Pickalilly

Posted on Monday, 26 May, 2008 by Rosa

Pickalily

I hope Greenwoman doesn’t mind too much about using the lily and the CnP job. *wink*

It’s been a short week….at least work wise. I’ve switched to 4, 10 hour days and it’s been a bit difficult getting used to. Thank goodness I had a 4 day weekend last week and this weekend as well. Because of the holiday and the fact that I have off Saturday, Sunday and Monday, I have Tuesday off as my Holiday. Nice because I’m heading to the North Shore after sunrise beach time and it won’t be crowed at all.

I received a bit of bad news yesterday. One of my wayward sons…..I have 4….my oldest sons best friends…Ian, Justy, Jeff and Dillon…..Justy was with his beloved when she died yesterday. A severe headache Friday gave way to a trip to the hospital that night…she slipped into a coma Saturday and died Sunday. They just bought a house in Port Angeles where he is being restationed, all their stuff is in route, and Justy had a ring in his pocket for their arrival at their new home. My son is flying to the funeral in Houston tomorrow. Wayward one Ian and his wife were en route from Colorado to Houston last night. Ian will go with Justy to Port Angeles. My oldest will join them there in a week to help unpack and repack his beloveds belongings for shipment back to her folks house in Houston. My heart hurts for him. I’ve sent hugs and Love with the Boys to take to him…It’s all I can do right now….I’m proud of the boys for being so willing and able to drop everything they tend, and care for Justy so competently and with such Love.  And then they all turn around to vacation here mid June. I so wish Justy was coming….especially now. Ahhh…maybe it’s best…he’ll be immersing himself in work…perhaps they will get him out to sea. He’ll need the diversion.

My muse called last night. He’s vacationing on the West Slope (of Colorado) with his children and his family/folks. Honestly, didn’t think I’d hear from him at all. Wasn’t planning on catching up until Tuesday afternoon. I was really touched he thought of me. And it was an delight to hear about his 4 year old sitting on Grandpa’s lap helping drive the farm tractor and bucket loader. Boys and their toys. *wink* And I needed to be able to share my sadness about Justy.

I spent some time having fun with a friend this weekend. Wonderful being able to connect as friends again. Friendships are a HeartSong for me. *smile* I’ve had to do a lot of work on this one over the past 2 years about finding a place of acceptance for not being able to nurture the friendship the way I want. And not to walk away from it all in petty selfishness.

My youngest wrote me last week about coming to live here. And while I would have him….I’m not near ready to move and there is no space for him. And hesitant because I know he was running away. Trouble is there is less safety here then there. Because I would kick him out in a heartbeat for being lazy. I won’t support him. When I talked to girl child yesterday about Justy, I also found out that a guy friend kicked him in the ass about his attitude and not finding a job. Shit he blew off an application process because he was playing on the computer. Looks like that all might be taken care of now. We’ll see but I’m hopeful. So down the line if he comes….well I feel a bit better about it. But he needs direction right now and lessons on Mastery. Sometimes these things are more helpful not coming from Mom or Dad or Big Brother or Big Sister.

Well, enough rambling or I’ll never get this started, or finished. *laughs*

Imagination Prompt

Name some things you are thankful for.

My lovely children

Loving friends

My Creativity

Meditation

Message from the bushes of my heart:

We are but a blip in the continuum. Breathe. BE Life and BE Love.

****************************************

Mood: Calm

Tea: 100% Kona Coffee, heehee

Munching: A Juicy Mango

Song: no music other than the gurgling of the fish thanks

************************************

Stuff on my mind this week:

My kids visiting in 2 weeks

My friend who had a breakup with his partner

Work stuff

My living situation

The grief of/for my wayward son, Justy

**************************************

Friday’s Feast

Appetizer

What is the nearest big city to your home?

Honolulu. A few miles.

Soup

On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how well do you keep secrets?

I would say 9-10. Sometimes I forget and slip, but not often.

