From the Roof Deck This Morning

Pete stuck an old pie box in the railing to block a spotlight from a neighbor's yard that shines too brightly at night.

I can't drink coffee anymore. No caffeine for me. There are a lot of things I can no longer consume at this time. I'm perimenopausal. If you haven't heard, and I hadn't, perimenopause can cause a gal's hormones to run amok and make  her an insane, discombobulated, miserable wretch. And damn, it can sneak up on you too. You don't realize you've lost it until, from out of nowhere, you get a blessed flash of clarity and you find yourself in the middle of a swamp with no solid ground in sight. 

I didn't think it was my hormones. I mean, the last five years have been very tumultuous and involved a great deal of change and loss. I just thought it was my crappy life that was getting me down. Only I don't really have a crappy life at all. Trauma and profound loss don't have to ruin every aspect of your life. I've taken some blows but my life is far from crappy overall. That lack of perspective is an example of how I'd slipped off the rails. It starts with legitimate trauma and then before you know it you're careening down a dark and bumpy road, unable to see the exit ramps. 

Fortunately a friend told me about The Hormone Cure, by Sara Gottfried. IT REALLY HELPED. First of all, it spoke to me. I had almost every possible symptom, especially sleeplessness, foggy-headedness and rage. RAGE! I read the book and thought "THIS BOOK IS ABOUT ME!" (See - all caps. I really did.)

Based on what I read in the book, I determined that I had high cortisol. I ended up having to give up both caffeine and booze. I was so desperate I couldn't wait to give them up. I dove right in. It's been five months now and it's been so worth it. Sanity is worth whatever I have to do to keep it. I'm also taking fish oil and a number of vitamins to support my healthy temperament. It's been an adjustment but, again, so worth it. 

However, decaf sux. Over the years I'd come to rely on a comforting warm beverage first thing in the morning. The caffeine buzz was delicious as well but I understand I have to let that go. I feel a bit sad about letting go of the warm comfort though. There have been days I've sipped warm water from my mug. I'm picky about flavor. I feel that if something doesn't taste good, why put it in your mouth? Green tea wasn't cutting it. Herbal tea neither. I actually like echinacea tea but I don't think one should drink that every day. Mostly I've gone with decaf, attempting to view it as not coffee but a drink in its own right. It's not a very good drink in its own right. Those are the breaks. Oh well. 

So here I am on my lovely, un-sucky roof deck on a beautiful early summer morning with my excellent mug. 

The tall tree in the background is named Sasha Fierce

Things are not perfect. (I haven't set up my summer planters yet. There's an old, greasy pie box shoved in the deck railing. How am I going to attract a following for my blog if I don't have beautiful photos of how I'm doing everything right?) Decaf is unrewarding. I can't "party" like I used to. But I have a nice life. 

Super-bakey

South End Open Studios is this weekend. I will be participating. I had planned to go down to our space on Monday and hang some kind of sculpture thing that I was going to make then and there. Instead I decided that the only honest thing to do would be to make meringues and chocolate éclairs and give them to people who come to our gallery.

I was partially inspired to do this by the random stuff being discussed on Facebook right now. I won't spell those things out as no doubt equally random things are being discussed on Facebook as you read this (unless no one Facebooks anymore and everyone's moved on to the next thing by the time you read this.) I was partially inspired by this guy, Tee Major. How did I get from a guy displaying his EXTREME fitness skills to making meringues and chocolate éclairs? Hmmm...

Long story short, nothing makes sense. The wonders of the world. All the bizarre and random things that happen every day, all the time. When nothing makes sense you can only do what makes the most sense to you. For Tee Major it makes TONS of sense to work out for thousands of hours so he can support his body weight on the tips of his fingers and do pushups during which he spins around in midair. I would say the vast majority of humans on this planet would have no need to use those skills but Tee Major WENT FOR IT. Dedication, determination, drive, practice, focus for hours and hours and hours. He can do Superman Push Ups. It's amazing. That makes sense to him and I respect and admire that.

On Monday I saw no difference between his drive to learn to master his body in that way and my desire to master making éclairs and meringues. You have to do what makes sense to YOU. That made sense to me. 

SO...

I couldn't believe it was actually working! The batter was rising!

Would you look at that - they're browning and look like real éclairs!

Naked without their chocolate ganache.

