General practice

I finally went to see a GP doctor, for the first time in about 10 years. Usually I just go to an urgent care clinic if I need something – emergency medicine seems like the only thing western medicine gets right. This lovely older lady was my new doctor – I asked for female, totally sick of men – and she talked to me for a long time. In the end, she ended up prescribing me only vitamins and ritalin. I felt like I won. Even though I’m still struggling, everything is so much better now, and what great validation from a reliable source.

The ritalin is still sitting on the counter, days later. After all the horrible experiences I’ve had with pills doctors told me to take – I’m battling to take even one. FFS though I do miss the sleep I sometimes got when I was on it before. I’ve had a sleep disorder forever, so I didn’t know it was possible to sleep like that. It was glorious beyond belief, and I know stupid ritalin helped my brain feel like it got organized all file cabinet-like. Yet I’m still hesitating.

Speaking of holding patterns, the FF sent me a text and an email and I can’t read either of them. I feel fragile today and not up to any emotional shocks. Maybe if he showed up at my door with a bunch of flowers and beer and asked to hang out and talk, but it’s terrifying to deal with the impersonal technology while alone in my house. I might have to ask my friend to sit with me while I look. Sometimes adulting is effing difficult, and I’m so easily triggered into a full panic attack – that’s a residual struggle that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Tenderness – General Public
Try A Little Tenderness – The Commitments

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And done

After having a little crush for a few years, that crashed pretty quickly. I’ve got issues, but that dude has demons. It was too hard to talk to him too; I have such a hard time communicating in words, with words – my partner needs to be super patient like a saint and he certainly was no saint. Lmfao. Some of it was awesome wicked fun though.

I feel really sorry for him in a way; he’s been exposed to trauma and the extremes of humanity for so long. No wonder he’s into beating and shocking his partner. I’m so bummed about the whole thing though; I adored many aspects of his personality, but the “erotic” violence scares me and it turns out that he’s kind of a dick. I can’t help feeling like I was judged and found lacking and it hurts. Then again, I also feel like I dodged the bullet. I certainly don’t need an abusive partner, no matter how great the other parts of him appear to be. Ugh, dating is complete shit.

I’m No Angel – Gregg Allman

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Off the line

I could surrender more to the beautiful glory of electric engines if they only had the growl of a turbocharged internal combustion asphalt tearing muscle car. It’s that low rumble that gets right to my soul – and a few other parts. There’s a reason I get all excited on road trips, and only part of it is the destination. The journey can be sexy as hell.

My baby just rolled over to 230,000 miles. I’m so proud of her. There have been both zip ties and duct tape holding bits of her together at various times. I wish I could find a dependable and cheap mechanic to put a new engine in her, preferably with a turbo. Sleeper cars are the best – she looks well weathered but that would be amazeballs if she could beat something shiny and expensive off the line. Hilarious. The rumble would be even better under that modest hood, and God/Goddess/FSM/BSOC knows I would love sitting on a bunch of wild horsepower.

Tremble – Animotion
Shameless – Garth Brooks
Head On – Jesus and Mary Chain
Ladylike – Storm Large

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Brownian motion

I love to watch the movement of groups of people, especially on sidewalks. The interweaving of threads, the dance and sway as paths cross and part forever. It makes me feel more connected to the tapestry of humanity, like my thread has meaning and value. It took me a very long time to realize that it does. Even longer to realize that my thread is a little sparkly. And hard for some people to handle, for non-sparkly reasons.

At what point do I tell the wonderful new dude that I’ve battled mental health issues for a long time? He seems super compassionate and understanding, but I’m exhausted and terrified to even think about that whole conversation. Yeah, I got baggage, and not the trendy cute kind. I don’t know that I want to bring it up for a while – maybe if we date a year I will tell him about it. Since I already messed up by having (super hot) sex on the first date – damn he’s got amazing skills – it might be a moot point anyway. Like a couple of molecules spinning through the universal cup of tea, touching for a moment, and then lost in the reaches of space.

Much Too Young – Garth Brooks
Hard Lesson – The Burned

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The sweaty chemicals of happiness

Love Will Turn You Around – Kenny Rogers
What I Wouldn’t Do – Serena Ryder
Inside and Out – Feist
The Girl Gets Around – Sammy Hagar
Ain’t No Cure For Love – Leonard Cohen

I had to start with some music today, since I am creatively constipated. Nothing is coming out; I sit down to write and can barely remember what language I know. Part of the problem is that I’m trying to express things that I have never been able to find words for. It takes me a very long time to communicate exactly what I mean, and it’s even worse when I’m talking. Usually art helps, because I can express things in form and color instead. That’s why I created hundreds of paintings when I was experiencing emotional trauma – super therapeutic. Even better when people started buying them, but that’s another story. Now I can’t even paint anymore- and I can’t stand the paintings I finished recently, they’re terrible.

The words are dancing around and eluding me, and I’m trying to figure out how to confront the real issue that’s preventing me from actually sitting down to seriously write or paint. It’s stupid and brutal and I know exactly what it is, but calling it by name still doesn’t make it go away. Procrastination hasn’t worked either; now I have art and writing stuck in my head and when I do have time, I just sit and stare at my studio space, completely overwhelmed.

