September 9, 2017

autobiography and creating...


I've had a few days away from blogging during this month's September blogging challenge as my energy has been taken up with weather and family and personal happenings.

As soon as it became obvious Hurricane Irma would mean evacuations for some of my family members - including my 88-year-old mother who lives in an assisted living facility on an island off the Atlantic coast - weather once again became a focus for me.

These days I give myself a lot of room, a lot of space, a lot of permission, a lot of grace, to release things, or back away from things, when that's what I need to do for my self-care, my joy, my well-being, and/or my life-stuff-happenings.

Before deciding to do the blogging challenge, I gave myself lots of gentle permission to skip days if needed, or stop altogether... just taking it day-by-day for myself. And that's what I'm doing.

Today I'm still texting and talking with family and friends who are in the path of, or being impacted by, the storm. I'm still keeping an eye on the weather news. I'm still wondering how our weather here will be effected. We don't get hurricanes where I live, but our weather can be impacted by them (with rain, high winds, tornadoes) and sometimes we'll end up with a tropical storm or tropical depression from a once-hurricane... and that's looking increasingly possible for us with Irma.

What's going on with the weather is very much on my mind and in my heart.

But I'm back to the blog (at least for today), and I'm posting something about today's nudge/prompt:

Share something you’ve created that feels like it’s a part of your autobiography.

There are several different things that fall into this category for me - things I've written, things I've painted, things I've made - but the first two things that immediately jumped to my mind are two particular paintings. I couldn't quickly find a photo of the full canvas for the first one (part of it can be seen as the header/graphic on the home page of my Subtle Harmony site), so I'm going to share a bit about the other one.

This one...



The photo was taken at the beginning of February 2015. Some of the painting was done in the weeks of January and first few days of February that year, but most of the many layers and components of the painting were painted in 2014 over a period that spanned much of that year.

That year was a year of dealing with the grief of my father's death in 2013, and the change and grief of my mother's move several hundred miles away and her entry into the world of an assisted living facility, and the grief of the changes in some family relationships.

That year was a year of a long physical recovery after a fall in January 2014 injured my right hand (and I'm right-handed) and my leg.

That year was a year of facing more losses-to-come as my beloved brother-in-law was diagnosed with terminal cancer. (He passed away 14 months ago.)

Painting, and especially painting on canvas as I stood in front of my table-top easel, was (as it continues to be) solace for me and joy for me... even though sometimes there were so many emotions and tears spilling from me that didn't exactly feel joyful. Still, though, painting was where I turned. Painting was one of the main things helping me keep myself together.

There was a period of time that year when I couldn't do much painting because of my hand injury. During that time, I tried to paint with my left hand, or tried to find some way to hold my brush for at least a little while, or sometimes just painted with my fingers.

It was a few months before I could actually wrap my fingers around a brush (or pen or pencil) again, but still I found a way to paint. And once my hand was recovered enough to hold objects like paintbrushes again, I painted more and more.

This painting is autobiographical for me because it encompasses all of that for me: the memories, the grief, the injury, the tears, the trying to heal (emotionally and physically), the processing of all the feelings, the trying to be okay in the midst of everything, the giving myself permission to paint just because I love it and no matter how it looks, and the wanting to believe that all will be well.

The paintings I do on the canvases at my table-top easel are intuitive paintings, and I just let myself do whatever comes. Whatever color seems to want to be painted. However and whichever way the brush (or my fingers or whatever) seem to want to move.

I don't paint at the canvas for the painting to look a certain way.

I paint at the canvas for the process of it, for the doing of it, and for joy of it (even if I'm releasing some tough emotions at the time).

This painting holds the energy of that time, that year, in my life. It holds my energy. It holds my tears and my hopes.

And that's why it feels like it's part of my autobiography.




(I'm blogging along with Effy this month! Want to join in? Just click here.)




September 3, 2017

passings, memories, and the soundtrack of life...


The first news I saw this morning was that Walter Becker, co-founder of the band Steely Dan, had died.

I've written before (a main example is in this post) about the power of music and memories.

And as I - and the singers and songwriters and musicians I grew up listening to - get older, and the years and the decades pass, there are more and more deaths of people who have been part of the soundtrack of my life.

In just the time between the beginning of 2016 and now, there have been several (not a complete list by any means):

Prince. George Michael. David Bowie. Maurice White. Leonard Cohen. Al Jarreau. Leon Russell. Glen Campbell. Paul Kantner. Gregg Allman.

And Glenn Frey.

I mention Glenn Frey separately because the music of the Eagles has been extra-huge in my life. And...  it was after watching the documentary History of the Eagles on Netflix shortly after Glenn's death in January 2016, that I felt compelled to finally do a final revision of one of my novels - In New Harmony - and publish it. (You can find it right here.)

Watching that documentary, which I've seen several times now, simply does something to my creativity, especially when it comes to writing fiction.

Watching that documentary makes me WANT to write - and, specifically, write fiction - so much that my fingers start to almost physically itch to do it.

Listening to Eagles music does something to me very similar to how I feel when I watch that documentary. For the past year and a half, I've come close several times to writing a blog post with the title "the Eagles are my spirit animal" (and I think I've even said those words, even hashtagged them, on instagram at some point) but as I wrote a couple of days ago, I simply haven't been blogging much the past couple of years, even when I've had the urge or the nudge.

Probably, though, I'll still write that blog post. I'm just not sure when.