Éclair pastry turns out to be pretty easy to make. You use a saucepan, a mixing bowl, and a wooden spoon. The batter is made of butter, water, sugar, salt, a little flour, and four beaten eggs.  you heat the first four ingredients in the pan until the butter melts. You dump the flour in all at once and stir over the heat until the batter clumps into a dough and begins to leave a film on the bottom of the pan. Then you dump the dough into the mixing bowl and stir it to cool it for a minute or two. Then you add the beaten eggs in four parts, stirring well with your wooden spoon after each part. Bang - you got éclair dough. So simple no wonder I was surprised it worked. You can also make cream puffs and cheese poufs called "gougères" with this same dough. And believe me I will. Easy and like magic therefore fun.

Now the meringues. I used to make meringues all the time when I was a kid. Once our housekeeper, Sarah (who saved my life so many times in so many ways) showed me how to do it I never had a problem. Until this Monday (of course the last time I tried was possibly 38 years ago) Four disastrous batches before I got a passable one. Then these happened:

I might be able to use these failures for something.

These look horrible but they taste good. I used a recipe that suggested heating the sugar in the oven before you mix it into the egg whites to help it dissolve more quickly. I might try that again sometime.

Making my own superfine sugar.

The best way to have the sugar dissolve nicely is to use superfine sugar. I couldn't find any at the three markets I looked in so I tried making my own. It seemed to work. I never used superfine sugar when I was a kit though. Just normal eggs, normal sugar, and a normal handheld mixer.

One problem may have been that I tried using a carton of egg whites. You can buy a carton of just the whites. Don't do that for meringues. It's unreliable. The last batch I made with those whipped up beautifully. Nice and stiff until about two-thirds of the way through adding the sugar when the whole thing suddenly turned into soup. My worst batch yet. Down the sink.

Finally I did everything as super-right as I could. I separated my own whites (which I don't like to do because then you have yolks you have to do something with) let them come to room temperature, wiped down everything that was going to come in contact with the whites with white vinegar to eliminate any possible trace of grease (grease prevents the whites from whipping up) added cream of tartar, used brand new sugar out of a fresh box rather than the sugar I store my vanilla beans in (just in case there's vanilla bean oil?) and it worked perfectly. I don't remember having to be so fussy when I was a kid.

SUCCESS! This batch was a monster! It tried to escape from the bowl! Look at that glorious texture though!

I cannot tell you how exhilarating it was when the super-stiff egg and sugar batter started fighting me back! A delightful, white, fluffy monster! Trying to wrest the beater from my hands and to fling itself out of the bowl and all over the kitchen! So exciting! Maybe one day I'll figure out a way to just bake it all whipped in the bowl. Look how gorgeous that is!

Successful batch number two (out of maybe eight batches total) is pictured below.

Freeform

Piped

I wanted to make odd shapes and sizes. I made some big ones, maybe the size of a croissant, but I think I can do better with those so no photos. I want to make huge ones and ones in different colors. Pristine white was what I went for this time.

Now I'm absolutely exhausted and I'm going to bed late and I have to get up early so I can do more set-up stuff for this show. I still don't know how I'm going to display all this stuff or how I'm going to assemble the éclairs and get them down to the gallery on Saturday. 

I'm not even sure this was a good idea or that I fully understand now what I was thinking when I chose this course of action. Gonna have to cross that bridge when I get to it. That is how I like to make art. It usually works out okay.

I have to say that I have never had this much trouble in the kitchen in my life. Never! 

You Have More Going On Than Your Face

This is going to be a little controversial. Just a little. I'm posting this thought here rather than on Facebook because it's more nuanced than a status update really allows. Plus I'm scared the wrong people will see it and get insulted and that's less likely to happen here. I don't want to insult anyone.

The thought: it bugs me when people (usually but not always gals) post photos of themselves where they think they look really good. It's asking for approval for the wrong reasons. You're supposed to say "congratulations on being so damn good-looking!" Then what? That's all there is.

You know what I mean. Not the "Hey I got dressed up for a special occasion and wow, look how surprisingly well I clean up!"kind of thing. Not the "I just won the karate competition! Check out my fearsome biceps!" kind of thing. Not the "look at these wacky rock club bathrooms!" kind of thing. It's the "I am sultry(/cool/hot) - you know you want me, don't you wish you could just gaze at me all day long" thing.