Clearly I need more exercise; working it out physically helps immensely. The sweaty chemicals of happiness, and toxins releasing from the body. I can think of a fun adult way to get sweaty and stimulate the muse; I guess we’ll see what potential there is to release that this weekend. That always helps me just let go. I do want to go slow with this amazing guy though; perhaps I’ve finally learned caution and patience. Somewhat. Then again, impetuous “great ideas” have had some interesting results in the past.


Oh What A Thrill – The Mavericks
Goodbye Is Forever – Arcadia



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Chances are

The firefighter is texting me – how funny. I love the honeymoon period, when you’re seeking the commonalities, the similarities, the ways to connect. Chances are that it won’t last, but the idea of it is wonderful. What normal woman doesn’t melt into a puddle in the presence of a firefighter? That strength and calm, the devotion to service, that big red truck – pretty fantastic.

My only fervent prayer is that none of them use their connections to run a background check on me. I know my past will haunt me forever, but it’s too soon to talk about my suicide attempts. Even worse is if he happens to know someone who responded to the call – those are awkward, horrible conversations that I don’t want to have yet.

For now I just want some fun conversation with a sweet man. After that last nightmare of a dude, it would be lovely to have some normal, adult conversation with someone interesting. It’s just a bonus that this one is so handsome and intelligent as well. Dreamy…no big deal that I got the date from an auction, it’s money way better spent than online dating, or sorting through the apathetic hipsters around here.

Dreaming – OMD

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The need for art

One of my favorite parts of the creative process is when you can’t wait to get up in the morning to see it. I love to examine how the now-dried paint has changed the feel of the paintings. The texture and color of  the design seen with a rested pair of eyes

I’m working on a series of three tiny paintings; it works best when I have multiple projects going at once, and I can bounce back and forth. The variety is like cross training for my creative brain. Art projects are wildly therapeutic- they extra help me with the messy and painful parts of life. At those times I especially love to read about other artists and what expressions they used to reflect the human experience.

It’s so valuable for society to have art;  what miraculous things humans can create… and everything that’s ever been created by humans was once just an idea floating around in someone’s brain. I just wish more of the creations were for humans doing fantastic things, and less destruction.

Politics are not my favorite thing to talk about; but as a single, childless, female writer/artist, I’m revolted by our current administration. How awful to have more creepy old white guys pretending to lead us, while they dismantle and destroy the very fabric of our society. They have gone mad with power and greed.  What’s the point of fighting, if we don’t have the beautiful natural world, and the beautiful creations that humans come up with? Is there really that much money and satisfaction in war and divisiveness? We can do so much better.

Quote of the year: “Don’t build a wall, build a deck and invite everybody.”

Waiting for a Light That Never Comes – Linkin Park
Beethoven’s 9th
Collide – Howie Day
Baby Likes to Rock It – The Tractors

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A pathway of letters shooting out into space and finding their way to you

One post in particular that I wrote keeps getting read over and over. It’s not one that I expected, but I like it. I doubt it’s getting read by who it was meant for, but really – what ever works out like we hope? As a writer, it’s pretty glorious to have a wide open forum to talk about anything I can imagine, and I’m delighted and grateful that I have readers at all. There’s not much I can do about who reads it, or when, or how often. Holy crap I am wildly curious though. And oh yes, I do wish. Blame it on the dreamy romantic idealism of a writer.

Yeah, I know reality will constantly give me hard lessons in what is more likely to happen. I got all kinds of stories about that. But it’s the happy ending fun adventure kind of stories that the world needs more of.

Seven Year Ache – Rosanne Cash
Hard Lesson – The Burned
Light You Up – Shawn Mullins
The Way To Your Heart – Soul Sister



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Steam whistles in the night


My weekend was pretty quiet, so I headed down to the Oregon Rail Heritage Center. I thought a few pictures of cool trains would perk me up. My favorite is the photo of a black and white photo of a train pulled into the railroad station. I’ve had dreams that look exactly like that, it was like seeing a memory.

The smells of the center, the beautiful curves and sleek design of the rail cars made me think of steam engines and that long, haunting steam whistle that pierces the night. Couples parted forever, or the wild elation and bitter sorrows that can be found at any train station in the world.


Fast Movin’ Train – Restless Heart
Du Hast – Rammstein
All Is Forgiven – Siren

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Never over you

I’ve been reading a lot lately, from a constantly changing stack of books from the library, added to my own decent stacks. They give me solace like few other things in this world. Words from brilliant but long-dead authors, illuminating struggles now lost to time. They help bring understanding and a wider view of the strange and alarming current world events.

Currently I’m reading a fascinating biography of the Mitford family. I just finished a wild romp through Caravaggio’s life – now totally obsessed with needing to go see some of his works in person. Instead of watching tv last night, I read about a bunch of more adventurous local hikes, and 100 Photographs That Changed The World. The flip of pages, the hefty weight of pages of wonderful storytelling; I fall in love over and over.

Next up is a re-read of the engineering techniques for building immense sand castles, and a large volume comfortingly titled When All Hell Breaks Loose– because you never know when I might need those skills. Waiting patiently are piles of other books, teasing me with their stores of humor, knowledge, wisdom, and strategies for managing this messy human life.

What Kind of Love – Rodney Crowell
Never Gonna Give You Up – Rick Astley

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