january 19, 2010

not today
Current mood: exhausted


illusions. well organized, magnificent, beautiful tricks.

but not today.

trompe l'eoil, french for tricks the eye. it is a technique used by artists to convey the illusion of three dimensional objects by way of two dimensional painting. but more so, it's a way to trick the eye into seeing something that isn't there. it's a fascinating art form and a talent i haven't tapped. my perspective and depth of field has always been skewed. i take liberties and adhering to strict rules of scales and perspective don't flow well with my organic style.

underneath these beautiful masterpieces, it's just another canvas. some people use buildings, walls, sidewalks, body painting. anything can be a canvas. sometimes it's an ugly canvas at that. a dumpster, dirty sidewalk pavers, a condemned building. just another flat surface, no texture, no color. simply put, it's empty. some people look at it as a clean slate, creating something beautiful where there was nothing. you can make it anything you want. you can go so far as to create something three dimensional. a beautiful trick. a trick of the eye.

but not today.

to me, today just isn't one of those days. instead, i see an empty hole and i can't fill it. i have something in me dark, damp, raging. i taste it, smell it, feel it in my fingernails. it's maliable and growing. it's feeding itself with it's negativity. it is hungry and i am feeding it milk and cookies. i have grown tired, worn, bloated. my eyes are dark, my hair is lackluster, my skin is raw and red. i want this beating to stop but i appear to be the one swinging. i am unable to perform my illusion. instead, i am blank. no illusion, no beauty, simply an empty canvas. and i have no idea what to do with it. maybe tomorrow.....

but definitely not today.

some incredible, random examples of trompe l'oeil.....

these fascinate me. all body art, all exquisite...

january 15, 2010

the very hungry caterpillar

Current mood: quiet


there was a very hungry caterpillar....

it started with a handful of almonds but turned into an entire pan of cinnamon rolls, a block of sharp cheddar cheese, an apple (an apple a day keeps the doctor away), three bowls of cereal with skim milk, half a bag of fritos, 1 pint of haagen daaz creme brullee ice cream, roughly half a jar of green olives, a king size bag of m&m's (found by sheer luck) and one ice cold beer.

and then she was a very fat caterpillar and she wasn't hungry anymore. in reality, she wasn't really hungry to begin with...at least not for food. honestly, she felt empty and stuffed at the same time.

but when disaster hit my life this week, the above is precisely what manifested. all the stress, all the hurt, the exhaustion, the anger, the uneasy feelings came over me and they boiled down to a heaping pile of random foods. and every bit of it went into and out of my mouth in roughly a 3 hour period one night. yes, i made myself vomit, harkening back to my days of bulimia, but i didn't do it until much later. back in the day, i would binge and immediately purge. instead, i purged out of sheer discomfort. i couldn't move without feeling like i was going to get sick anyway so i figured i would help it along. so disgusting and i don't recommend ever trying it.

it had me thinking. i went to an OA meeting one time many, many years ago...overeaters anonymous. it's a group based on the same principals of AA, NA and other 12 step programs. but this one is for people who have trouble "controlling" themselves around food. for me, it was a last resort. it was before i admitted that my issues with food were emotionally fueled. well, the meeting was surreal and not at all helpful. instead of being a supportive group, it is a group of people who are scared of food, and scared of themselves.

i have always believe that a "healthy" relationship with food was an attainable one for me. granted, what i have now is a destructive give and take but i look at it as temporary, something to overcome. but these folks, no way. they believe that you will never have a good relationship with food, it is your enemy and you must, absolutely must, stay in control of what and how you eat at all times or you will fall off the wagon. i mean, there are people in this meeting that hadn't eaten a bite of cake in 20 years because they were scared they would "fail". these people used the word fail when talking about their relationship with food? this isn't a pass/fail situation. that's not a relationship. that's an irrational fear.

well, this girl isn't afraid of food. in fact, i embrace my relationship with food. granted, it's not the relationship i want. it's entirely self destructive and abusive. but i'm not scared of it just the same way i'm not scared of myself anymore...well, most of the time. i'm not ashamed of my binges. i'm not embarassed to say that it is my crutch, my go to when the rest of the world leaves me reeling. but to think that i will never have a good relationship with something that is suppose to nourish my body? that just isn't realistic either.

