at the door, it's my cousin and a friend. No warning what so ever that they were coming. I'm like ok. NOW what. Feeling highly frustrated and irritated I went back to what I was doing finding coffee and making it for the guests, which left me out of the running and my throat is sore. Anyway, I spend time with my friend in another room waiting for my mom to get back to try the dress on and see if there are any needed alterations.
I was showing her the work that I was doing with my students and the big project, we were slightly disgusted with the way the conversation was headed and were trying to not pay attention. My Uncle's girlfriend is nice, but I think she is starting to show her true colors. Always asking really personal questions, passing judgement and always giving her opinion - as if anyone really cared.
When mom came home I helped her carry in the groceries and unpack them, we (my best friend, mom and I ) chatted in the kitchen for a bit and then went to try the dress on and work on what she came to do. We did walking through their conversation to get to the bathroom where there is a large mirror and my mom's bedroom to work on the alterations. They of course had to make comments. I am like this is unbelievable! I was getting passed my patience. We visited with the doors closed because my friend was taking her cloths on and off to try and retry the dress on to make sure everything fit just right! Very important for the occasion! They left while we were in mom's room. Thank fully.
Then my dad asked me why I didn't say hi to my cousin. I'm like he doesn't know how to walk up to me and introduce me to his friend so that I could also introduce him to my friend. Why do I always have to play hostess with the mostess? They came unannounced, with more people than planned. They couldn't take off their shoes when they noticed that everyone else - like my company - had theirs off. They gave dad the third degree and did they realize this would take a toll on my dad - NO!
So I went back to my company and the fitting and we visited for a little while. I invited my best friend for dinner, but she had dinner waiting at home. WE thought maybe go to the show next week, just to relax and hang out.
Dad asked me why she didn't stay I told him. He was really tired and in lots of pain. He just didn't want anyone else to see it. He let his guard down when everyone left and told mom and I how he was doing. We ate dinner. Watched TV. I helped him with his meds.
Later we had another guest, a friend of my dad's who he really wanted to see. He visited for a short while then left. We had snacks so that dad could take his pain pills. Watched more TV and tried to make dad comfortable. Which was hard to do, since he is in pain either way. We were there, just in case he needed anything.
I just can't believe my family...

It never fails to take me an hour when I should only have taken five minutes when going on line. Then while I was here I thought, I should post. I have nothing to say. I should go to bed.
The problem is I am a night owl. I love being productive at night. I can function in the day. I prefer being awake at night so I have to force myself to go to sleep. I am a work-a-holic. Teaching hasn't changed my work ethic much. I am in the middle of correcting sketchbooks, as I teach art and I needed a sound break. TV didn't really grab me this evening. Work didn't either. I think I work just to work through my other thoughts, you know the ones that hide on you and then come back to bite you in the butt when you are not looking.
I just had a phone call from a good friend and I know she'd been on my mind for awhile I hadn't realized that it had been 7 months, I should just mail her surprise present! Spontaneous shopping - good therapy bad for my checkbook and my pay my bills on time ethic! Anyways just catching up made me feel human again. Like there is more to life than work... I am a Virgo and we have distinct needs to get the job done and to be the best we can be. Unfortunately this means we are moody, unhappy and just trying to keep up with ourselves. I'm not very proud of this side of my personality.
Every day I have a good day must be because I have remembered to say my morning prayers! Laugh you might, but when I forget to say my morning prayers I pay the consequences...even if it is just one thing - it'll be big! I am not a morning person but can survive getting up early and manage to have some semblance of my usual self after several hours of being awake, kick in the what do I need to get done mode and we are good to go.
Not a very healthy way to function for several months on end with lots of stress. I am just having time to think about the experiences I had in July 2004. I am a little back logged when pondering what lessons I have learned in life, just to keep a pulse on where I am going... Not that Picasso is one of my favorite artist, but he was quoted for saying it is not that children aren't artist, it is the struggle to be an artist after we have grown up... or something to that effect.
I am remembering weird thoughts like, gee I'd like to paint soon! My laundry is still piling up in the basement. Sigh. I am just trying to do something artistic everyday! That will bring about sanity. The strange thought occured to me, will i know when i am sane again? See once you have pushed yourself beyond your envelope, will you recognize what normal - for you - is? See stressed has been part of my daily existence for so long I am unsure as to when I am not stressed. Usually I can tell when I am around other, but I don't much care to be around people right now. Feeling more like checking in with myself and when I had time to be alone I was working. Now that I have time to be alone, and am, I am biting into my sleep time. Which in the long run is a bad idea... and yet just checking in, writing a thought, a moment, part of my day. Makes me feel sane.
There is this long mental check list and as I go through more and more things on the list I begin to feel freer and freer. True, it is all an illusion, but the feeling is there! And Feeling is believing these days.
Dad is going in for a minor procedure tomorrow and I have chosen to go to work. I want all to go well and I will visit him in the hospital, but I need to get my life on some kind of track or rhythm...
Only an half an hour longer than I expected to be... Honest - I'm going to bed!