Now I feel like a jerk because it probably just means they're feeling a little low and need some encouragement. I know I need A LOT of encouragement. I don't know though, your looks are just your looks. They're NOT the most interesting thing about you.

Some people are bragging. Some people might think it's the only thing they really have going for them. I'm not trying to be judgy. It just makes me feel uncomfortable to see that kind of thing.

Sure, I picked that photo to the right over there because I thought it was flattering. You do want to pick a nice photo to represent yourself online most of the time. Put your best face forward. That's natural. We all want to feel good about ourselves in as many areas as possible. I should probably just lighten up. But so much emphasis on appearance. I wish it wasn't like that.

Maybe it's no better to post more substantive examples of one's greatness, like how you dominated the karate competition or how you got an A on your term paper. IN YOUR FACE WITH MY AWESOMENESS! There is a place for pride in one's achievements though.

I don't want to stop anyone from getting the sense of approval they need. So if you're into flooding your Facebook feed with dreamy photos of yourself you go right on. I will probably refrain from commenting.

I hope I don't regret posting this.

Inanimate Identification

I was meditating today when it occurred to me that I feel pretty strong. In fact, I feel like the Empire State Building. I feel like the Empire State Building with King Kong climbing up me and airplanes zooming around shooting everything up. I feel like there's a TON of bizarre activity going on all over and around me that I have strong opinions about but no way of influencing. So I just have to stand tall here and watch it all play out. I know that in time, once King Kong is done, Loki and the Avengers will be along to blow big holes in me and break my windows. That's just life in the big city. 

I Didn't Know I Could Do This

Well this is a new one: I've e-over-socialled myself. I didn't know that was possible.

I have limited capacity for being around other people. Everyone does I guess but I think I hit a wall sooner than most. Classic introvert.

My high school reunion is coming up. I agreed to get in touch with seven of my classmates, only one of which I communicate with regularly, to make sure their contact info is up to date and to see if they're thinking about coming to the reunion.

Phone-phobic that I am, I've mostly been communicating by e-mail or Facebook message. Over-achieving communicator that I am, it takes me about an hour and a half (at least) to write a short e-mail. I want to be clear and expressive. I want to avoid misunderstandings (fail). I want to be present and authentic.

Of course it isn't as easy as writing seven e-mails. (Some people would just write one and send it to everyone on the list. What is my problem?) I couldn't find everyone so I had to contact other people who might know where my missing people are. I also contacted a few others because I was thinking about them and it seemed like a good idea to see how the were. The whole thing snowballed. Now I'm managing about eight e-correspondences of varying intensity.

It's not like it's a bad thing. I really like, respect and admire the folks I've been corresponding with. It's just too much socialness! My little amorphous brain can't handle it! All the reading! All the writing! All the thinking! All the interpreting and reading between the lines! All the not-going-down-the-rabbit-hole-of-thinking-about-adolescent-blunders-and-failures!

I just want to think about colors and textures and shapes for a while. Or nothing. I want to think about nothing. Or just a thin veil of light blue. Or a blurry image of white hydrangeas in a glass jar.

However, I have a deadline and two more people to reach one way or another and one more person to thank for forwarding contact info to me - another person I really like and hope to see again someday.

I bet I can put it all off for a couple more hours. Or maybe I'll just crank out two (hopefully) quick-ish e-mails and get the hard part done with and do the follow-up at a more leisurely pace.

I've got to lighten up. I'm making myself nuts.

Sport

So, you can see I've been working out. This is on the new side for me. I'm pretty uncoordinated and have never been good at sports.

My parents were actually anti-sports. I think in their youths they had problems with bullying and the entitlement and aggression that success in athletics can bring people if they aren't careful or trained properly. I understand that. It's probably happened to everyone at some time in their life. I think my parents might have gone a little too far in the opposite direction. They never said "No! You can't play volleyball!" They just didn't encourage athletics. I did play volleyball in high school. I was even pretty not that terrible at it. I was MVP my JV year. I have a silver plate to commemorate it. Go me!

I've gone through fitness phases in the past though. Fencing club in college (hi John!), aerobics in the late 80s. I started running in 2000 but let it slide for a while.

Then came the hard times and the mid-life crisis. I wanted to get fit and strong so I'd have stamina for what Life brings. So far so good. I'm enjoying it. This morning I was trying to figure out what my sport could be.

