Besides which you see…

I don’t know whether things have been busy or if I have just been uninspired, but the result is the same…no art, no writing, no blogging. And yet I have been in a good place. Money stinks, but my happiness is invaluable…and through the wonders of modern medicine and my loving husband’s support, I feel like I’ve become a happy, well-adjusted adult capable of participating in society. (Knock on wood.)

Anyway, you may remember me bitching and complaining about not being a part of a local theater production of The Sound of Music. True to life and the phrase “you can’t always get what you want (you get what you need),” I was cast in another production that I’ve become exceedingly excited about…Kiss me Kate! So I’m not sure as to my free time in the upcoming weeks. Thankfully I don’t run a popular blog… ^_~

In this particular production I get to star opposite said loving husband, which is about the coolest thing in the world. Stage magic is the best, and being able to share that with the person you love is really special…as well as stressful. Our lives have been consumed with lines, music, blocking and choreography. I wake up at night with songs stuck in my head, and at any given moment I am muttering my character’s dialogue. My commuting concerts in the car have turned into mini rehearsals.
But I am not complaining. Like I said, it’s the coolest thing in the world. But I am struggling with confidence. Confidence is this sexy, desirable trait…so naturally it’s one that I find elusive. Can obsessive compulsive and awkward be the new confident in 2017, please? Or do I really have to make a resolution to be more confident…? Is such a thing possible?

The fight for you is all I’ve ever known

I have a hard time letting go.

There was the Barbie that was my very favorite with big purple eyes. Because she was my favorite she was also my little sister’s (the highest form of flattery, they attempted to convince me) and my mom gave the doll to her — probably because I was getting “too old” to play with dolls… I haven’t forgotten about it, or my absolute RAGE.

I put nails in the driveway to try and flat tire my cousin out of going back home to Illinois. I had a really short sighted idea of how that would play out — that she would magically be made to stay forever because of a nail in a tire. Speaking of which, I forced myself to throw up and make a big scene at McCarren Airport in effort to keep my internet boyfriend with me just a little bit longer. And it worked. Back then they let you do things like hop on a later flight and sit with your loved ones at the terminal.

Sometimes lyrics inspire me. I liked this one…I put it at the top. I hope it inspires you. It prompted one more memory in me, but that one will forever be a secret. I promise it’s just as twisted, dark and weird.

It occurs to me that my bipolar diagnosis makes a lot of sense. Insert emoji happy/crying face.

watermelon muck

You know how you can get so miserable that you actually make yourself throw up to feel better? I’ve been trying to do that but with art…and apparently the science isn’t the same. When you stick your fingers down creativity’s throat, it’s not inspiration that comes up…just muck. And you don’t feel better about it.

Am I looking in a void or have I gone blind? Am I real or am I cycling?

I love watermelon. I had it for breakfast yesterday…but it made me sick. That’s never happened before. I’m sad about it for some reason…

of soups and songs

So I went to a local singer/songwriter’s festival and came home thinking “I could do that.” Kind of like when I thought I could be British after watching Spice World. I was a kid, but yeah.

Anyway. I did in fact write a poem that I intend to be song lyrics. And somehow, between my VERY limited, laughable knowledge of piano, guitar, and 4th grade recorder, I will write a song. I can sing, so in the very least I can make a melody and then force someone with more musical talent to assist me.

That, and the poem itself are works in progress, but here…

Broken Thoughts

Don’t you worry for me
I’m getting up, I’m going out
I’m functioning
Just a little armageddon stain about me

Back and broken
Put your lover to bed
Let the pill feed the spiders in her head
And if at morning
I’m not sorry and there’s
Darkness swallowing me whole
Don’t you worry
Let the pill lick away the sour in my soul

I’m going out, I’m looking in
I’m suffering
Ghosts and demons steal art and stories
In my dreams

Back and broken
Darling, put your lover to bed
Let the pill feed the spiders in her head
And if at morning
I’m not sorry and I’m
Melting into darkness after the bloodshed

Don’t you worry for me
Let the pill feed the spiders in her head

edit: this is obviously not a Top 40 kind of song.

Also, I recently had my lower braces put on along with a medieval torture device known as a bite plate. This is a plasticy sort of thing the size of a wad of Bubblicious gum behind my front teeth, keeping me from biting closed and actually touching my teeth. So I don’t eat anymore (exaggeration). Since I am a fat kid and do need delicious food, always, no exceptions…I made some soup!