so there has to be a middle ground. where the rest of the people in the world sit quietly, enjoying their meal and know when to say *when*. i can't deny that i'm envious of my friends and family who simply push away their plate and say "no thank you, i'm full". and i'm especially awestruck by folks that eat only when they are hungry, don't run to the pantry because they've had a bad day. suppose it's better than drugs or alcohol but this could kill me just as easily. the fact of the matter is that i may never be one of those people. but to simply resign yourself to never eat another bite of cake, no thank you. it is not my mortal enemy. i just need to figure out how to stop making it my best friend.

i'm going to chalk this binge up to another learning experience. a physically painful and unpleasant one...i forgot how much i loathe making myself vomit. yuck. but it has shown me that i'm still vulnerable, more so now than ever. that i am far from perfect. but that i'm also able to put it behind me, wake up tomorrow and make it through with a renewed sense of purpose minus the entire contents of the fridge. someday i hope to no longer be the hungry caterpillar or the very fat caterpillar but instead grow some damned wings.

january 13, 2010

is that a #2 pencil or are you just happy to see me?

Current mood: busy

feel i have to explain the title quickly. this was one of my favorite things to say to boys back in high school to see how they would handle the pressure. if they laughed, right on. if they panic, see ya. if they responded with "why don't you reach in and find out", well, then i had a new boyfriend. such a brazen hussy. but you'll see why i used this title in a minute. i don't even know where to start. so i'll start at the beginning and will attempt to make a complicated situation less so....

monday:

met with attorney. was told that i'm in serious shit. shouldn't have moved out of the house. gave up rights to alimony by doing such. cannot split the time with the kids 50/50 because then mark doesn't have to pay me a dime in child support and he likely knows this, thus leading to his demanding that our time is a 50/50 arrangement...no wonder he was so adament. have to change custody arrangement so i have the kids the majority of the time (very cool with me since i'm with them constantly and love being with the little rugrats). however, i know to get ready to fight mark on the custody and it won't be pretty. here's the kicker. in order to get temporary "rehabilitative alimony" so i can earn a decent living, since i don't have a college degree, established career and i don't qualify for permanent alimony.....

I HAVE TO GO BACK TO COLLEGE FULL TIME ASAP!!!!!

excuse me while i go change my pants because i just shit all over myself.

are you fucking kidding me??? so not only have i screwed the pooch (the pooch being yours truly) by not demanding that he leave the house and i stay, but i have also fucked myself out of child support unless i do something quickly and i have to go to school while dealing with all of this bullshit?

now all of this came as quite a shock to me, to say the least, and i was left with raw wounds to lick for the past few evenings. thankfully, and i do mean this will the utmost sincerity, i have some seriously kick ass friends, incredible little mini-me's and a super cool family. not to mention switch who has been at my beckon call carefully advising, constantly supporting and without question just being a great listener.

so i carefully draft an email to mark detailing the fact that i want the kids the majority of the time. honestly, i was being nice doing the 50/50 split because he is a great father. however, the distance the kids feel on the evenings during the week that he has them is taking its toll already. it's sad and my heart breaks when i see the look on abby's face when she has to go back to sleep at daddy's just to be dropped back off here a few hours later. it's just too much for my sweet little girl right now and my motherly, must protect the young, instinct has kicked into full gear. i want my children as much as i have ever had time with them and that's final.

needless to say, he didn't take it well. in fact, he was threatening, confrontational, mean and he even called my mommy to tell on me. claims that i am not being reasonable so this grown man of 40 years picks up the phone and calls my mother to complain about me. seriously. the guy has lost his fucking marbles. and he's done it before too. does he expect my mom will change his diaper too? wow.

and with all of this happening, 2 kids to care for, a new home to establish, an old one to clear out, finding a job, paying bills, keeping my sanity and now, on top of it all, i have to go back to school. well now, it just can't get any more ridiculous now can it?