Salad

Describe your hair (color, texture, length).

Right now it’s a platinum blond. I started dying my hair about 3 years ago. First dark brown with red highlights-close to my natural color, then frosted to cover the gray, then progressively lighter brown. When I moved to Hawaii, various shades of blond. I’m about 80% gray now and why should I keep it that way? Hell, it’s only hair. I keep it a bit over shoulder length, parted on the side, longs bangs. With the humidity here it’s out of control waves and curls.

Main Course

What kind of driver are you? Courteous? Aggressive? Slow?

I drive defensively but I am very courteous. It just doesn’t do any good to get worked up over it all. I get where I’m going every single time. Imagine that! *grin* I am slower here with driving. Hell just can’t get away with the speed in such a tiny place. But I long to take the car and again crest the top of Raton Pass and zip down into New Mexico at 100+ mph.

Dessert

When was the last time you had a really bad week?

About 3 weeks ago. Minor bout of depression.

*********************************

Today’s Card:

Generous fulfilment of desires from a source that is pure and cleansing. Reward for patience and love given selflessly. True emotional stability and freedom.

Here…

************************

World Prayers

Wage peace with your breath.

Breathe in firemen and rubble,
breathe out whole buildings and flocks of red wing blackbirds.

Breathe in terrorists
and breathe out sleeping children and freshly mown fields.

Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees.

Breathe in the fallen and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.

Wage peace with your listening: hearing sirens, pray loud.

Remember your tools: flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers.

Make soup.

Play music, memorize the words for thank you in three languages.

Learn to knit, and make a hat.

Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,
imagine grief
as the outbreath of beauty
or the gesture of fish.

Swim for the other side.

Wage peace.

Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious:

Have a cup of tea and rejoice.

Act as if armistice has already arrived.
Celebrate today.

wage peace – judyth hill – september 12, 2001

***************************

Favorite moments of the week

Seeing my roomie after a month away

Knowing a friend feels comfortable enough to ask for help

Being told I am strong

Hearing from my muse

Laughing with friends from work over beers

Dancing in the Irish Pub

A friend saying he really likes my blog (yeah ego stuff, but hey I’m allowed)

I’m grateful for:

The HeartSong of Friendship

I invite you to pick a lily yourself; answer or respond to some part of this weekly meditation

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salope

Posted on Sunday, 25 May, 2008 by Rosa

Suce, salope!

I heard him growl softly a spit second before his bear-like hands pushed me to my knees in front of his erect cock…

Suce, salope!

He command a bit more forcefully just before I eagerly sucked his glistening, swollen head between my lips and deep into the back of my throat…

salope

I’m dressed in a v-neck, dark maroon shirt and soft black, long skirt with thigh high slits on each side. I have about an hour before I leave to meet my date at a local brew pub downtown. I’m not drinking tonight. Had more than enough last night. Flavorful dark beer and dancing at a local Irish pub. Good music, good dancing, lots of laughing. And a fiddle player who is one with her instrument. Afterwards, shots of tequila and a riding crop. Shees….some nights I have no self control. Ok, most nights I have no self control especially when it comes to dark beers. And tequila. And sex. But one too many shots left me hastily abandoning my favorite position in front of his cock, and instead positioning myself in front of the toilet in a effort to rid myself of the poison of choice. Later, riding him and getting off just as suddenly only to make another beeline for the bathroom. *sigh*

My hair is up and clipped in the back with a fancy barrette. Curls frame my face giving me a slightly soft look. Jaysus, if it weren’t for my platinum dyed hair I look like her; my namesake, my godmother, Rosa.

Suce, salope!

I wonder what the words for Suck, Slut are in Italian….

Posted in adventures in Paradise | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

continuum & a cuppa java…

Posted on Sunday, 18 May, 2008 by Rosa

literally speaking. talking a break and sharing my music this afternoon.

there is one sucky thing about the islands…no one comes here for concerts.

and really, i don’t understand why. cost aside *rolls eyes* like it really matters,

where could be better than playing a gig in Paradise?

