On a date with my little man:)
My Movie, Watching.
I’m like watching a movie. I am, inside my skin is like ~ Watching a movie. Some days.
I sit within and watch as this body moves throughout the day. Astounded actually, that it can drive and obey so many traffic laws. Remember names and the order of dressing. Which goes where? What does what?
Inside my movie.
On a day I watch, I am almost always calm. Just within and tired. Withdrawn and unable to say anything more.
My little son turned two and shortly after started going to pre-school a few mornings a week. He’s going to the same school his brother and sister went to. They are so happy to have me, us, there again. I am happy…I am happy.
It is so surreal.
The things she played with are still about the room. I bought her a Tigger sleeping bag for nap and yesterday, when we arrived, it was in the dress up room. Ready for the days make-believe.
I can now forget, for short moments, that she ever died. I can get lost, within my senses, and be picking her up. Do I start to worry that I am loosing my mind? Would you?
There are days that are so easy to be within. The hours fitting like stockings and the minutes the most delicious coffee. Moments where, somewhere deep within, you know you are just where you are meant to be.
Then there are the moments, of a life taken out of order, that displace you. There is, there IS, a natural order. There are orphans, people without parents. There are widows and widowers. There are names and words assigned to loss. And yet, what of the parents who bury their children?
Who are we?
We become something no one really wants to face. We become the average persons darkest fear. Walking, talking proof that is does happen.
I retreat to my movie, watching, some days. Because the rest of the world leaves me behind, as it worries about scratches on cars and grocery prices.
Then though, I dance out. More alive than the day before, after my rest, and I live. Live within and without and because.
There are moments, in a persons life, when you find out how people Really feel about you. Beautiful moments full of humble joy. Soul crushing moments of excruciating pain.
Moments where you know, from this day onward, life will not be the same. I will not walk back the way I came. The road is split. Our time has come. My time, here, where I got so comfortable I didn’t notice I had stopped progressing, is over. Over. It may even be a good thing…Good is so subjective. It is so intangible. If only we really could change the shade of our lenses and shift our perspective.
~ Oh, I see, upon putting on my rose colored glasses, that your love for me is pure. I shall commence growing old with you.
~ I am wearing my green lenses today and am swamped with jealousy.
~ Yellow, what would you bring me? I imagine that yellow may bring me a sensation of walking slowly, maybe I’d get tired. Or go to the snow.
Who knows what we would be if we could choose, really choose. Would we choose love over bitterness? Or is bitterness easier to live in? You can rely on it. As long as you are willing it will not leave you. Love, we all come to know, does ebb and flow and change. Alter as we do. Shift. Grow.
My daughter gave me a color I find I wear all the time. I’m not sure what color it is, exactly. It’s more of a feeling. A sensation I wear. A constant blond reminder that that, and that, oh! and that, are really not big deals. Blond, like her hair, that may be the color. It feels like the sun on my cheeks…my heart speeds up, sometimes, when it comes. Like a little Alarm. Look ~ That seems like such a big deal, but be calm gentle mama, it is nothing.
A passing thing.
At some point, every day, my body remembers it misses holding her. There is a moment, in every day, where a lump comes to me, calls to me and I think to her. With joy, with sadness, with every emotion ~ She is not here. I miss her.
Where has she gone? What is the magic within which she lives? As I type she sings in the wind, howling outside my door. She calls to me in the sun that tries so hard to break apart our spring rain. She is my light. My guide. The sound of my voice as I decide to take the harder path. When I choose to apologize to someone, knowing I am not wrong and they are not right, apologize because I value our relationship. Because she taught me, she painted my landscape, with what is important.
She painted grace in physical discomfort. She painted ease in fear. She taught me, daily, to fill my heart with gratitude. So lucky was I to have woken up to find her still there, day after day. She teaches me patience, she colors my life. She is in me, she is me. She became magic, an artist, an imp and joker. She lives with the great spirits, I know this. She is part of what feeds our souls when we are tired.
She has become a piece in the fabric of Faith.
The Daddy and I are taking our show to Oakland California!!
24x36” screenprint on 100lb cougar
Sid Vicious - Weapons of Choice
Blunt GraffixDead Rockstars Oakland
Spoke Art, April 2012Matt Dye
www.BluntGraffix.com
It’s All Been Too Much Lately
When does the day come when the half full cup tips over?
Maybe mine tipped.
It feels like there’s nothing left to wish upon, glancing to the bottom.
Where’s my reflection?
ART
I’m having a finger painting art party today. At my studio. With 2 year olds.
Mama feeling Brave!