so i picked myself up, with a whole lot of help, dusted myself off and moved forward. today was good. i went down to the local community college, got re-enrolled in college classes and i'm ready. ready for what is another question. i'm undecided as to what i want to pursue after an aa degree but for now, that's all i can think about. getting my aa, being a full time student while i raise my children, fight the fucktard so that he supports me while i get back on my feet, try and be a decent human being without being walked all over and coming away with as few scars as humanly possible.

so i will get out my pencil sharpener, find the old #2's and see if i can't score some points in my favor. back to school at 37. never in a million years would have predicted this one! now is that a #2 pencil or are you just happy to see me? wonder if that line still works?

january 9, 2010

portrait of a portrait

Current mood: luminous

my daughter will be 9 in april and she is starting to show signs of more mature interests. instead of playing all the time, she wants to read. explore new ideas, create. she is still a very innocent 3rd grader but is aware of her body, changes that will be coming in the next few years. i am in complete denial and continue to try and convince myself that she will never wear high heels or makeup and don't even talk to me about sex. ugggg.....think my heart just broke a bit!

so the subject of makeup comes up the other day. being like any curious little girl, she wanted to experiment with makeup on none other than yours truly. i remember doing it to my mom too and wondering just how much blue eye shadow i could cake onto her lids. it's sort of a rite of passage for girls and their moms, or at least in my family it was.

now the kids has some general artistic ability by default simply because of my gene pool but i was pleasantly surprised to see how well she did with my makeup. now if i had stepped foot outside of the house, someone would have asked me "how much for a half and half?" but alas, we stayed put, prostitution was not solicited and we had a great time giggling and putting on makeup. she got me all dolled up (although i did do some minor modifications before photos) and i got her all dolled up. then it was washing of the faces and time for bed. i had so much fun with my little munchkin.

and when we were finished she said, "mommy, you are so beautiful. i look a lot like you so i'm beautiful too. we are beautiful together." yep, i melted. with those sweet little, honest, sincere words, she made me feel like the most stunningly beautiful woman in the whole wide world. i have never thought of myself as being so. in fact, i have never liked much about my face at all, with the exception of my full lips. but otherwise, my nose has always been too big and is now crooked from being broken, my face too round, eyes too close together, the list continues.

after she was in bed, i decided it was a good time to shoot a new self portrait. i had gotten into a habit of doing them everytime something new happened in my life but this was the first time i had a chance since moving into the new place. and i have to say, i think the kid did some good work on old mom here. if you had seen it in color, well, i looked a bit clownish but for black and whites, perfect. maybe i should wear makeup more often, just not as much?

so even though i don't always feel it, and the majority of the time i don't, my baby girl thinks i'm beautiful. and well, that's enough for me.

january 9, 2010

how does it look there?

Current mood: accomplished

so in all the craziness that has ensued over the last few weeks, i have been especially thankful for so many things and people who have helped me. but it's peculiar that through all of this transition, i have not been thankful for all the little comforts that this new life is affording me. suppose it's the hectic pace of life around here. taking care of kids, figuring out a schedule, dealing with fucktard on a daily basis. even hanging pictures on the wall is a large task for me right now. decisions, decisions, decisions.

but that's the really cool part. they are my decisions. nobody else. i can have a spoon full of peanut butter, walk around in my jamas, go to bed early or stay up all night. these things might seem regular fodder for other marriages but i was constantly scrutinized, questioned, doubted for every move i made. i have to say, this freedom to just be me is exactly what i needed and i don't doubt this decision one bit!

i had time yesterday at the apartment with, well, what can i call him? i'm tired of calling him "my love", "the other man", "the affair i am having", blah blah blah. executive decision time. i have decided to call him....switch (he used to yell SWITCH as loud as he could right in my face during high school. he's since grown out of the bizarre ritual but it still reminds me of him) suppose i could just call him my boyfriend but that's so boring. nope.

switch. i like it!

so switch comes over, we hang out for a bit, i had to send an email and he was left to amuse himself. never leave an artisitic, architect, mechanic, tinkerer to daydream about where to hang things in your house. suddenly he'll get a pensive look and you just know the wheels are turning. so after a little discussion about proper placement of photos, proportion, levels and visual impact, he gave me some ideas. good ideas.

