September 7, 2012
Topic suggested by Laura Christie
I love the rain. I love walking in the rain, swimming in the rain, dancing in the rain. Everything except driving in the rain. Driving in the rain I don't like. At all. Yuck.
The best part about the rain is how, in one moment, it can wash away so much negativity. Cars get cleaned, lawns get mowed, houses and streets look brighter.
In wintertime, my favorite moments are listening to the rain in front of the fireplace.
But summer...summer is a whole different kind of rain. It's the go outside and stand amidst the droplets of water. It's feeling yourself in the moment. You're outside actually feeling your environment.
I love summer rain. I hope to share in its company again soon.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Dead Ants, Whipped Cream, and Batman
September 6, 2012
Topic suggested by Chris LaVrar :-) ~ Romance
I don't even know what the heck romance is. Well, maybe I do. The funny thing about romance is it's an entirely personal matter. And there's two sides to the romantic equation. And what's being offered isn't always what's being received.
Let me expand a bit. If I gave someone a dozen roses...I would consider that a romantic gesture. If that person was allergic to roses or just didn't like flowers...my romantic gesture would not be appreciated. In the case of an allergy, I would end up causes the recipient to feel bad.
Romantic intentions. Causing someone else's soul to feel cared for...loved. When what is given is what is received (or even better...when what is received is felt more than what is given)...those are the moments we remember forever.
Since the topic is romance, I get to retreat to a place where I am remembering those moments that made me feel like I was on top of the world. And since this is my post, I want to share some of the moments that have stood out over time. The most romantic gestures for me.
~ As everyone knows, I love music. Love. A few times in my life, I've had a few songs written for / inspired by me. Having someone sing me a song they wrote for me...well that just melts my heart.
~One of my best memories is coming home and having rose petals spread out throughout the house. In a certain section...they spelled I LOVE YOU. It was awesome...except for the million ants that came into the house atop the rose petals. There was a mad dash to remove all the flowers and annihilate the unwelcome ants. Now, this could have been a case of an unappreciated gesture...but we laughed so hard that it became one of the best moments ever. It was the laughter...the contentment of sweeping away the ants...it was the unexpected gesture that made for great romance.
~Sitting atop a brick wall, sounds of seals in the background...and having a new love entrust me with his late fathers ring. It wasn't the ring that was what made my heart skip a beat, but the fact that he trusted me.
~Favorite all time first date gesture...I was brought a bottle of diet coke (since I wasn't a big drinker) and a can of whipped cream (just in case). I don't know why, but that one always sticks out in my head. And no, that whipped cream was not used...but it was nonetheless greatly appreciated.
~Unexpected sweet gestures. Getting a cup of coffee brought to you when you're working late (and the best is when they know how you take your coffee). Waking up on a cold day and finding that your love went to the garage to start the car for you and get the heater working before you left for work.
~My most recent favorite moment...when I was repaving my driveway and...while it was still wet...being brought a Batman symbol mold so I could imprint the wet cement with my beloved Batman.
So romance is what you make of it. Everyone sees things differently. What's romantic is finding that one thing that makes another person feel special.
Thank you Chris for the topic. By the way...for any readers out there...Chris LaVrar is an amazing freestyle rapper. He was featured this season on America's Got Talent. If you get a chance, check him out.
Topic suggested by Chris LaVrar :-) ~ Romance
I don't even know what the heck romance is. Well, maybe I do. The funny thing about romance is it's an entirely personal matter. And there's two sides to the romantic equation. And what's being offered isn't always what's being received.
Let me expand a bit. If I gave someone a dozen roses...I would consider that a romantic gesture. If that person was allergic to roses or just didn't like flowers...my romantic gesture would not be appreciated. In the case of an allergy, I would end up causes the recipient to feel bad.
Romantic intentions. Causing someone else's soul to feel cared for...loved. When what is given is what is received (or even better...when what is received is felt more than what is given)...those are the moments we remember forever.