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Sacred Life Sunday – Dreams

Posted on Sunday, 18 May, 2008 by Rosa

Sacred Life Sunday

For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.

Vincent Van Gogh 1852-1890

Never forget your dreams…

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Transitions

Posted on Saturday, 17 May, 2008 by Rosa

Ok, on some level I was flattered. I admit it. I have a great ass. And a pretty smackable one at that. *wink* But I don’t let strangers touch my ass. Actually, I’ve let relative strangers fondle my breasts. Hell, I’ve fucked relative strangers. But nobody touches my ass or smacks it without permission. What a weird possessiveness, or perhaps protectiveness?? about one specific part of my body and not others.

I cold cocked a stranger in a nightclub when I thought he pinched me (turns out it was his girlfriend). I was 20.

I came very close to slapping my husband upside the head for smacking my ass in public on our 10th anniversary. Shit, I remember feeling like a whore (don’t laugh). How dare he disrespect me like that. I was 45.

One afternoon, my husband asked me to tell him one of my fantasies. I blurted out, I want to be taken. Tell me what a dirty slut I am, turn me over your knee, spank my ass, push me down on my knees, make me suck your cock, bend me over the kitchen table, fuck my pussy, drag me off to the bedroom and then fuck my ass. Shocked I imagine as it was more than a few minutes for him to come out of complete silence. He did. Albeit hesitantly. I enjoyed it. We never spoke of it. We never did it again. I was 47.

Where the fuck did that come from??

I handed him my leather belt on our 2nd date. I’m not even sure why. Seemed like a good idea at the time. It was. *smile* Nothing extreme, but over those next 6 months he had the occasion to spank and smack my smackable ass. And I spent those 6 months liking it. I even presented my ass to him in public once when I dropped him off at the airport. *giggles* One look and I knew what he wanted. I did. He did. He owned it and he knew it. He read me well. He still does. I was 49.

Oddly enough, at the same time I was dealing with Eric and my ass. I was incredibly indignant about it all. It wasn’t the fact that he smacked me on the ass in public. Or that he did it after we met for the first time. Despite the flirting and the occasional bawdiness of our exchanges, we were not lovers (although I did fuck him once some months later). What bothered me most of all was that he did it with incredible finesse. His hand to my ass was always absolutely perfectly placed, always with a powerful sting, and always a complete surprise. It set me on edge and pissed me off.

That same year of 49 I took another lover. We talked more than I ever had before with anyone about sex and kink. We set out experimenting some. He was a bit stunned at my high tolerance to pain. I was always stunned at what it did to me and of how much I could take….how the first few smacks hurt more than the ones that followed despite increasing the frequency and intensity. His hand gave way to a ping pong paddle *laughs*. And then one night in the park, a willow switch. Another night, a maple switch. I still have the maple switch. I liked the willow switch. And not just on my ass, but on my pussy, and my clit, and my nipples…

In the midst of it all I finally pinpointed what pissed me off. I had this friend who told me anger was always a secondary emotion and I had to look at what was fueling the anger. It took me the whole year to figure it out.

He knew I liked it and he didn’t even know me. He knew something I didn’t really know about myself at the time. Or something I was unwilling to admit. And that scared the hell out of me. It scared me to think I was so transparent…to have a stranger instantly know what I desired, what I needed, what I enjoyed on a sexual level without saying a word. I was 50.

Wow. What the hell is going on here?

Now I’m 51 and I know a bit more about myself thanks to Eric. Now I hope he smacks my ass in July when I visit. *evil grin* Because there won’t be any pretense about enjoying it.

Oh, and I still wear that leather belt nearly every day. One day it will come off again…in the right hands.

And I’m left wondering where all this goes.