This sounds really lame but I decided that Life is my sport. I'm not trying to minimize life by saying it's a sport. I'm not trying to see it as less dimensional. Life is everyone's sport. It's the multi-dimensional obstacle course we all engage with every day. Our team mates are everyone, whether we (or they) know it or see it that way or not. We're all playing together. I don't mean playing like a fun game, I mean engaging with our surroundings in an attempt to triumph over them.

At this time I don't think my efforts to train need to be more directed than that. Life is a perfectly acceptable sport.

What am I saying??? Life is THE  sport. Everything else is just a mini-game.

California Breakfast

We're at my mom's house and boy, is her house full of great food. My breakfast has Uncle Sam cereal and yogurt under all that fruit. I could eat like that in New England too but it's much harder to come by fresh fruit of this quality there. 

Food-wise I've been just barely getting by lately. I just buy the least possible stuff to feed my face healthfully. Pretty much all I buy at the market is kale (or Brussels sprouts or broccoli) dried beans, eggs and bread.

(What's the deal with this Oxford comma thing? My school was all hoity-toity, self satisfied about not using one. I distinctly remember my teacher's exposition on it. I don't remember which teacher it was so maybe I'm making it all up. "Ultimately it doesn't matter which way you choose to do it as long as you are consistent. We do not use one here at NCS." That's how I remember it.

I have very strong memories of learning punctuation. It must have been very important to me. I rember being very confused about commas and latching with relief on the takeaway: when in doubt, leave it out. I have a lot of doubt. I don't always leave it out.)

Two parenthetical paragraphs. Who am I? Mini David Foster Wallace?

Anyway, we were talking about food. I also buy bourbon and pickles but that should be obvious from some of my recent posts. (Looks like I should also be stocking up on matches, if you catch my drift.)

Maybe I'd buy a better variety of more interesting foods if I was concentrating on life's joys. I've really been focusing on the duties lately. It's fine. I'm healthy. I'm getting a lot done. I'm learning a lot which is something that is very important to me. I'm even enjoying myself when I can. It's a low-key satisfaction-with-being-relatively-competent-as-an-adult kind of enjoyment. Sounds fun, huh? Well it's different and I like variety.

I don't feel quite ready yet to go back to variety in my food buying habits yet. Grief brings out austerity in me I guess. I'm still finding my way through this landscape of absent things. I feel like I need to focus and not distract myself with strawberries. Chocolate and booze (in moderation - I'm a middle-aged lady and can't process the sauce like I used to) are okay though. Chocolate is actually a necessity.

For now I'm on vacation at Mom's and I'm so happy to take advantage of what she's provided. Thanks Mom!

Control Your Punctuation, Maybe?

And another thing:

I was thinking about this while I was on the treadmill today trying to harness my mind into thinking about something useful while my body was busy doing something I wasn't especially comfortable thinking about: (double colons! Triple "thinkings!" That can't be good...) I was thinking* about resolutions and goals for the upcoming months. Like sticking to a budget and being tidier. It occurred to me that my resolutions and goals tend to be about me controlling myself.

Whoa Nellie! Control yourself! It's a slippery slope! Better watch it or you'll wipe out! As usual!

It occurred to me that maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Maybe it would be more fair, more reasonable if you're going to tighten up somewhere, to loosen up somewhere else? But where can a goofball like me afford to loosen up? I do not know. I'll have to think about it. Anybody have any thoughts?


*Another one!

All That And A Little Champagne

I'll admit it: I'm down in the dumps today. To my mind (and sense of superstition) that's not a good way to kick off a new year.

I tend to dress with symbolism. Here are the symbols I've chosen to help me out today:

The new "bralette" I found myself yesterday. It's day-glo green, not that you can tell from the photo.

My Charlie button, to honor my friend who I love, and my whammo earrings to give me strength and remind me of my goddess of a sister-in-law who gave them to me. It's nice to know someone like that has your back.

I've also got a selection of deep pink lipsticks and these:

(Photo taken on a moving train) for extra oomph.

All that and a little champagne and I'll probably make it through.

Girl Talk

A meaningless post of limited interest to anyone who isn't me. Just something I want to "get off my chest." HA HA HA! 'Cause it's about BRAS!