Music is a muse for me.

And music is a memory-holder and time-traveller for me.

That's why when there's news like today's passing of Walter Becker, I feel an impact.

Steely Dan's music has definitely been part of my life's soundtrack. I'm 55, so the music of the 70s and 80s will always have a unique and special place in my heart and my memories, and Steely Dan songs are part of that for me: junior high and high school in the 70s, beach trips with my friends, going to see FM on a Friday night at the movies.

When I decided to post on facebook this morning with a link to a youtube video of a Steely Dan song, I had trouble deciding which song to choose. I finally decided on "Deacon Blues."

As I said in that facebook post: Someone else in the soundtrack of my life has passed. I always feel sadness along with the nostalgia... and I always feel so grateful for the music shared with the world.

RIP, Walter Becker and so many other song-makers.

And thank you for the music.






(I'm blogging along with Effy this month! Want to join in? Just click here.)




September 2, 2017

what I really want...


There are so many things I really want... World peace. Inner peace. Good and wonderful things for my loved ones. Joy. Happiness. Creative and spiritual connection.

But when it comes to a just-me-myself-and-I personal level, and if I break it down to one thing I really really want right now, it would be this:

I want to be healthy.

What used to be a once-in-awhile thing became, a couple of years ago, an almost-daily thing, which led to many doctor appointments and all sorts of tests (everything coming back normal), and is now apparently a chronic new-normal for me.

I mention it at times, usually referring to it as "my balance/equilibrium stuff", although it's sometimes much, much more than that. But very few people know how often and to what extent this impacts my life in big and small ways.

My ego accepting the use of a cane was a small thing. (Although I won't lie - it was a thing for me.)



Other stuff... Well, some of them are much bigger things.

I sometimes have trouble accepting these changes in my life, this change in my health, the way that I sometimes feel so awful, the way I sometimes have such trouble moving around or being able to do things I love to do.

And I sometimes especially have trouble accepting them with grace.

I rail and I fight and I pray.

Sometimes I sob in private with grief. Sometimes I yell at God with anger. Sometimes I tremble inside with fear at what might be ahead with my health.

And when I have days - or even minutes - of feeling well and good, or at least not feeling so bad... I'm so incredibly grateful I can't even describe the depth of it.

Gradually, I've been learning to accept my new-normal more, rail against it less, and make adjustments in my life to do as much as I can.

I find inspiration from people who deal with far more challenges and struggles, and do it with more grace than I often summon.

I continue to work on becoming healthier, and to maintain the health I have.

And if I could be truly healthy again? Yes, please. I really want that. 

But if it doesn't happen? Then I want to live as best I can, and I want to do it with grace.

It's a good bet that this is part of the reason embrace grace was the guiding phrase that came forward for me this year.

A reminder for me to open to receive grace.

A reminder for me to give grace to others.

A reminder for me to give grace to myself.




(I'm blogging along with Effy this month! Want to join in? Just click here.)




September 1, 2017

bloggin' along...


For quite a while, I've been in an in-between space, a time that's felt like waiting but also having a lot happening, a time that's been not-quite-sure or clear.

Blogging has been one of the things trapped by my time of in-between.

So often, I've wanted to return to blogging more regularly and consistently, to share my thoughts and my words online in a way I used to do so much.

And yet... so often, I've felt an inner need to be more quiet online, not only with blogging but in all online spaces.

But Effy is facilitating another blog along - and I decided to join in.

I participated in Effy's blog along back in 2013 and enjoyed it immensely, although I didn't blog every day... That month, my father's health failed at a faster rate, and later in the month the decision was made that it was time for hospice, and then he died on the 25th of that month. He passed away 4 years and 1 week ago, exactly, and it still sort of blows my mind that time has seemed to fly so fast since then and I'm not quite sure what I have to show for it.

Those blog posts from 2013 live in various places now... maybe one or two here at this space, a few on my Subtle Harmony site, most converted to draft status until I move them here, some only live now on my computer or personal files.

For the next year I continued to blog (although not every day or even every week) until the following summer when I did a personal month-long challenge of blogging with the theme of journeying with joy.

After that, I still blogged... but it became less and less often.

And the spaces where I blogged changed, as my site shifted from one place to another, and then split into two blogs which are (slowly) shifting again into one blog.

It sounds, and sometimes feels, confusing and unfocused. But where I "live" online is one of those uncertain things in my life. It's one of the things that feels like a waiting-time, a time of in-between.

I still have my Subtle Harmony site. I still have my Etsy. I still have this little blogging space right here.

I'm just not sure where I want to be with all of it at the moment - or even what (or whether) I want, when it comes to online.

I'm online less often in general than I used to be. One reason is an increasing need the past couple of years or so to pull back from social media and from the online world. Another reason is due to physical happenings that inter-relate with some eye stuff, and looking at computer or phone screens - or reading anything, for that matter, including books - can be difficult some days or can cause the problem to flare up at other times.

So I've been focused on more one-to-one, or in-the-flesh, or internal-with-me stuff.

I've focused a lot on my own creativity... writing and creative home-tending and paint-play.



I'm curious to see if I blog consistently during this blog along.

I'm curious to see what might happen between now and the end of the month.

I'm curious to see if returning to blogging more often will help me find more clarity.

I'm curious... and trying to rest and trust in this time of waiting and in-between.


(Want to join in on Effy's blog along this month? Just click here to see what it's all about!)