Posted in Along the Continuum, Reflections in the Mirror | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

Amazingly Beautiful the World We Live

Posted on Sunday, 11 May, 2008 by Rosa

Spread love everywhere you go
Mother Teresa

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Sacred Life Sunday – Grok

Posted on Sunday, 11 May, 2008 by Rosa


Sacred Life Sunday

I posted a comment on a friends blog in response to understanding a concept and taking it into your life.
I haven’t heard that term in years….

Grok…great term for it.
I haven’t read Stranger in a Strange Land in a long, long time. My first introduction to the genre.

Wow…that reminds me of some sweetness with the children. When they were small I’d lay on my side on the couch. It was a very deep couch. The youngest tucked within my arm with his legs over my chest so he could nurse, the middle at the crook of my hip and legs in front, and the oldest behind me at the crook of my knees with his legs over mine.  We called it “The Nest”.   Years and years later when the youngest was about 13 or so, he had a bad bout of stomach flu and came into my room in the middle of the night.  Mom, I need The Nest. A Nest Request? *smile* It filled me up to hear that.  I tucked him in with me so he could sleep peaceful for a bit.

I think I finally Grokked “Mom” that night.
You Grok?

Happy Mother’s Day.

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Guilt Meme

Posted on Saturday, 10 May, 2008 by Rosa

How do you define Guilt?

Mostly as a tool to manipulate others. It can also be a tool to manipulate our own behavior. And while that type of manipulation might be considered a good thing…a righteous act, it could very well be used to divert ourselves from Mastery. Guilt also speaks obligation to me. We all have them. But it seems to be always imposed and the not given freely kind of obligation.

What do you think of Guilt?

It’s a pretty destructive mode of communication we rely on to get our way because of some kind of false expectation we have of ourselves or others. It also seems to be based in the assumption that everyone would act in a certain manner….ours.

Does Guilt have healthy applications?

I think Guilt is built around a victim mentality. It’s easier to get our way by blaming someone else for our poor choices. That is….you don’t have anyone use Guilt because of a “good” outcome for them. There is only an attempt at using Guilt if you are the one who didn’t fuel it to conception for their benefit. So no. Not with others. And that forces this question:

Do you use Guilt as a method of self-censoring?

I self censor pretty well when I want to. *grins* It’s not that I don’t realize the consequences of my actions. I’m pretty cognizant of them I think. Sometimes I choose otherwise, sometimes I don’t. Isn’t it all about the conscious decision at any one moment in time? But I don’t perceive one or the other as coming from a Place of Censorship thru Guilt.

I’ll use a recent example: We went out in the field, did our work, took lunch, stopped to check out the antique store on the way back that the boss told us about, stopped for a short walk on the beach, hit the Ice Cream Parlour on the North Shore, went back to work, finished up and went home. Yah, we get to do that sometimes. *smile*

Do I feel guilty about taking a multi-hour lunch? That would be no. Did I suffer in some way because of it? Well yes, I pushed a deadline closer than wanted to. I was aware of the deadline and ignored it based on my pleasure at that moment in time. Yes, it caused a bit of stress (personal suffering in anxiety I created) about it all later. But I didn’t feel guilty. I do feel I didn’t necessarily do my best in that regard even tho I made the deadline. And I might do it again. But I don’t feel that I am without a conscience or don’t give a shit.

Do you use Guilt to censor others?

I have in the past. Many times. Probably we all have at some time or other to get our way. Nope, don’t do it any more. It’s a huge push for me towards resentment in any relationship. Either mine towards someone else or someone else’s toward me. I can hear no pretty well. I might not like it. And I might communicate my disappointment. But not in a manipulative way. As fact and kindly, making sure I also communicate that my feelings are mine….

Do you allow others to use Guilt to censor you?

ummm…no. The boundary lines have become pretty thick over the years. If it sounds inflexible….well, maybe it is. In the absence if unkindness by myself towards another…each person is responsible for their own emotional state. I’m more and more aware of mine and try pretty hard to take responsibility for them. I don’t want to take on others emotional blame in the you made me feel, or do in a certain way department

Any other thoughts about Guilt?