Spinach and Goat Cheese Bisque

Adapted from an Eating well recipe

Ingredients

1 1/4 lbs fresh spinach
1 yukon gold potato, peeled and diced
2 yellow onions, diced
Olive oil
1 teaspoon dried thyme
Butter
3/4 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons marsala
4 cups vegetable broth
salt
pinch of cayenne
1/4th teaspoon nutmeg
4 ounces goat cheese

Directions

Get a tablespoon and one teaspoon of olive oil in a skillet and heat on medium. Throw in your onions and thyme and about a fourth teaspoon of salt and caramelize, stirring frequently and covering alternately for about 20 minutes. (the recipe does say to add 2 tablespoons of water when the onions just begin to brown to get this process going). Meanwhile, heat two cups of water in a pot and bring to boil. Add potato and cover, cooking 12-15 minutes or until soft. It was somewhere in here that I realized I wanted more fat in this soup and threw a couple teaspoons of butter in the pan with the onions. This is because I misread the original recipe, which does call for more butter later. Whatever, it came out fucking great. When  your onions are caramelized, add marsala and heavy cream and remove from heat. By now your potatoes should be about done. Add the onion mixture to your potato pot along with the vegetable broth, goat cheese and about two tablespoons of butter. Bring back to simmer, add all that spinach, cayenne, more salt if you want and nutmeg and cover for about 5 minutes to wilt the spinach but not cook it too much. Then remove from heat and use a blender or food processor or whatever you want to puree the whole thing. Enjoy!

Shit, I thought I had a picture but I just sat down and pigged out apparently… Sorry. this is a photo of the original recipe. They garnished with a toasted baguette round and more goat cheese, but I didn’t do that because bite plate.

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Painting. Pastels. Paper Mache.

Whew! This was a productive day off. I’m supposed to be taking it easy and not overstimulating myself and a bunch of baloney like that while I’m in uber crisis self repair mode. But! Instead I finished my Breast Cancer Awareness painting with a matte finish, which was a bit nerve wracking because I’ve never touched a finished painting with a wet product like that before! Exciting!

Also, I did some paper mache for the first time since elementary school. Hubby commissioned me to make a monkey’s paw prop for his upcoming show, because for some reason I thought I knew all about this. Turns out I’m doing a decent job though! I made a rough mold out of aluminum foil and then put the paper over that. I’m going to paint it and shape it a bit more, then add some craft fur. Pretty fun project!

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And then I did some art! Wow! I had another song stuck in my head that spoke to an ouch on my heart and I just had to get it out. This is acrylic and pastel on canvas… Thank you to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and their song “Maps” for the inspiration.

I also did some writing on a novel. Dun Dun Dun… I know. The dreaded novel… But this was a real novel I worked on, not a manic novel. And I’m taking it very slowly… It might not be released until the end of the century, but I’m still taking this as a triumph. Here is my tentative prologue…

Sailor loved cloudy skies. She tolerated the poky grass on her arms and legs as she laid and watched the gray giants soar over her, using their magic powers to transform into whatever they wanted. Today the sky was so full of them that she wondered if they were gathering for some purpose… Something important. Like a big assembly to hear God speak.

She wished that she could go too. All of Sailor’s teachers liked her and told her that she was very bright – she just knew that God would feel the same way. Maybe they were waiting for her.

The wind picked up. The clouds’ voices, they were raising until Sailor thought they were screaming urgently for her to come join them, to run! Quickly!

But then…

“Wow! Look at that!” It was Ramona. Sailor forgot that she was lying beside her. They were playing Lion King until they were exhausted chasing the other students at recess (it turned out to be much harder than they anticipated, down on all fours.)

“I see it!” Sailor cried.

It was the clouds. The crowd in the sky had parted. The air felt warmer as a single loose thread of sunlight fell from the opening and landed somewhere on the horizon. It let in all of the color that the clouds were hiding, and it danced in celebration to a tune that artists would surely have stuck in their heads all day.

“I’m going,” Sailor decided, and she popped up like a grasshopper.

“Huh? Where?” Ramona asked, baffled.

“To the light!” Sailor called over her shoulder, for she was already running in the direction of their small town, half minute miracle.

“Sailor! That could be millions of miles away!”

“So what?” Her tiny voice barely traveled with the barricade of howling wind separating them. But Ramona heard her.

She didn’t chase her. Ramona knew better. This was just one more adult thing that she knew more about than her friends, for she too was very bright. But she would always remember the anticipation she felt, watching Sailor run.