it was right then that i realized that he has his opinions. i have my opinions. if we lived under the same roof, compromise and discussion would come into play. i value his opinion. i value him. i value the respect that he gives me in return. but when it comes right down to it, i don't have to hang my art in any other way than the way that i see fit. and you know what, he is perfectly fine with that. granted, it was a nice discussion, nothing uncomfortable. he wasn't trying to sway my opinion. he was simply voicing his own. and you know what....it was ok to voice mine in return. that is huge for me.

for so many years, i decided that it just wasn't worth the fight to give my opinion. on big things, i would speak up but i was never heard. hell, even the exterior color of our house was decided by mark, without even listening to me. mark would always win by default because i simply gave up. i gave up and didn't express my opinion because it wasn't worth the trouble in return. but now. wow. it was a turning point for me yesterday.

i realized that i am me. nobody else. yes, i am in fact switch's girlfriend, my parents' daughter, my childrens' mother, my fucktards soon to be ex-wife, but i am just a person. a person who can make decisions. i can trust myself. someone once said that as soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live. don't remember who it was but i'm sure you can google it. and it's true.

so in essence i will hang my art where i like, i will eat and drink and play as i want to, i will love the way that i want to and deserve. because i don't have to become something that i am not. i do not have to agree and that's just fine with him. and even if it weren't, i still wouldn't give up. nope. that girl is long gone.

but should a time come where i do again share a living space, i will be open for discussion. especially with switch old boy. because there is a mutual respect, a mutual love, a mutual fondness for each other and our varying opinions on, well, everything. we have many similarities but the things that are unique about each of us are just that...unique in every way. and i don't ever want that to change.

january 6, 2010

The Black Hole

Current mood: determined


A bump in the road?

Nope, more like a fucking enormous black hole that is about to suck me in and take my shoes. Don’t care much for shoes anyway but these are my birks and we all know this granola lives for her German made natural cork foot beds. Damn, they are ugly but they make my feet so happy and shiny!

I am not someone to toot my own horn. Quite the contrary. I am in every sense of the word my own worst enemy. I find something fundamentally “broken” about me and breaking free from that mindset is taking a lot of work. Hell, I have a fantastic man in my life who loves the real me, fat rolls and stretch marks included, and I find myself asking questions like “why does he love me”, “he deserves someone better, cuter, skinnier, funnier, smarter”. It’s a vicious cycle but I’m ending it. The progress is there and I feel loved and accepted. It‘s really a lovely feeling. What was my point again?

Oh yeah, the tooting of the horn.

I will give myself some credit here. I have successfully moved away from a relationship that puts the “dys” in dysfunctional (always wanted to use that cliché). I have kept my cool, even when being inundated with bullshit, trivial, absurd question and answer sessions on a daily basis. Why did you spend this? Do you think I’m made of money? Oh, you’re taking that painting from the house too? Did you call this person, change this address, what, where, why, when, who? Shit, go ahead and ask me if I wiped my ass today. I’m sure I didn’t do that to your liking either. Damn, he drives me up a wall with the condescending tone and general disapproval of my decisions.

On top of the daily stress of dealing with the fun sucker that is my husband, I am unpacking a home that includes two young children, putting together bunk beds alone (and almost killing myself), moving one box at a time since the prick only helped with the “big” items. And to make it worse, we just finished Christmas and it all needs to be boxed up and put away and so do all the toys that are included in the gift giving season. Merry fucking Christmas! I have done everything on my own, but that’s nothing new. Hence, the end of my marriage.

Meanwhile, I am taking the kids to school, putting on a happy face for them and continuing to be a nurturing, fun loving, free spirited mom, friend, daughter and all around pretty good person. I’ve shown hairline cracks along the way via some conversations that involved a louder than normal voice, calling of names, some crying, some laughing, more crying, hard, deep crying from the gut. It’s tough. It’s really fucking tough. But I have successfully kept my shit together. I am far stronger than I give myself credit and am really proud of myself for seeing this through.

But tonight for some reason, I am vulnerable. Reality is hitting me in the face and I feel like it was Tyson doing the punching. And what the hell happened to my ear? It was there just a minute ago.

