This is gonna sound crazy, but…have I told you how much I enjoy my writing style? Every bit as much as I have lack of confidence with my ART…..I have full confidence in my WRITTEN WORD. Yes. How, or why it is thus, I have no idea. Well, I sorta do. I figure it’s because I so wanted to be an artist. It was my lifes dream….to be an artist. But I wasn’t an artist. I was a writer. I was a writer. But why was I a writer?????? I was an artist too. I remember this. MY perfect mud ball, that rolled under the fridge at age 4-5 and I never got it back, the mud baskets, babies, mushrooms and elves. The drawing of the lilac trees and the baby in the barred box, possibly a playpen or a prison. Or the fish tank. Or the little framed piece….on foil, paint on foil, of a dead log with a baby bear and an owl on it.
Oh the money…I figured out the money!!! Funsey!!! When did funsey money become not so fun for lil ole Sheri??? Age 5. I’m standing at the bus stop with my little paten leather mickey mouse change purse and my brown bag of cookies….wearing a little dress. Standing with a friend I think. Then these other boys come. I’m going to the zoo today and am so very excited. I have cookies! The boys take my purse and they take my cookies!!! No. I was alone. I can’t be clear on whether or not they hurt me physically, and I’ve tried….but my next memory is of an apology and a bag of new cookies from their mom. But there. There you have my first money experience. Robbed at the busstop on my way to the zoo. And here I am, eating a huge cookie every night, while fretting over money while I create animals….for Noahs-arts….as in a zoo. I’ve come full circle. In that case, please let my intellect remain, but please free that 5 year old from the bars and chains that have held her prisoner under the lilac tree forever. Hmmmm….Mama getting a lesson. Must be quickening time again. …..oh……….I just heard this on a movie….You are my loyal servant, my wise master and my closest friend. Yes. I like this.
Remember now, back while I wanted so desperately to be an artist, I was writing poetry. Then, it was journaling. I crocheted blankets, made Christmas ornaments of bread dough and herbs, then later, sculpted with clay, mosaics, leather(early on for leather), beads, stained glass, wood burning, acrylic paint, water paint, oil paint, sculpey clay, knit, felt, spin yarn, designed and created awesome coat, blogs, yes….more than one, and now this….felted wool art. I’m not mentioning any of the childhood family crafts and I’m sure I’m forgetting some. I am telling both you and myself…my story. Analyzing how I came to be in this frame of mind. Frame. Frame. Important word for me right now. I remember in the movie…Dance with me…..she is explaining one of the dances, the waltz or something and she says….”you hold her…as if she is the picture and you are the frame.” Both…are the art. Master be student. Student be Master.
I’m starting to figure out my husband. He’s an introvert and an engineer, both are pretty vivid…but the way he is with his family, finally…the pieces fell in place. Well, sorta. I saw it. He relates to them….when it’s time. With hubby, everything has its time. This explains to me why he’s reacting to my illness in this way.(ignoring it)…..it wasn’t time. Not only was it NOT his idea, but it was NOT part of his schedule. His life…to do list. So he pretends it isn’t happening and does not contribute. Well, not a lot. A bit, lately, thank GOD. He kinda sorta made me, not really, agree to a chiro appt on ten dollar Tuesday. That’s tomorrow. Ya gotta do this before noon. I have no desire to wake up early but I just couldn’t seem to get out of it. Turns out….he was so adamant about it cuz he found out that at this time…all money from ten dollar Tuesday would go toward the front desk girl battling breast cancer, for her medical funds. This is how I was finally able to put the strings in place, straightened them out and got yarn out of it finally. (lol, ya, a metaphor)…is that the right word? It’s late! But hey. I started this whole piece of work by talking about being a writer, not an artist. I wonder what was it exactly…what words could have been so harsh. What set of words could cause a lifetime of disharmony of self. A split. A severing of self. The good the bad. The artist the writer. Was it words? There are places and pictures in my mind very dark. Why would these darknesses be there? One is a parking garage and one is a basement. Under age 7, after age 4. Anyways…hope you enjoyed tonights trip into myself. Spirit is so interesting. Well…night night. 12:27am = 3 = HOLY Trinity.
Ok…a day or two has gotten away from me. Still messing with the broke down car in New Mexico. Were we supposed to go there after all??? Anyways…she’s at Barb’s house right now. It’s a very primitive living situation there so the handy guy is gonna take her to the store so she can get a blanket and a cookpot. I’m concerned about her health. As you know, she is sick with an undiagnosed something, and she requires very very specific foods for her body to function properly. This has been going on for days now and she was unprepared. My sweet girl. In deference to her situation….since the whole reason she is in this predicament in the first place is to help earn money for me…well, and her, to be healed…..I am eating as best as I can. I ate leaves for lunch and chicken soup now…soup for lunch…. All the foods she made me…and the greens….I’m eating the greens…for her. Hubby seems unwilling to let the car go to pot……since he just put over a grand in it due to Jesse wrecking it and not telling anyone. This issue is also due to that unfortunate night. We drove it to DC and it most likely had the crack in the head gasket then. It’s all rather unfortunate. Summer is finally starting to show signs of the wear and tear of the trip. She’s so happy go sweetly…and is still able to laugh, thank GOD. I have words I’d like to say about this situation but I best keep my mouth shut. I knew she was stressed today when she typed….I’m only doing this so we can go….you are still going, aren’t you? Yes baby…I do still want to live and I want you to live too…and not just live…but I want you to live without pain….I lived with pain my whole life and I do NOT want that for you. I finally broke out the paints…..and would you believe…I still have canvas boards? It’s been around 8-10 years!!! God….my daughter has NO winter clothing with her!!! Ya…I’m concerned. Not worried…me, no way. Bad energy that. Ok. Later then. Sorry so disjointed and who knows how much sense ethe whole dang blog makes and who cares, I’m posting it anyway….cuz I’m hungry. Ha. Signing off at YeeHaw Ranch. Oh ya…it’s harder than I thought it would be…the acrylic painting. But it IS fun. Monk…what have you done to me? Sheri….what have you allowed monk to do? Night.