This morning I took a TV break and watched an Charmed and ER for my daytime drama.
Death a pervasive theme in both shows. I had a good friend on my mom's pass in September. (Happy birthday!) Then another unexpected fast and close friend in October. Which is bad because that is the anniversary of my grandmothers death. Didn't really have time to grieve, but then I realized I have another issue on my plate, i try not to think about.
My father has a terminal disease that could take his life at any moment and he could also live 20 or 30 more years. He could have died a year and half ago. I won't ever be ready for it! My dad and I are very alike. I'm the miniature female version of my dad. We argue a lot! We disagree a lot. I'll never really make him proud, and i don't really know why... but I know I love him! I guess he really loves me too! I watch him have good days and bad days. I watch him slowly losing his independence and know it has got to be killing him. He's rude, obnoxious and mean which hurts but it is all because life is just a gamble right now. There are no certainties, there are no guarantees only the moment you have right now. Some of them are fun, some of them are work, some of them are contentment. Some days I get so mad at him. Then I think how would you be dealing with it? Probably different. :) Or at least I'd like to think so.
There is no advise. There is nothing but life to live. Everyday brings it's highs and lows, it's sadness and happiness. I am grateful he is still here. There are little things that if I were younger it might make more sense to be upset over. There is a little girl still inside of me that wants my daddy to give me away at my wedding. I want him to see my first child being born. I want him there for his grandchildren. I want them to know him and his feisty ways. I want him to help me buy my first house. My first brand new car. My first really great job. I want him to be there to see my accomplishments and to give him the opportunity to be proud of me.
I watched my grandfather, my dad's dad, fight cancer most of my life until his death in the early 90's. It really hit my dad. I'm not his son, but it is something I have to deal with everyday. I check on him when he sleeps, just to see if he's breathing. If he catches me he yells at me thinking I'm a freak and let him alone.
There are constant doctor visits, emergency room visits, hospital visits, pains, aches, procedures, surgeries, blood work, tests, medications and it seems like he didn't get a great deal on his retirement plan this life. He talks about the Golden Years once and a while, I find out something new. A new story from his childhood, something about my grandparents or even my great grandparents, some job i never knew he worked, some place I never knew he had traveled too, sometimes he'll talk about his service to his country - not often, but sometimes. I learn about relative and people I have never met that were in his life and that made a difference for him.
It is hard to make up for lost time. It is hard to balance the anger. It is hard to learn how to be myself around him, because he doesn't have another 50 years for me to get it right. I guess it is just really hard. To be yourself, live each day to the fullest, forgive yourself for all the things you never got to do or had time for, and just enjoy the things you do have.
My mind ventures of to the tune Cat's in the Cradle...

Well after surviving everything my semester has dished at me, I have finally succumbed to another being on of small stature and living inside my body uninvited, a virus. I am officially sick, got it stamped and bonified certified from the authentic primary care physician. I am to do nothing. Sleep. Push my fluids. Take prescripted medicine as directed and do nothing. If anyone knows me, they no that doing nothing is not something I do well for any length of time. I did try to catch up on my lack of sleep for the last three months, but I am not sure it is physically possible to do in one weekend. I am attempting not to push and when I feel the signs I take a nap, lay down, surf the net, stare at the ceiling, wonder if my head will explode if it continues to pound. At some points I just submerge myself into my symptoms. Chills, low grade fever, diarreah, nausea, dry heaves, my eyes feel like sandpaper, my head feels like there is an axe chomping into my skull, my body feels like the Oreint Express hit me at full speed with every joint in my body aching loudly competing for the attention my brain can not fathom, and overall i just feel drunk clutsy, and in sever pain. I think that about covers it.
The only thing I do like is being able to sit and watch movies, although my parents have asserted themselves and I am staying with them at the moment therefore they make sure i eat. I am infamous for neglecting my dietary needs especially when i am sick. I guess i just want to be well enough to do a little bit more than nothing... sick, sick, sick and twisted sister! Although I couldn't handle listening to rock and roll / heavy metal at the moment... even toggling is beginning to hurt my head - oh - look at the time, soon and very soon it's medication time and that means food and magic faery dust and the headache goes away.
I think i am almost done pondering being sick, oh yeah, I got an invite to an artistic performance in my neighborhood walking distance from my house and I was so psyched at 4 am when I read it, then realized I am home sick and I am not going. That was the thing that bummed me out. I should post the event on the calendar though it will be late notice as it starts in like 2 hours.