What I mean to say is that this tough exterior that appears to be unflappable is coming apart. I am doing my best to patch the holes, seal the cracks, repair the failing foundation and hoping like hell that this renovation goes smoothly. But I am a mere mortal and incapable of doing everything, all the time, and not show the stress that is bubbling under the surface.

I will not fail. I will not turn around. I will continue to move forward. This is the first of many times when I will feel out of control, misjudged, disrespected and frankly, it is par for the course. My depression will come and go as it always does and I’ll be just fine in the end. Marriage isn’t easy and neither is divorce. It’s just that sometimes one is a clearer choice than the other. This is one of those times.

So this black hole. Fucking black hole that is about to open beneath me. Well, you can take my birks, take my ruby slippers, take all the shoes you can get your black hole sucking mouth around and leave me alone. You can take my shoes but that doesn’t mean I won’t still be standing. I‘ll still be walking down to the corner for a pint and the company of friends. Barefoot. With blisters, shards of glass and dirt under my nails. But you can’t make me sit down.

Take that you black hole mother fucker!

january 3, 2010

sixty nine...get your head out of the gutter you dirty birds!

Current mood: rockin

As I sit here writing this blog, I am reminded that it was just a few short months ago that I started to open myself up again to the blogosphere. Sixty eight. Sixty eight posts since early august. And I have lots of personal shit I keep to myself too! I have never given the proper time to writing down my thoughts, my life, the way I see things, until right now. And now I can't stop. Damn addictive blog bullshit. Seriously.....

So post number sixty nine is quite a daunting task. it does give me a great deal of pleasure that the connotation of the number "sixty nine" is sexual (and fun!), dirty, silly and makes me sound like beavis and butthead because I chuckle just saying it. Huh-huh, sixty nine…gonna have to add this to my repertoire this year. Ooo, I think this is my first new year’s resolution!

So, not only is it the first blog of the New Year but it is also the close of a chapter in my life. I have grown. The sound of my own voice now is deafening. I find that I am in a state of constant motion, never stopping, and no looking back. And yet I feel that I need to look back before I look forward. Take the lessons for face value and push forward.

I have gone from discontent, misunderstood and feeling lost to having a pretty good idea of where I’m heading. I’ve had some lovely bar-bee-que along the way, a few drunken escapades, marriage counseling, personal therapy, an updated tattoo that rocks, ups and downs, substantial crying followed by serious soul searching, some good photography, a rebirth of my creative spirit, all peppered with great friends and family. I finally demanded an end to this dead end marriage. I made the decision to move out of a house I love for a place that I can finally call home.

I have learned who stands by me no matter, who believes in me, how to believe in myself again. I have had diets, binges, tons of great fucking sex (this one makes me a very happy girl). I have explored the depth of the love I hold for my kids. I have chosen to give them a better understanding of what life can hold for them. That all things are possible. Just watch mommy do it!

I am energized, refocused, scared like a mother fucker, could shit in my pants at the thought of having to find a job and finally serving my prick of a husband with divorce papers. I have no idea where I’ll be in a year. With photography, graphic design, teaching, reconnecting with my inner hippy and beer loving wench that I am deep down. Well, the possibilities have my head swirling in a great way. All the while I’m thankful, blessed, even when it's rough. I have space to move and I feel like filling this fucker up with all sorts of great things.

To sweeten the pot, I am madly, deeply in love with an unlikely hero. He’s genuine, his love for me is pure and I don’t doubt his honesty or integrity. Truly a one of a kind person all around. I would go so far as to say that he’s the real deal. He once said that he has “nothing”, but he would risk it all for me but that if he had everything, he would still feel the same. Incredibly simple and beautiful, just like him. Yeah, I think he’s a keeper.

I’m reminded of the often commercialized mandala symbol. A full circle, contemplation from beginning to end. It is used to represent chakras, spiritual energy, and focus. You know all that hippy dippy ass bullshit that I do love so much. I know…you can’t take the birks off this girl, no matter how hard you try! And although I am acutely aware that this is nowhere near the end of this journey, mind you it is really just the beginning, I do feel like I have shed some skin along the way and it feels really fucking good.

Wonder if they have a “sixty nine” mandala symbol…I feel a new tattoo coming on!