Somewhere Between Love and Murder

At any given time is there something you can identify that is somewhere between love and murder? Notice I did not say between love and hate.

I was at the local library this weekend and after paying my fines for not returning my toddlers books on time I decided to wander over and pick out a couple of books for myself. I ended up with a book on mythology, an inspirational book and a love story of sorts. What I took notice of was that just opposite the sordid love stories were the gruesome murder mysteries.

I think there is a fine line between crazed obsession and love, in fact I am sure of it. I have experienced sweetness at the hand of another, on the opposite I have experienced bitter, piercing words that are left to sting like salt on an open wound.

Let me moon walk...backwards....star like. There is no other way, when life throws you dung, you make a garden with it. Preferably a rambling victorian garden that appears unkept but holds great beauty and places to hide away.

Nearly or about two years ago, I did what I thought was fall in love. Mutually in love. Only to have every particle of my being blown into the atmosphere at a very high rate of speed. I questioned my very existence, my place in this world, my worth and it took every ounce of my being to make it back alive.

Back to me.

About half a year later, a long time friend kissed me while sitting at a picnic table after eating a cheeseburger. Wow...hit me in the head. I can not even begin to explain this chapter in my life. Friend, occasional dance partner, holder of random bits of useful trivia and challenger in conversation without being confrontational. He helped me get back to being me. I have told him he will always be loved and this is true.

Roughly a year after that, I did it again. Smack down, blubbering, stars in my eyes...fell in love. The first time I stood near him I swear the world stopped. Kidding. Kinda. Every step I took, every breath that escaped...I was going to say was all for him. But here I was in love but not crazed. Not yet, anyway.

I don't know if I would still be holding his hand if it weren't for just a couple of things. I did say to a woman that I would go to the ground for him.....that's another story for another time. I am not confrontational but I don't share nicely and I ummm..let's talk about that some other time.

Love may not find me again. It may never be the mutual swirl that you feel when the other one smiles and lights up your life. I am not scared to be alone. I am scared that I missed my chance. I think back on my life and wonder was there ever anyone who really loved me with a passion so undeniable that they couldn't contain it? Was it so strong that I could feel its presence before me?

Claiming to love someone while putting them thru hell that makes them think of murder...nah. I don't have enough hate in my heart for anyone to think of that. But throw a ring back, block a number, block emails, I can do that. Love is not compiled of texting xoxoxoxo's, love is respect, honesty, friendship, chemistry, communication and not just emails that can be carefully thought out but real communication.

Love's most important detail~love yourself first and foremost without reservation or worry about what or who ... listen to your heart and follow thru with its direction. If this means being alone until the tides have stopped, then so be it.

So, I sit here and cry tears that don't quite fall to my cheeks. I cry sometimes when I write not because I am sad really but because inbetween all of my paraphrasing, extra dot...dot...dots... are untold stories that I may never share. I search for the one who searches for me but not today. Not yesterday and not tomorrow. For now, I write and create and work because anything else has proven too exhausting.

Musings of a Single Mom

There are many musings to share from my brain so cluttered since I have not slowed down to write in a while. First, let's start with a funny observation. My keyboard pull out on the computer desk holds my bowl of oatmeal perfectly. It is keeping it warm while tucked away and my sleeve is unable to dip into it. Kudos to me for figuring this out. You might think this is an odd observation and quite random but if you knew everything that was in my head, no comments or posts would seem random. My pull out does not hold my keyboard, it holds my tray of beads, my portfolio and my oatmeal. The keyboard sits happily on top of the desk in front of the flat screen monitor which was so lovingly gifted upon me. Thank you cousin!

Finding Abigail is a constant endeavor. Being a single mom makes this journey a long and windy one. It is my own personal struggle of balance between wanting a family to come home to that consists of more than just my children and being all too aware that this may never happen. I am on a search for best friends, happy memories and hopefully before the end of my life I will have found someone that can not get enough of me. This works in reverse too.

So "you" want to go out on any given night and everyone is busy or sleeping. So you call no one and for yet another night you entertain yourself. If you stay at home too long, you go stir crazy. You head out and the reaction is mixed. You get stares, conversation, compliments, dances, and the occasional rude encounter. I could never understand why people in general were so surprised that a woman would go out on her own. It is not 1890 people and I am not in corsets and riding side saddle on a horse or being driven in a handsome cab. I do not put myself in danger or enter places that a lady would not want to be seen in. I do seek out fun, music and good food. If you look like a friendly bunch of people, I may invite myself to sit at your table.

Let's examine that last sentence. Remember what we are looking for? Conversation, friends, fun and happy memories all the while keeping in mind that yes, a house full of more than just three is welcomed. For the most part, people welcome this friendly invasion. Only on one occasion have I been asked to leave a table and I left so quickly and discreetly. My rambling point here I suppose is "ya people just need to all relax". I'm not out to steal your bff, bf, spouse, house, car or anything of the sorts. I bring plenty to the table and can carry on a pretty good conversation. I will not however discuss a few topics in depth and those would include politics and religion. I am not at all political and while I am religious I am not overly so. Everyone has their opinion and has a right to speak it, that is what makes this country great.