Since the topic is romance, I get to retreat to a place where I am remembering those moments that made me feel like I was on top of the world. And since this is my post, I want to share some of the moments that have stood out over time. The most romantic gestures for me.
~ As everyone knows, I love music. Love. A few times in my life, I've had a few songs written for / inspired by me. Having someone sing me a song they wrote for me...well that just melts my heart.
~One of my best memories is coming home and having rose petals spread out throughout the house. In a certain section...they spelled I LOVE YOU. It was awesome...except for the million ants that came into the house atop the rose petals. There was a mad dash to remove all the flowers and annihilate the unwelcome ants. Now, this could have been a case of an unappreciated gesture...but we laughed so hard that it became one of the best moments ever. It was the laughter...the contentment of sweeping away the ants...it was the unexpected gesture that made for great romance.
~Sitting atop a brick wall, sounds of seals in the background...and having a new love entrust me with his late fathers ring. It wasn't the ring that was what made my heart skip a beat, but the fact that he trusted me.
~Favorite all time first date gesture...I was brought a bottle of diet coke (since I wasn't a big drinker) and a can of whipped cream (just in case). I don't know why, but that one always sticks out in my head. And no, that whipped cream was not used...but it was nonetheless greatly appreciated.
~Unexpected sweet gestures. Getting a cup of coffee brought to you when you're working late (and the best is when they know how you take your coffee). Waking up on a cold day and finding that your love went to the garage to start the car for you and get the heater working before you left for work.
~My most recent favorite moment...when I was repaving my driveway and...while it was still wet...being brought a Batman symbol mold so I could imprint the wet cement with my beloved Batman.
So romance is what you make of it. Everyone sees things differently. What's romantic is finding that one thing that makes another person feel special.
Thank you Chris for the topic. By the way...for any readers out there...Chris LaVrar is an amazing freestyle rapper. He was featured this season on America's Got Talent. If you get a chance, check him out.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
An Alternate Universe
September 5, 2012
Topic suggested by: Jay Jadofsky...the positive effects of being a popular, well known KISS fan
OK...this is a funny topic. At least to me. But in thinking about it for a few hours, I keep recalling countless instances where being associated to KISS has enriched my life. I could probably write a book on the subject...not just a post. But I'll start with a post.
When Carol and I first went to a KISS concert together, my life forever changed. Our first show, we wore costumes (or what I perceived to be costumes). They were on a very amateur level. I hadn't caught the KISS bug yet (although I always enjoyed the music). I did say yet, right.
OK. How great is a KISS show? I mean, it's a production. There's blood. There's levitation. There's smoke. There's fire. And confetti. Lots and lots of confetti. From that day forward, I was obsessed.
Before our 3rd show together, Carol and I decided to take the costume thing to the next level. Costumes, signs, props. We had it all for our 3rd show. And that's where other people started to take notice of what we were doing.
Our 3rd and 4th shows were on a holiday weekend. We flew up to Northern California to see KISS. On the way to the airport...we came up with a name for ourselves...The KISS Army Vixens and created a MySpace page. In less than 48 hours we had over 1000 friends. I guess we got popular pretty quick.
Since we started this...my sewing skills and creativity has grown exponentially. I started viewing myself as not what I did for a living, but what I did for fun. I got over being shy (for the most part) and was able to talk to people. All people. I started writing. I started fantasizing. I had the courage to make some fantasies reality.
I also believe that the positive effects transcended outside myself. I use the KISS Army Vixen thing to do good. To help with Veterans causes dear to my heart. I've made friends with other KISS fans around the world. There is no doubt that creating the KISS Army Vixens deepened the friendship with me and Carol.
Being known in the KISS community means I have extended my inner circle. I have grown, thanks to all of the people that I have met along this journey. For all of this...I am incredibly grateful and very blessed.
And thank you Jay.
Topic suggested by: Jay Jadofsky...the positive effects of being a popular, well known KISS fan
OK...this is a funny topic. At least to me. But in thinking about it for a few hours, I keep recalling countless instances where being associated to KISS has enriched my life. I could probably write a book on the subject...not just a post. But I'll start with a post.