This seems to come down to nothing more than personal choice, expectations and perhaps jealousy. If I choose differently than you or differently than you want me to, and choose not to prolong any suffering about it I should feel guilty because…??? I didn’t meet your expectation of me? I didn’t meet what you think my expectations are of of myself? If I do feel guilty and suffer, or watch another feel guilty and suffer….are we somehow vindicated in our assessments?

How did you feel while doing this Meme?

Interesting because I started this post earlier this morning and ended up trashing it as too verbose and not making a point. So now I have to ask because I noticed by the time I got to the end I felt a bit of anger rising. And I’m not sure but it seems to stem from the fact that I am (half) jokingly referred to as the troublemaker of the group.

Maybe I just rationalize my do what I want attitude better than others…*laughs*

Note on what prompted this Meme:

Long story short….He said we should get going back to work because he was starting to feel guilty about it.

Laughing flip reply from Rosa, I don’t do guilt.

*head whipping action toward me riding shotgun* But that’s what keeps our conscience.

*blinks* I let it pass. Maybe it was all in the phrasing. Maybe I’m splitting hairs with terminology.

This was also communicated to me quite recently….Well, you always said you don’t do guilt. We’re all obligated to someone else. Must be nice to live your life the way you want.

So I’ve been thinking and that’s what prompted this Guilt Meme ‘cuz it seems to be a good way of cutting to the quick without being my overly verbose self today. *laughs*

Oh, one last thing. Sometimes in the introspection about Mastery through Accomplishment, I find I dwell heavily on issues that need work against Diverting. It just occurred to me as I finish up here, that it’s kinda fun to look at what doesn’t divert us for a change. *wink*

I’m quite sure Guilt is not something that I use to divert myself.


Posted in Along the Continuum, Mastery Through Accomplishment, Meme | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments

Updating Mastery

Posted on Sunday, 4 May, 2008 by Rosa

I worked myself into a funk this past week. Not like you could tell with the past two posts, right? Ugh. Another convenient path to diversion. Don’t wanna deal? Don’t wanna find solutions? Easy….just become depressed and then whine about it all.

Well despite my best efforts to stall myself, my car is in fact, as fixed as it will be for some time. Not counting the tires I need to get. And the windshield wipers. oh, and a bulb for one of the backup lights. Loads of work done virtually for parts. Yes a brother is taking care of me. Why I don’t know. I’ve been told he has a fondness for old hippie chicks, lol. And although he won’t lay me (he told me he has not time for sex) *rolls eyes*, he gives great hugs. He and I, well…we understand each other. *smile*

I’ve done my morning pages 5 of 7 days and that’s a bit better than half. Not all but working on it. Thing is….and I’m not sure if this is diverting or not. I am pretty strict when I do it. I know many who write them at other times of the day but I use that just-coming-out-of-sleep time for morning pages. So if I don’t do them on awakening, I don’t do them at all. Period. I’m trying to tap the unconscious. And here’s the thing. 3 is not half of 7 but it is for the purpose of morning pages. 4 is more than half of 7 and that feels good. 5 is great. 6 is something along the lines of might-as-well-been-all-week and it’s not but it feels huge. I’ve rarely done 7 anyway unless you count the exercises. Then it was 7 pretty consistantly. I could go on like this forever. Get the idea?

My glasses broke Thursday. Shit. Can’t be fixed. Did I get to the eye doc for contacts? No. I super glued my glasses. It is gonna cost….oh never mind…you have the picture.

Should I apologize for the sarcasm now or just bag it?