Okay, I guess I did lose A LOT of weight, particularly in the boob region because I don't have any anymore. No boobs. Now all my bras are huge and empty and crinkle like raisins under my clothes. I want to get rid of them all. Do people want secondhand bras? Maybe newer ones. I'll probably just toss 'em.

Anyway, I don't have (or don't want to spend) the time it takes to figure out what size I am now. Still, I'm old and saggy and vain enough to not want to go without. Gotta do something. 

I suppose I could get by with bikini tops until I feel like going through the rigamarole of solving my saggy mosquito bite problem. Maybe I could find myself some piña colada scented perfume and pretend I'm on vacation! So long, midwinter blahs!

It's hard for me to imagine getting midwinter blahs when I'm so excited to have my regular, not-Christmas, life back. I have projects I'm working on. I have experiments to do. My big goal over the next three months is to see if I can keep myself reasonably sane. 

My theory is that everything runs more smoothly if I'm sane. That sounds obvious. Think of all the undermining behaviors one gets up to when one is stressed out and feels constantly harried. Stress eating, impulse buying, watching too much T.V., otherwise self-medicating. It boils down to precious resource wasting: money, time, energy. If I can stay sane just look at all the everything I'll save.

But it can be hard to prioritize sanity. It's amazing how easy it is to put aside the simple things that keep me sane (like having enough time to myself or getting enough sleep) for accommodating other people.

It's going to be a big project. I will have to concentrate. I'll have to stick to my guns. I'm interested to see how it works out. So how could I develop midwinter blahs? I'm sure I'll manage. Everyone does.

Bikini tops under sweaters and fleece and down. Why not? It doesn't hurt to try. I love experiments.

Socks Can Sometimes Say It All

Or at least what's worth saying.

Here's the pair I'm wearing today:

Yesterday I wore these:

If you want a pair, or thirty, you can get them at Blue Q. I plan to buy more pairs. Because they're all I want to wear.

In Honor

In honor of our friend who passed today, I post (again?) the recipe I use for for Cincinnati Chili, to which he introduced us (my comments in parenthesis) I'll likely be cooking up a big batch tomorrow.

Cincinnati Empress Chili

For the chili:

2 lbs. ground beef 

1 qt.  water  (4 cups)

1  & 1/2 t. allspice

1 garlic clove (I used more of course)

2 bay leaves

2 diced onions

dash worcestershire

1  can (6oz) tomato paste

1 T. salt

1/2 t. cayenne

1 & 1/2 t.  black pepper

3 T. chili powder (though I used less than 1T because I ran out and it still came out well)

1 t. cinnamon

1/2 t. cumin

1 T. vinegar

spaghetti - make a pretty fair amount 

Toppings:

orange cheddar cheese grated

kidney beans

chopped onions

oyster crackers

Tabasco sauce

Put the water in a large pot or hotpot.  Crumble meat into the water (yes, raw)  and add all the other chili ingredients.  Bring to a boil then simmer at least one hour and for as long as three hours.  Remove garlic and bay leaves.  (or leave in the garlic and mash it if you’re me)  Serve over spaghetti with your choice of toppings.

Serves six or so

Godspeed, dear friend! We'll never forget you!

Marathon-y

My big plans for today were to go downtown and get myself a new fleece from the Patagonia store and to get new pants to wear to work. I've been running enough that my old pants are all too big. Or else their seats are worn out and you can see light through them when you try to put them on. Classy.

HOWEVER, the Red Sox won the World Series (Go Sox!) and today is the big parade. All over town.

I'm keeping track of public transportation via Twitter and things are a mess. It actually sounds worse than the usual marathon crowd. They're closing T stations (and re-opening them) to control crowds. I'm feeling a bit thwarted. I wanted to get an early start and I was foiled. Oh well.

With uncanny luck, I'm supposed to meet Lisa downtown, just like we tend to do on Patriots Day. We're meeting at 1:00 so hopefully things will have wound down by then. Come to think of it, maybe I should leave now so I'm sure to be there on time.

The weather is fantastic for this kind of thing though. Sixty-ish degrees and sunny, not too windy. A lot of people I know are down by the parade route soaking in the jubilation. I'm not feeling jubilant I'm afraid.

Actually, this morning I checked in with my friend - I don't know what to call it! Our friend whose husband (who is also our friend) is dying. What do you call that? Dying Friend Family? Pool of Pain and Misery? Ouchland? @#$%$&*-ville? (And of course it's not all bad - there are levels of beauty and grace and love to it too but it still HURTS LIKE @$^#%*& and is really, really hard - I mean I don't want to oversimplify) She asked me what I was doing today and everything I could think of to say felt so stupid and trivial and like I should just go over there and take her kid out to play.