The all important factor here in my life. Kids. Two wonderful kids that I am caring for and making a life for. Not the life I had thought but still a life and I am determined to show them that life is good. I must insert a note here...it is this desire of mine to show them that I can provide a life on my own for them that keeps me going. It is also the very same desire that makes me feel unworthy of a life outside of them. Any single parent out there will understand this comment and know it is a fleeting thought.

My children are also my biggest concern as well they should be. Again, I mention this fleeting thought that I often feel I have no business having a personal or social life because I need to be here for my kids. On the flip side, I believe if you do not take care of your own needs no matter what they may be, you will not be able to care for your kids. So I let the guilt slide away in the tears and I pull up my boot straps, head into another day of work and several times a month I wander off on my own to make merry.

On other occasions I play with tinker toys or take my daughter out to dinner. I put up with objects getting thrown at me from my son and I laugh as he rolls on the floor amongst 200 or more pennies. I watch as my daughter rolls her eyes at me and walks away in exasperation. My eyes widen in amazement when my daughter actually says that she likes me. My eyes widen in pain as pebbles hit my head because my son thinks its great fun to throw them and listen to me squeal. You may have guessed that my kids are not the same ago and you have guessed correctly. My daughter is 19 and my son will be three soon.

This also makes a great topic for conversation and gets especially wide eyed looks when conversing with potential suitors. Let's all admit that it doesn't get any easier as you get older to date. Throw in kids of any age and it just got harder. Throw in a strong minded woman that has occasional relapses into mush and it just got doubly harder. Add in she doesn't sleep much, often spends far too much time wandering beaches to gather up shells that must come home, writes endlessly or has her hands in clay and fingers wrapped around wire. Toss in the need to dance to music even when there is no dance floor and add one cat who thinks he is a dog. This is my life. Welcome 2011!! Bring on the happiness....

Hello Brain, Meet my Heart

I am beginning to wonder...

What man would meet, date and eventually successfully marry an artist of any type. Notice I said successfully. Simple, artists are not. Complex, intelligent and tasty. Not to mention often spiced with a sense of humor even while being unable to recite actual jokes, like me. I am joke handicapped.

I would love to hear from my followers, many of you are artists. We are unique, to say the least. We usually have multiple interests and don't sit idle for long. This writing at the computer is the closest I come to sitting still. Many of you, like me are more than likely also insomniacs. God forbid we miss out on starlight, moonlight or daylight for that matter. There just is not enough time in the day, seriously for all that I want and need to do.

I am not joking when I say I want to open my own cafe/coffee house complete with clothes closet and soup kitchen. In it I would also have a gift shop area to sell handcrafted items and if able, I would offer boarding either for people on the spectrum or the broken hearted. This last one is a new concept that I am sure my business plan writer will have a field day with. I want to offer temporary housing to women who have no where to go and have to or want to leave their husbands.

And yes, I am growing my hair out for Locks of Love. This is going to be as tough as opening my own brick and mortar store. Already, I am not liking the way my hair is laying. I need a hat. I have ventured to Target twice and tried them on, even found one I like a lot. But it is WOOL and it is summer!

I am rambling and my words are getting a bit off topic. Where was I going with this? I know....

I consider myself an artist. I am in no particular hurry to meet someone new. I really should concentrate on my goals. Refer to my other blog to read on those. Publish, school, work, jewelry, store. Those are my goals in a nutshell. I write on four blogs, associatedcontent.com, in journals and now, I am writing a story. I also create jewelry and small sculptures and beads with clay. I can paint a little and do rub on art. I took a few lamp working classes and if I kept it up, I may be ok. I once learned to play the violin. I even dabbled in stamping. I can sew, bake and decorate.

My thought here is who the heck is going to understand all that I want to do and all that is in my head and give me the time and space to do it? All the while remembering that I tend to give 200% and will make the time for people in my life. Especially someone who would understand and embrace my thoughts and lifestyle. That's another subject. I have forgone china, big houses, cable tv and more to live simply to create. Not only does a person have to understand that but they have to be non judgmental, patient and passionate. They would have to look past my skull and cross bone tennis shoes, my silver spoon rings, my gunmetal nail polish and see my soul.

These things I wear, they are like a shield against what I will call suits. God love them and someone has to be them but I want someone willing to be silly. I have never met a "suit" that was silly. That same person would also have to sit down and drink coffee with me and stick their nose in a book or watch old movies and play Monopoly, Scrabble and Yahtzee. If they loved the sound of water as much as race cars then even better!


Yep, hello brain, meet my heart.

Let's face it. Not only are we artist types not simple folks but brain, heart, soul, physical, mental...all connected. Dot to dot. I have met some that are close to this that are not artists. But it seems I meet many that have a broken chain. No dot to dot, something is missing.

Another goal of mine is to change the world one word at a time. If I can make you question, think, analyze, make a change in your life or someone else's then, I have done well.