When I was a child I was always dependable, solid, reliable and always available. I grew up to be one of the only one of my friends to always be there, same place, same time, same neighborhood, same me. I went to college to discovery myself, weird but true, I wanted to know what I was capable of. I began to crave independence like any child who has stayed too long in their parent's abode. I moved out, a story in and of itself for another time. Changes. I began to discovery exactly what I was capable of... I began to travel father from home. My friends moved out of the state. Farther and farther away I began to travel to see loved ones. Then one of my circle of friends had a different vision for me and I traveled through 13 states to get to North Dakota. Granted it was only a month, but it started to boil within me the need to get up and go. I tasted what is was like to find freedom on the wind. Nature called me to her. I craved home. Not the home that was familiar, not the home I knew, not the home I grew up in; but a different home. A home where I did not need a house, running water, heat, things to fill the spaces, but a home within myself to be at home where ever I was. I shed the materialistic part of me, learned to travel light, the hardest lesson was letting go of the idea I needed any of the materialistic things I owed, had, possessed, shared, toOK care of. All I needed was me. Some food, lots of water, a minimal amount of clothes and shelter from harsh elements. I discovered I love to camp.
I may never return to the badlands or the reservation that I had lived on for a month, which felt like an entire lifetime. Drums distantly calling me to dance, to feel, to live, to love, to hurt, to experience. It is not where I learned to pray, it is where I learned that every day was a prayer. Life is a blessing and a gift that becomes unseen once it is unwrapped. You can't hold it, you can't contain it, it is that which you can't see but you feel deep inside yourself.
I returned home. Homesick. At the time to a partner who missed me terribly and spent days making love. Happy. Free. at least it existed in that moment. Then change reared its head again and I buckled down to many jobs, moving, losing my relationship, finishing school, losing some friends, meeting new friends and going home. Thomas Wolf is right you can never go back home. My dad is sick and has been diagnosed with a terminal illness, that in and of itself was enough, but what is my role in all of this... I came home to help, share, spend time with my family. Is there anything else? Really?
Two years ago a friend asked me to take 3 weeks vacation with her and go camping. I did. More stories for another time. In the end I have realized that there is gypsy blood coursing through my veins, the same blood that lives in my dad. This blood that wants to go home, follow the wind, hear nature call and go. My dad for whatever reason left home to sail around the world. He did that younger than I am now, but times were different. My mom is the steady one. It is my dad that has the fire that boiled the blood and encouraged him to move wherever the currents took him.
For the first time in my life I have learned I can sleep just about anywhere, as long as I can clean myself once a week, eat somewhat regularly and be - it will all be ok. That is not where I came from, but then again it is what is within us all that really matters. I now understand something I read about the Australian Aborigines about the Dream time. This state we call waking is only a thought to our real lives where we are who we are and fulfill our quest. This state we call consciousness is really where we lug around only half aware of the magic and music of all things. To dream, to live, to dance and to pray and to be home in our temples.

Christmas break has been a life saver. I have finally slowed down and have managed to do nothing for several days now! I really should go home and get something done. I've been hiding in my parents guest bedroom. It is a good place to hide. Nobody believes that I'd go there to hide. Plain sight kind of hiding.

I was thinking about the last 3 months and all of the changes it has brought to my life. I don't really think I have had time to process what I have lived. Time is really precious. I think I have taken it for granted. Busy is one thing. Simply maniacal is another.

I like change. It is good. I was reading my emails which seriously pile up over the week and a friend from out of state IM'ed me. It is exactly what I needed. That conversation really cheered me up. I feel good, but it is like i waited all day for it.

Silly me. Now that I turned my internal engine off I am having trouble getting it to start again. I think I need to go back to journaling daily with pen and paper. Get the juices flowing. There are so many things I have been putting on hold, developing ideas for projects, stories, new artwork, poems that haven't been written yet, philosophies on life, thoughts I haven't heard, dreams I have forgotten to ponder, feelings I have ignored, things that are really important to me, life lessons, staying organized, shopping, comic books to read, books to discover myself in, music to sing and dance too. I have so much waiting for me to do, things that I love doing, how did I forget to take a break!?

How does one learn to be a workaholic in a healthy lifestyle? If I practiced the answer I would be a millionaire and people would be coming to me for answers. Maybe I should just stick to asking questions. I like questions. I like learning new things. Like what do I want to be when I grow up?

I don't plan on ever growing up. I like being me. I'm not sure of this illusion of becoming a responsible adult. The grass is always greener on the other side. Here is the rest of the story: and when you get to the other side the grass is greener from whence you came. Therefore the moral of the story is all that glitters, glitters and are you smart enough to enjoy your bling bling where you are?

Enjoy each day for the gift it has been given to you, that is my current challenge.