So I don't know. I guess I'll just go outside and see where the day takes me. I can get a fleece tomorrow if I need to. I could just order one online if it comes to that. Sigh.

Good luck to you today, however your day goes.

I'm At It Again

I can blog from the subway with this thing (phone)! While I'm commuting to work! So exciting - because I've got bees in my bonnet.

Do you ever feel like you're living in a ghost world? Everything around you has already changed irrevocably but it's still there. Nothing looks outwardly different but everything you live with, everything you're walking around is hollow or just a shadow. It's only a matter of time before all of it disappears.

If I had time to meditate today it would probably be one of those sessions where I'd just cry for half an hour. It's not that everything is so terrible - some things are great (like my meatloaf) Life is just so damned confusing.

Hearts kind of suck. They make you love stuff. People, creatures, situations, even objects. You have no control. You want things that are bad for you - AND good for you AT THE SAME TIME. How can you tell which? It doesn't matter which  because you can't have them anyway. Or you can and then it's a big mess. You love, then you lose! Then your stupid heart stops working altogether and you die! Who invented this crazy system? Absurd!

So many things going on all the time. Love, loss, joy, heartbreak, beauty, horror, ALL AT ONCE!

It's enough to make a gal just want to sit on the sofa, knit, and watch alternating episodes of "Miss Marple" and "The X-Files" while eating bon-bons and drinking single malt scotch for a month. 

Thank heaven I have this chocolate bar at my desk. 

That might calm me down. It's a known fact that chocolate causes a chemical reaction in the human brain that creates a direct connection to the stable "Astral Chocolate Plane" of The Universe. Known. Fact. 

Gotta go do stuff now. Chase papers around, find numbers 'n' stuff.

Making Sticks

A Stick

I don't think I've mentioned the collaborative installation project I'm doing with my gallery-mate, Denise. It's looming. We show December 6th. The only parameter we set was that we were going to make vertical elements. I'm at the point now where I just call them sticks.

Denise is really cranking on the sticks. We've met at her studio to touch base once each of the last two months. I've brought either nothing but photos (the sticks were drying and not transportable) or just a handful of stuff. She's got dozens. Dozens of really good sticks along with handfuls of truly amazing sticks.

I'm lagging in the numbers. My contribution has been more in the area of going off into left field. I was the first to make a stick with offshoots. Not like the one above, but one that has stars shooting off of it on long, bendy wires. I also started stringing things on wire to hang from the ceiling. I had beads I wanted to use.

Hell, I have a lot going on right now! Plus, my studio's a two-and-a-half hour drive away. There's no room to make a mess or dry anything in our apartment where I have to be five days a week so I had to think of ways to make sticks that didn't need to dry. These beaded things (which I'm still calling sticks even though they're more like giant necklaces or bracelets) just pile into a bag which I could stash under the sofa if I felt like it.

I also have some industrial twine in a bunch of different colors that I want to crochet sticks out of. How much time do I have? NOT ENOUGH. Between the travel, the death, the dumb things I thoughtlessly said I'd do, the party I want to have because I love my friends and I want to see them, and - let's just call it - the LIFE, I feel like I'm falling behind. I don't want to let Denise down.

Well crap. I just have to do the best I can, right? So that's what I'm doing. I really don't want to get into some anxiety-based, all-nighter pulling, no bathing, monastic existence of cranking out sticks like an underage Chinese factory worker. Now is not the time. Things are hard enough. I want to keep my eye on the big picture of where my life is going. I want to remain mentally healthy. I am so grateful that I naturally wake up at 4:30 - 5:00 AM these days. I get so much more done that way.

This project has been really good for me. While I do feel I'm not holding up my end as far as numbers go, I'm really enjoying making these things. I'm working happily away in my studio (or my living room) for hours. Working in my studio has often been torturous in the past so it's nice to be getting hours of practice of just honest work under my belt. You know, wearing down a passage in my brain where I enjoy working for hours in my studio. Hopefully erasing the passage in my brain where I force myself to go to my studio and relentlessly prod myself to just do something, anything, just do it and it hurts and it's horrible.