Let’s see….I wrote that letter as I stated in Progressing last week. Ask me if I sent it? No, and that would be because the box I need to go along with it isn’t full yet. Not that a flat letter went very far to filling a small flat rate box. But since I was sending it anyway I knew it would get there quicker than regular mail. So why not just pull it out and send it? I mean, I have stamps. Because the box is not full yet. Actually there are deeper issues here that I’m not sure where to shelve. *another diversion she hisses*

Work is coming along. I haven’t written much here because the situation is pretty hideous and each time I have to send an e-mail off to Colorado I feel like I’m in some sort of highly dysfunctional marriage. I actually told my boss there I felt like I was back in a former alcoholic marriage. I know I can’t change a thing. So I’ve tried to be cheerful and focused. Be silly. Keep it light in order to stall a bit more about making the decision to just leave. That would be best mentally. Yet….I do have bills and rent and kids coming to visit. Another decision…stalled.

Laundry is done. The kitchen remained clean all week. I found more tp under the sink. Thank goodness. Now I don’t have to go to the store. Except for those windheild wipers, bulb, and the lightbulb that blew in the kitchen last night.

Oh, and I did get the watercolors out. 7 full sheets of paper playing. I just don’t get it. Then I found a cool shell and went looking for my colored pencils. I cannot find them anywhere. I tore into all the boxes…I can’t remember….I know I bought them with me. So I’m thinking now I need a set of watercolor pencils. How much that will cost instead of getting down to just playing with the watercolors again. I don’t get it. It’s like missing an integral part of basic math to do algebra. Which I don’t do either.

Well…It is beach day and I am going to head for the North Shore.

Just thought I’d let you all know about my wonderful diversionary week.

Posted in Mastery Through Accomplishment, Reflections in the Mirror | Tagged , | 1 Comment

Sacred Life Sunday – See me, Hear me

Posted on Sunday, 4 May, 2008 by Rosa

Sacred Life Sunday

I have a story of Listening which happened in May of 2000. Although I do at times forget, I manage to come back to his powerful wisdom. I hope he knows how much his few words that day still influence me. Somehow…well, I think he does. *smile*

When I finally tracked him down by phone, I explained the situation without elaborating and without the normal chit-chat. He replied in the same simple and direct manner. We each guarded knowledge we could not, would not reveal. We both understood the sacredness of that knowledge.

Yes, I told him, In the hillside. Intact. Probably female. Young adult. Arms crossed at the chest. Sitting. Knees bent. Facing east. I listened to his soft, melodious voice and the instructions that came next.

Thank you, I understand. Here’s the number where you can make your arrangements. I’ll be the one getting back to you with travel and lodging details later this week.

We met in the afternoon before the ceremony some weeks later. He knew nothing about me. We had only talked briefly on the phone those few times.

After the initial formalities were tended to and we chatted, The Ute Elder suddenly asked, Do the plants talk to you, Little One?” His voice was still soft and melodious yet at the same time, strong and demanding of an answer.

I gasped as an almost imperceptible tightening in my solar plexus occurred hearing his question. I immediately dropped my head, averting my eyes partially in respect; but much more in discomfort and shame as I wondered why he tested me this way when he already knew the answer. I was being commanded to reveal a personal truth.

With my head still bowed I replied softly and sadly, No, no they don’t.

As I slowly lifted my head, his eyes stabbed my core like a shard of glass.

Perhaps you just need to listen more closely, Little One.

I give Thanks for friends…for cyber friends who visit with hugs and loving words as real as can be…
for friends who recognize my need and are gracious enough to give their time and help.

for a friend who continually listens to my silly lamenting with patience, and lovingly offers his help no matter what the time of day or night.

One can look and still be blind. One can hear and still be deaf. I need to practice seeing and listening.

Posted in Sacred Life Sunday | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

I'm so-o-o tired

Posted on Thursday, 1 May, 2008 by Rosa

of:

being alone
making the decisions
doing it all
being alone
work bullshit
heartache
a messy apartment
being alone
the fish
not having a sacred space
not being closer to the beach
being nice all the time
trying to be happy all the time
taking care of everyone else
not having anyone to take care of me
wishing he were you
being alone
wanting what I cannot ever have
missing you endlessly
being sad about it
being alone
my tears
longing for someone else, someplace else, something else
being alone
tired of running

I’m just so fucking tired…
maybe it’s time to move on
another country
or maybe it’s time to sleep
another space
for another hundred years
another place

Posted in Along the Continuum, Reflections in the Mirror | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Blue Plate Special $1.95 – BE

Posted on Wednesday, 30 April, 2008 by Rosa

Be daring, be different, be impractical, be anything that will assert integrity of purpose and imaginative vision against the play-it-safers, the creatures of the commonplace, the slaves of the ordinary.

