sueeeus

Sailing on the ribbons of a gentle wind
Freedom and Danger coyly embrace
Moving in the rhythm of a new found song
Finding self with self, face to face
Frozen by the recognition
Confounded by the juxtaposition
One look at that familiar face
Begat the journey now in place

Sailing on the ribbons of a gentle wind
Freedom and Danger coyly embrace
Moving in the rhythm of a well known song
Anxiously seeking a peaceful place
Forgotten, the question that conceived
The journey of one so carefully deceived
Freedom weeps in Danger’s hold
Danger laughs at a life waxed cold

Sailing on the fragments of an angry wind
Freedom and Danger struggle entwined
Shaking in the rhythm of a frenzied song
A searching heart long since made blind
The paradox unfolds
Wisdom, yet untold
Gain is loss and loss is gain
The sun goes down, night takes reign
Forgotten the question that conceived
The journey of one so carefully deceived

Sailing on the fragments of a tired wind
Freedom and Danger again embrace
Moving in the rhythm of a well known song
Anxiously seeking a peaceful place
Frozen by the contradiction
Convicted by the recognition
One look at that familiar face
Begat the journey now in place

Sailing on the winds of change
Freedom and Danger refuse to dance
Moving in the rhythm of a new found song
A fragile life born to a second chance
The paradox unfolds
Wisdom, yet untold
Gain is loss and loss is gain
The sun arises and light holds reign

I opened an old pad of paper to work on some sketches of my new baby carrier design and found this poem that I wrote on May 20, 1996, between 7 p.m. and 7:30 p.m. It’s written in pen and there are almost no edits. This amazes me. Not that it’s all that good, but I must have been inspired at the time. I don’t remember what inspired me. Probably disillusionment with my loser fiance and the spiritual struggles that I wrestle with from time to time.

I found this cheerful batik that I plan to use for my next baby carrier design. I’ve recently learned that I’m not nearly as obsessed with baby carriers as many many many women out there, so I’m not allowing myself any guilt over indulging in this fun fabric. It will be something bright and happy to contrast with the upcoming long cloudy gray season. I am thinking of making something that is a sort of hybrid Mei Tai and backpack, but I guess I won’t really know until it’s done. I might have enough to make a matching diaper bag or tote. That would be fun, and oh, so coordinated.

A long time ago I found this vintage mobile at a yard sale. When I say a long time ago, I mean over twenty years ago… It accompanied me through my many moves and various relationships. Also many years ago, I made a painting for my dear friend Pea Soup when she became a mother. The color photo copiers had just come on the market and I made a copy before I sent the original off to her. I think it may have been my first painting. It’s one in a three part series I had in my mind. The first in the sequence is a female figure lovingly and protectively embraced by a male figure (part of this painting is exposed in the photo above, on the right). The second in the sequence is a female figure in the bloom of pregnancy, the male embracing her with his hands gently and lovingly placed on her full belly. I never finished this one, but I did make a mosaic of a female figure in full bloom. It may appear in a future SPT post. The third in the sequence (which is the first I actually painted) is the female figure with the babe in her arms.
The series was a self-portrait series based on my hopes and dreams of family and motherhood. The little pastel angels and clouds in the mobile are so adorable. I still love them after all these years. They also represent my hopes and dreams of motherhood. This is the year I finally put them up, as this is the year that I became a mother. I am a believer in dreams coming true, even though some may take forever!

He’s so precious. I am smitten.

I don’t much like goodbyes. Hellos are good. I have a tough time when it comes to goodbyes though. My mother is in the beginning stages of a 3-month circle tour of the U.S., and dropped by for a very short visit this weekend. She and her husband arrived Saturday evening, and now, Monday morning, they are gone. I am sad. I didn’t get to say goodbye and I feel let down. When they arrived, I was on the floor playing with the baby, and my mom got right down on the floor and started playing with him, so I stayed on the floor and said my hellos from there. It was sort of a chaotic moment, then it was over. No hugs. They are early to bed, early to rise people. We had a nice day of chatting, Scrabble playing (I got a 7-letter word on the first play, with an ‘H’ on a double!) and movie watching (saw Something the Lord Made, very good film). After the movie they said goodnight, and goodbye, as they would be leaving in the morning. I had the baby in my arms again, so again, no hugs. No real goodbyes. I thought surely I’d see them in the morning before they left, as I’m up between 5:45 and 6:00 a.m. every day for my morning expression exercise. This morning I was up at 5:45. I came downstairs and peered out the window. No car. They had already left. What kind of people leave before 5:45 a.m. I was up until 1 a.m., and fed the baby at 2 a.m. Somewhere between 2 and 5:45 they departed, and I find myself sad that I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye. I feel deflated. Maybe even a bit rejected. I really wanted to say goodbye.