Eh, art. It is what it is. Like everything else, some days you got it, some days you don't.

Alrighty, I'd better go make some more sticks now. Later!

Life Is Short And I Don't Know How To Do It

If the post below seems a bit lackluster it's because my heart wasn't really in it. It was the post I'd planned to write on Sunday but I ran out of time. I don't really have time to write this post now. I just got off of work, I'm still at my desk and I'm expected somewhere else in forty-five minutes. That said, I gotta do what I gotta do.

We have a dear friend who is unlikely to be with us for much longer. This is what's really on my mind today.

Did I write yet that I've realized that you don't like your friends, you love them? Probably. I've been thinking about it a lot lately. It's very difficult knowing that this vibrant person with such a unique mind, so much talent, so much love and appreciation for life will be leaving us. We won't have him around to inspire us, to chew the fat with, to enjoy a great meal with. We won't have the distinct pleasure of his company.

There have been times in my life where I've felt as if everything I love was going away. Of course for me it wasn't true. My friend is really being taken away from EVERYTHING he loves. He doesn't want to go. It's so hard to see him fight with this. I can't make him feel better. Pete can't make him feel better. His beloved wife can't make him feel better.

God, it hurts so much.

And it makes me want to LIVE. It makes me want to throw caution to the wind and just GO. Buy shoes I can't afford, throw a HELL of a Halloween party, tell all my friends how much I love them, smooch people I shouldn't (decorum be damned!) plan a trip to Hawaii, quit my job and drive across country, eat A LOT of chocolate, run outside in the wind, swim in the ocean. It makes me want to be extravagant.

I'm usually prudent by nature and very careful of the needs and wishes of others. These tendencies calm me down, cool me off. I would like to be extravagant but I'm not sure I'd dare in the long run. People can appreciate lavishness from time to time but full-on extravagance is overwhelming, bunch of Yankees that most of us are around here. The truth is, too, that as an introvert I'm not sure I could muster the energy for constant extravagance.

I wonder if there's a way to be extravagant in spurts? Then run away to my secret cave when the repercussions hit? Then, energy restored by solitude, jump out and scare the pants off of everyone with more effusiveness. Sounds psycho. Sounds counter-productive. 

All of those things seem pretty stupid and trivial too. (I don't think Pete would be on board with the smooching part either) What is trivial though? I don't know. What's important? Maybe those stupid little things, the things that are fun and that we enjoy are necessary components of a great life and not trivial in the least?

I want to live without reins. I bet I won't though. I want to celebrate life. I might buy the shoes and I'll certainly try to throw a HELL of a Halloween party.

Another thing I've been thinking about, and I'm pretty sure I've already mentioned it here (possibly around this time last year) is that you get to keep the love. When our friend is gone we'll still have his love for us and our love for him. That is comforting to me. I hope it's the same for him, wherever he ends up. Dear friend.

I Get To Run

One reason I love running is that it's a vote for me.  When I run it feels like a new start each time. It feels like anything in my life is possible.

I am looking so hard for a new path. There has been so much change in my life over the last few years. Most of it has felt like hard pruning. Only one or two things have felt like water or sunshine or fertilizer. I wonder if I've been moved to a different location in the garden and I just haven't noticed yet?

For you non-gardeners, before you move a plant you cut it back drastically. You have to do that because when you dig it up you will inevitably chop off a lot of the root system. If you don't cut a significant portion of the top off the remaining roots can't sustain the plant and it will fail. Once the root system re-establishes itself the green stuff grows back.

So maybe I've had my tops cut off and my roots disturbed and I can't tell where I am yet.

I've been trying a lot of new things. I've been looking for the next direction. I feel like I'm being blown all over the place and the next direction is, well, all over the place. Things start then stop. Things look good then they just die out. Something will work for a bit but I know it's temporary and I'll have to figure out something else soon. Some things are just obviously wrong. I get discouraged sometimes. I'll get it eventually - I think - but it seems to be taking so long and I seem to get so much wrong.

Then I get to go running. I start over. I run my head into a pulp and wake my body the hell up. My lungs pump, my blood flows, I sweat, my nose runs (TMI!) My bones, tissues, ligaments get a good pounding on my terms. Life flows through me again. I'm new.