~Sir Cecil Beaton~

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where does it go

Posted on Tuesday, 29 April, 2008 by Rosa

where does Love go when it’s heavy of heart and weary of war? when there is nothing left to give….when we refuse to receive….when Love turns into indifference? does it float off into the sphere somewhere and wait patiently for another to pick it up, to give it food and air and gently fan it back to life?

or does it remain as a seed coated in layers of our ego…waiting to be scarified and bought back into existence with the acknowledgment that all Love is Eternal Love. that we learn our greatest lessons and experience our greatest joy from Love and Loving. even when we do it badly….

Posted in Along the Continuum, Lost in Paradise | Tagged | 3 Comments

Paper and Pencil

Posted on Sunday, 27 April, 2008 by Rosa

I have too many. Is that possible? Having too much paper, too many journals and too many pencils? I have an obnoxious amount of journals. One for my morning pages. One beach journal. Two blank journals just in case. And my new quad lined notebook with another on back order. All are lined. They are all tucked in strategic locations in the apartment and the car. One in this bag and one in another. Add a composition notebook specifically for work. And a small memo pad that fits in my back pocket if need be. I won’t even mention all those sketch books and drawing pencils. Also scattered in in various locations just in case. I probably have more mechanical pencils than the average person. As a matter of fact, most times I am at a complete loss to find a pen.

I know a great deal of people who write completely on the computer. I’ve tried it. I just don’t like it.

I sat on the beach today with Beach Journal in hand and wondered about all this. Perhaps it has everything to do with the era in which I was raised…BC…Before Computers. Yes, there was such a time when everything was written by hand. Typewriters were for more formal compositions and final work.

Perhaps it’s because my thoughts flow more rapidly on paper. Actually that’s not quite right. My hand can keep up with my brain better on paper than my hand on a keyboard. I’m a fair typist at best, and by the time I fix all the typos as I go along, the thoughts are long gone and I’m left sitting mid sentence, wondering what is supposed to come next. Pencil to paper is more fluid. Less interruptions in the flow even if I do stop to erase here and there.

Perhaps I’m just an incurable romantic, believing that there is something inherently sexy about the handwritten page. Even the hand written grocery list is less sterile, less impersonal then its typed counterpart. And that the paper itself is sensual with its different weights, textures and colors. I also like the softness of a pencil. Even a very hard pencil is less harsh than a pen. A pencil is much more forgiving.

I’m starting to think I have some sort of paper and pencil fetish.

How do you write?

Posted in Passion | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Progressing

Posted on Sunday, 27 April, 2008 by Rosa

Despite a vague and lingering headache the last few days, I’ve made some progress in accomplishing some long overdue tasks as well as getting my morning pages done at least half this week. There was a time I wrote every morning and that is what I strive for again. Half way is better than not at all so I am happy about that effort.

I’ve done laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and started reorganizing this hideously small apartment. 400 sq feet isn’t much to work with and should be a snap to clean. But in small spaces even no clutter looks cluttered. *sigh* I even got some shopping done yesterday. Not the make-me-feel-better kind, but the needed kind. I tend to put this one off as long as possible. Which means down to one roll of toilet paper before I’ll even consider packing myself off to search the isles for the best deal.

I wrote that letter to a friend.

And got out my watercolors. Have I done anything with them? Uhhh…no. I wonder about my fear in this area….being able to create in this medium….

All in all, a decent week. Progress is key.

This afternoon is mine to slip off to the beach…

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