When Carol and I first went to a KISS concert together, my life forever changed. Our first show, we wore costumes (or what I perceived to be costumes). They were on a very amateur level. I hadn't caught the KISS bug yet (although I always enjoyed the music). I did say yet, right.
OK. How great is a KISS show? I mean, it's a production. There's blood. There's levitation. There's smoke. There's fire. And confetti. Lots and lots of confetti. From that day forward, I was obsessed.
Before our 3rd show together, Carol and I decided to take the costume thing to the next level. Costumes, signs, props. We had it all for our 3rd show. And that's where other people started to take notice of what we were doing.
Our 3rd and 4th shows were on a holiday weekend. We flew up to Northern California to see KISS. On the way to the airport...we came up with a name for ourselves...The KISS Army Vixens and created a MySpace page. In less than 48 hours we had over 1000 friends. I guess we got popular pretty quick.
Since we started this...my sewing skills and creativity has grown exponentially. I started viewing myself as not what I did for a living, but what I did for fun. I got over being shy (for the most part) and was able to talk to people. All people. I started writing. I started fantasizing. I had the courage to make some fantasies reality.
I also believe that the positive effects transcended outside myself. I use the KISS Army Vixen thing to do good. To help with Veterans causes dear to my heart. I've made friends with other KISS fans around the world. There is no doubt that creating the KISS Army Vixens deepened the friendship with me and Carol.
Being known in the KISS community means I have extended my inner circle. I have grown, thanks to all of the people that I have met along this journey. For all of this...I am incredibly grateful and very blessed.
And thank you Jay.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Grow Up. Grow Old.
September 4, 2012
Watches. Calendars. Wrinkles. Gray Hair.
These are all indications of time that has passed. Since I never married or had children I somehow managed to stay childlike. I didn't always see the seasons change. I didn't have a child growing up before my eyes. For me, it was different. The same time passed for me as for everyone else...but most of the time I feel like I haven't grown up at all.
I fight change. And embrace it. The older I get, the more I feel like going home. Metaphorically. Creating that inner circle of people I am blessed to share my time with. Having that special place to go.
I'm packing up the studio. This time it's for real. The Marina was home. I came here for college and never really left.
My final week.
I'm taking my safe place away. I'm removing the net and awaiting the fall.
Part of growing older is letting go of childish things. Of doing what's right even when I don't like it. Especially when I don't like it. Maybe these types of changes build character. I guess I'll firgure it out over time.
My word for today...yuck.
Watches. Calendars. Wrinkles. Gray Hair.
These are all indications of time that has passed. Since I never married or had children I somehow managed to stay childlike. I didn't always see the seasons change. I didn't have a child growing up before my eyes. For me, it was different. The same time passed for me as for everyone else...but most of the time I feel like I haven't grown up at all.
I fight change. And embrace it. The older I get, the more I feel like going home. Metaphorically. Creating that inner circle of people I am blessed to share my time with. Having that special place to go.
I'm packing up the studio. This time it's for real. The Marina was home. I came here for college and never really left.
My final week.
I'm taking my safe place away. I'm removing the net and awaiting the fall.
Part of growing older is letting go of childish things. Of doing what's right even when I don't like it. Especially when I don't like it. Maybe these types of changes build character. I guess I'll firgure it out over time.
My word for today...yuck.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Laborious Sentinments
September 3, 2012
Labor Day.
I've always looked forward to Labor Day. A three day weekend from work. An extra day to spend with friends and family. A day to go on hikes, or to the beach. A day for me.
Now that I no longer have a "traditional" job, this day means something different. Today I reflected on what labor means.
I have a habit of labeling others based on what they do. A person is an artist, a musician, an accountant, a doctor. In some instances, labeling a person by their occupation is an accurate representation of their inner picture. But for others, their jobs are merely affording them the ability to be who they really are when the work day is over.