I can let go of the mistakes and miss-steps. I've cleared out the debris and can see a way to keep trying to move forward. I can find a way past the things that fell and blocked my path - at least the next immediate step, even if it doesn't turn out to be a good, long stretch of road.

Roads, paths, prunings, wind. It's all very confusing. What is the analogy here? Life isn't coherent so why should I have to be? Here's the analogy: complete tumult. And then I get to run.

'Tis the Season?

I don't know why I'm posting so much all of a sudden. Maybe it's the season? NaBloPoMo (which I don't think I'll be doing this year) is just around the corner. Maybe I'm in the mood? I don't know, usually I like to be in a better frame of mind than I've been in lately when I post. Guess I'm just feeling it. And Facebook has been boring the crap out of me.

Time has been very tight for the last month or so. Yesterday on the plane I had some time to look at my calendar. I was trying to figure out how my schedule had gotten so out of whack. Why had the last few weeks seemed so unmanageable and exhausting? What did I need to change to feel less stressed and overwhelmed?

It turns out that my schedule is fine, I just need people to stop dying.

I know that's never going to happen. Death is not done yet. At the moment Death is just hanging around having a cigarette or two before it finishes one pending job that I'm aware of. Who knows what else it has up its tattered sleeve?

I really hope it gives us a breather after that. I mean, I'm not going to go into other peoples' health/death issues but it's been pretty grim and deathy around here lately. 

I know it doesn't always have to be like that because we had quite a long period there when no one we knew had a life threatening illness and everyone stayed above ground or out of the crematory. 

I don't know, maybe it's better to be constantly acutely aware that the people you love won't be around forever. I know I see my friends with new eyes and interact with them differently now. They probably all wonder what my problem is and why I'm being so damned sociable all of a sudden. Can't I leave them alone? They've got shit to do! Okay, it's not really that bad. I am an introvert after all. I can only really take so much socializing.

But my friends are definitely getting a more intense Mel experience these days. Most of them have no idea where it's coming from. I'm just really aware of how much I value my loved ones now. I'm also more aware of who my loved ones are. It's pretty intense for me too. I'm glad they're not in the same headspace as me. It's uncomfortable. I don't wish that on others.

That said, I am really enjoying the massive boost of gratitude I have for the beauty in my life and for all the people I love. So it's not all bad. Uncomfortable but beautiful. 

It's not like Life and Death take requests. Ultimately my schedule is out of my hands and I just have to do the best I can with the cards I'm dealt. Make lemonade and all that crap. 

All of this love and concern are worth the confusion and running around. How effective in life does someone like me really need to be? I'm not solving world hunger or curing cancer. I'm just this thing. I can have a screwy schedule.

Red Lipstick! And Garlic!

I'm gonna wear red lipstick every day for the rest of this month!

Okay, I probably won't but sometimes red is good for what ails you.

I'm going to the North Quabbin Garlic and Arts Festival today with Michaela. Last time we went it was cold and rainy and muddy and kind of slim on the vendors. There was still plenty of garlic to buy for planting and there were plenty of cider doughnuts. As I recall there was even a guy on those really tall stilts. In the mud. Go that guy! I wasn't disappointed. The garlic I grew from there made me really happy. So, yeah, I'm looking forward to doing it again.

In red lipstick! Charging up the iPhone to take pictures and live blog it! Watch me forget an you never hear about this again.

It Has Been a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG Time

I am in a really great mood today and it has been a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time since that's been the case. Long time.

I think it might be the weather. It was forty-five degrees in Cambridge yesterday morning and forty-five again this morning in Vermont. I, myself, am absolutely shocked by the improvement this makes in my mood.

I know I hate summer. I've never liked it, now I hate it. I know this. I just didn't realize how demoralizing it is to me. Joie de vivre completely eludes me in the summer. Without my being aware of it, day to day life becomes about endurance.

That sounds so dramatic. It doesn't feel dramatic when I live it, it just feels like ordinary life. Until it stops and I feel like a bird released from underneath a black plastic tarp. Glory! The sky! The air! I can soar again!

How often do you go through your day wondering "why am I like this?" I do it all the time. (Not just about summer.)

I am very excited about today. I'm going to do laundry and make stuff in my studio. Then I might garden and I might dye my hair. No doubt I will wash the kitchen sink. Maybe later I'll drink some blackberry moonshine and have a fire in the fire pit. These are not exciting things and yet I am so excited.

I hope you all have a wonderful day.