What an interesting title. There must be a story behind that one. Hmmmm. Welllll, let me see. Yes, there is, indeed. My mother is visiting for the weekend. She’s a smoker and steps outside frequently to light up. Last night she came back in and asked me if I knew there was something that emitted a sharp point of light, in a crevice among the rocks in the rock wall. In the rocks, I asked Not on the bank I do have a set of solar lanterns that do not spend much time collecting sunlight, and I’ve noticed at night they try to shine, but they only muster up a tiny point of bluish light. They are lined up behind a box of lilies (or what’s left of the lilies, as they have bloomed and wilted). No, she insists the strange light is coming from among the rocks. How odd. I ask the cool cat to go investigate. We’ve had raccoons back there eating the plums. Perhaps a varmint has moved in among the boulders and is peering out and the strange light is the moonlight glinting from his beady little eyes. As it turns out, there is no varmint. It is merely the sparkle of moonlight reflecting off the slimy trail left behind as a slug meandered through or across a spider web.

In retrospect, it’s not a very interesting story, but it was funny at the time. One would have to know my mother. 🙂

I am now officially afraid of pigs. Pigs are of the family Suidae, having short legs, cloven hooves, bristly hair, and a cartilaginous snout used for digging. Maybe that’s why they say here suey suey suey, only it’s really here sui sui sui. But I digress.

Suidaephobia. I made up the word. It sounds plausible, though.

I recently read (yes, I actually sat down to read a book!) a snippet about a man who remembered as a boy that he lost his dog, and deep down inside he knew that the dog went to the hogs. Or, more explicitly, the dog went snooping around as dogs so often do, and snooped his way into the pig pen, and was narry seen again. The horror of the story is that the pigs gobbled him up. This was at the heart of the man’s trust issues, or issues with authority, as his parents and until-then-trusted-adults had all told him the dog had run off. But I digress.

Reading this snippet brought to mind a scene from Hannibal, a very disturbing film, in which two of my favorite actors, Gary Oldman and Anthony Hopkins, discuss the matter of pigs. The matter being that pigs eat everything, bones and all. Of course, the pigs in this thriller were trained to be ragingly carnivorous. Such an awful film. But I digress.

Thinking of Hannibal brought to mind other references about pigs, most likely from The Sopranos and the matter of disposing of evidence, as pigs thoroughly consume every bit of it.

Who would have ever thought that the subject of cute children’s tales and nursery rhymes would be so sinister And here I am, nicknamed phonetically after these horrifying creatures.

I wonder if there is some hidden meaning or menace in my blog name. It is, after all, about a piggie. Ah, but the piggie is squished. I must have known all along that they were no good.

I stink at investing. I’m generally a day late and a dollar short. My 401k has flexible options for allocating funds, depending on how conservative or risky one is. For years I kept my money in the stable fund, being the super conservative person that I am. Along came the dot com boom and my coworkers were revelling in the super growth they’d achieved. I plodded along with my low growth stable fund. Finally, I decided that I should join the masses who were headed towards early retirement with their fast and furious gains. I reallocated my funds. Wouldn’t you know, the dot com balloon went poof. My timing was impeccable. Buy low, sell high. It sounds so simple, but for some reason, I am consistently out of phase. By the time I make a move, it invariably turns out that I’ve bought high or sold low. So, the thing to do is diversify. I tried that. Somehow, I still manage to lose. Well, maybe I’ve gained a little, but looking back over time, I would have done much better to have stayed in my safe stable fund all along, and not listen to anyone’s advice. However, I have recently decided to try being a little more active in my allocations. To keep track of daily trends and make decisions and changes more fluidly than once every two or three years. Having made that decision, two days ago, it would appear that the stars were not aligned for me. The stock price dropped, so it was a good time to buy. I tried to buy, but made my order after the closing time, which means I would get the next day’s price, not that day’s price. Drat, so there’s a time limit involved. That’s why you see scenes from the stock exchange on TV with utter chaos and people yelling, waving their arms, bits of paper fluttering through the air. Okay, I get it. I cancelled my order (nice option available with my plan) and waited to see what the next day would bring. The next day, the price dropped even more. I should have kept my order and not cancelled it. I tried to place the order again and got a proxy error, whatever in the heck that is. I guess my session timed out or something. Hmmm. So, I missed the boat again. Today was the third day of looking at stock prices. Today the price went up a bit. Not much, but a bit. It was still down a bit at 4 minutes to closing, so I decided to place my order. Confirmed. Great, at closing the price ended up being up. So I say to myself not to worry. It’s just a line in the sand. Forget about the gains or losses prior to today. Just make sure that the next time you sell, the price is higher than it is today. Don’t worry about what the price is today. It’s just your reference point. Chill. I am definitely not cut out for this. (But if my coworkers retire as multi-millionaires while I have to work until I’m 90, I’m going to be very angry with myself for not being able to grasp the simplicity of ‘BUY LOW, SELL HIGH’.)

Two Tuesdays ago… Wow, that must be an old picture of you. You’re skinny!
No, darling, I took that picture today. It’s Self Portrait Tuesday. It’s current.

Yesterday… Wow, you look so skinny! And so young. You look twenty years younger than you are. That picture doesn’t look anything like you.

Ahh, true love.

(Of course I’m going to post flattering photos. And I may have to take two hundred before I get one, but by golly, there’s bound to be something that I can work with. It’s digital…)

Too Much Information
This goes with the previous two posts; ref great gizmo.
psp glass block rendering

status quo
A Life Out of Balance

Eponine

fresh color and a new youthful do, purposefully messy,
no brushing desired or required
psp colored chalk rendering