For a big part of my life, I was living somewhere in the "in between". I was an accountant...but part of the reason I had my career was to afford me other opportunities in life.
Now I look inward and try to attach a label to my current labor. What do I do? Is it of value? How do I judge whether or not my efforts are valuable? On Labor Day, what activity should I stop doing if I'm truly taking the day off?
Labor Day 2012. I couldn't figure it out. I don't have a clue what my job is. I'm doing so many different things. I spent today reading, learning, socializing, writing, and taking care of my day to day responsibilities.
By next year...I want to have a clearer concept of what constitutes "labor" to me. I want to know what my label is. This ambiguity is stressing me out. And next Labor Day...I want to know what not to do.
Happy Labor Day. Hope I was alone in the perplexing nature of all that was today.
Labor Day.
I've always looked forward to Labor Day. A three day weekend from work. An extra day to spend with friends and family. A day to go on hikes, or to the beach. A day for me.
Now that I no longer have a "traditional" job, this day means something different. Today I reflected on what labor means.
I have a habit of labeling others based on what they do. A person is an artist, a musician, an accountant, a doctor. In some instances, labeling a person by their occupation is an accurate representation of their inner picture. But for others, their jobs are merely affording them the ability to be who they really are when the work day is over.
For a big part of my life, I was living somewhere in the "in between". I was an accountant...but part of the reason I had my career was to afford me other opportunities in life.
Now I look inward and try to attach a label to my current labor. What do I do? Is it of value? How do I judge whether or not my efforts are valuable? On Labor Day, what activity should I stop doing if I'm truly taking the day off?
Labor Day 2012. I couldn't figure it out. I don't have a clue what my job is. I'm doing so many different things. I spent today reading, learning, socializing, writing, and taking care of my day to day responsibilities.
By next year...I want to have a clearer concept of what constitutes "labor" to me. I want to know what my label is. This ambiguity is stressing me out. And next Labor Day...I want to know what not to do.
Happy Labor Day. Hope I was alone in the perplexing nature of all that was today.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Am I Really Starting Over?
September 1, 2012
Starting over. Is it really possible? Aren't I taking all the same old baggage with me on whatever new path I embark on? Is it possible to leave the bags in a storage locker and free myself from the weight of the past?
I'll always be an accountant. It's just how I see things. I look at the value of an item. I always have. I can't make the shift and see a "cherry yogurt" as just a plain old "cherry yogurt". For me...it always is a cherry yogurt I got on sale for $1.
I'll always carry the lessons from previous relationships and friendships. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
My parents voices will forever ring in my head. What I'm doing right. What I'm doing wrong.
I will always remember people's criticisms of what I do. I remember the criticisms far more often than any praise.
I'll always be afraid of failure.
And yet, I am embarking on a journey where I can't be an accountant anymore. I have to forget about all the lessons I've learned in the past as it's not fair to put a broad brush stroke on present and future endeavors. My parents fears for my life can no longer influence me. And most importantly...I need to brush off criticisms and not be afraid to fail on this new path.
How does anyone ever start over?
Starting over. Is it really possible? Aren't I taking all the same old baggage with me on whatever new path I embark on? Is it possible to leave the bags in a storage locker and free myself from the weight of the past?
I'll always be an accountant. It's just how I see things. I look at the value of an item. I always have. I can't make the shift and see a "cherry yogurt" as just a plain old "cherry yogurt". For me...it always is a cherry yogurt I got on sale for $1.
I'll always carry the lessons from previous relationships and friendships. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
My parents voices will forever ring in my head. What I'm doing right. What I'm doing wrong.
I will always remember people's criticisms of what I do. I remember the criticisms far more often than any praise.
I'll always be afraid of failure.
And yet, I am embarking on a journey where I can't be an accountant anymore. I have to forget about all the lessons I've learned in the past as it's not fair to put a broad brush stroke on present and future endeavors. My parents fears for my life can no longer influence me. And most importantly...I need to brush off criticisms and not be afraid to fail on this new path.
How does anyone ever start over?
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