You can now find me listed in the Poets & Writers Directory Listing! This feels like a mini-dream come true.
You can now find me listed in the Poets & Writers Directory Listing! This feels like a mini-dream come true.
I know I’ve been distant the past month. This is due to many factors—visiting friends out-of-town, which was refreshing, working through abuse memories and healing (always), but the last few weekends it’s been about learning how to RIDE A MOTORCYCLE.
This is something I never thought I would be capable of, having been told since childhood that was so too dumb, too uncoordinated, or just plan incapable of anything! These thoughts have been plaguing me, creeping in—I realized I was experiencing a lot of self-doubt and hurt because of this self-image I still carried.
Recently, I was talking with a friend about working on being more present and connected to my body, and he said, “you should try doing something in your life that demands presence and connection.” After some thinking, I thought: I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle. Thus, the idea was born. I signed up for a local safety class, and over the weekend I took their written and riding exam and passed!
This may sound straightforward and simple, but for me it wasn’t.
On Day One, I dropped the bike, and snapped a piece off it of. I fought a lot of emotions, crying briefly, as other people whizzed around me. I took a deep breath and determined not to quit. Whether I passed or not, or had more difficulties, I thought, “no one could say that I was a quitter.” On Day Two, I had trouble with an exercise and had to reign in my emotions again. Sweaty, sunburned, and bodily fatigued, I carried on. I failed my riding test. I was discouraged and sad, “maybe what my family said is right—I am dumb and uncoordinated.”
But, I communicated with the riding school, and they were very willing to allow me to take the riding classes again and the test free of charge. I reasoned that likely I wasn’t dumb, but was tired, nervous, and it was a new concept to me. I had never even really used a manual transmission before, so what was I expecting? I gave myself some love in my heart, and became resolute, thinking, “if average people can ride a motorcycle, so can I. I have two arms and two feet, and two eyes, I can learn.”
This past weekend I took the classes again and the riding exam. Everything was smoother. The fear factor I had before was gone. I was more comfortable being with a group of people (something that was panic attack-inducing to me not too long ago), I was connecting to my body (I suffer from dissociation, so this is a big deal), and working on active listening (asking others for clarification—which also used to cause panic in me, because I used to feel so small and inhuman).
I’m going to be writing some more about what I learned and experienced, and I’m going to be writing about my adventures in motorcycling.
By telling you about my experience, my message is, if you want something, keep persisting. And remember, if average people can “get it,” you can, too.
I’ve been meaning to write a more in-depth post for some time. My head space has been a bit scrambled, and I’ve been wading through a lot of current life sideline emotion and the more nebulous backlog of emotion from the history of abuse. Abuse sucks, plain and simple. It is a powerful force that for huge segments of my life has been a drain of resources, time, energy, focus, drive, even willingness to live. Never mind having to do more things in a day besides just existing. Existing was the hardest thing for me do—when the abuse was happening, when it was becoming known to me in my consciousness; as the veils and distances of time and space fell away in my healing, it made everything get closer. More personal. Harder to deny, impossible to run away from. I tried to hide physically, emotionally, mentally, and when I was all done exerting myself from that, the truth would sit there, unamused by my antics, and ever-patient, telling me this happened to you.
So, here is my new goal. This isn’t a healing-focused blog, as I’ve had them before and they have been very beneficial, but also enabled a lot of wallowing. I’m not interested in that. I’m interested in being, and in making space and saying Yes to what is left of me, and what is growing from this point forward.
This is my grounding tactic—my tether and my answer to loss, to shame, to new memories, to all manner of uncontrollable. This, I can control. I can come here. I can be here.
So, here’s my new motto, and life goal—
I love you all, I hope you will continue on this creating journey with me—of fortifying self, and creative skills. ♥
I sent five poems to Dead King Magazine two weeks ago. A few days ago I received a lovely acceptance letter. I leaped out of my chair. I have been sending out submissions pretty regularly the last few months, processing lots of rejection letters, just waiting for the eventual good turn, and it happened.
Out of the five poems listed, they decided on two, “Waiting for the Anger to Stop,” and “A Phone Call Unanswered.” I’m pleased because they were recently written, within the last six months — and one of them within the last few weeks — which reassures me that I’m on an encouraging growth path with my writing. I’ve worried over time that I’ve lost my sense of direction, gotten rusty, clumsy, out-of-touch, or too experimental, or, worse, not experimental enough. I’ve been writing for 14 years, fairly steadily; I’ve put in a lot of time and heart. I know that writing poetry has expanded from the realm of interest, past hobby, and is now into “work” territory — where I can hardly think of doing anything else, aside from drawing.
It’s nice to see some response from that effort — even if it is just a magazine acceptance, and in the grand scheme of things as awesome as that is, it doesn’t amount to much in the scope of it all. The strange thing is, I can’t even answer why I’m sending out my poems. It’s not to be well-known, because that’s unlikely. It’s not for recognition, or acceptance, or fellow poet acknowledgements — I think it’s what I hinted at before — challenging myself and seeing what sticks. After all this time, and development, wouldn’t it be nice to know where I stand in skill?
After all, what is creative growth but pushing and pushing? Reading others who are in your field of interest? Learning, contributing among them, and seeing what comes back to you — fully-formed, or split? What is there to take away? What expansion can be had? Who sees you? Who can benefit from the words? The observations? Other people who see as you do. Other people who know what it takes to make the words work — and those people are poets — and the people who are poet lovers. I know of no other art that seeks for the distillation of truth at this intensity. And it does. Originally starting as a therapy for me — and it still is — poetry is where I turn to first. When I try to make sense, when conflict and emotions scatter in mid-air, are hard to catch and hang onto, I pin them down the best I can with poetry. It’s what I have. And it’s what I want to give to others. That peace. That distillation of experience, tangible, and distant, but close enough to look at, interpret.
I’ve posted parts of this small work on my new WIP page.
I’m working on keeping my hands and brain going. I’ve got lots of ideas for the upcoming year. How have things been going for you? Have you set some goals for the year ahead? Instead of setting goals this year, I’m sticking to some core values and working my way from there.
1. Love and be loved
2. Kindness, kindness, kindness – toward self and others
4. Art is play, poetry is play, life is play
(A great article I read along these lines is here.)
It’s easy to get overwhelmed with creative pursuits. I have poetry goals, artistic goals, book goals, learning various programs and getting-proficient goals. The task list can be eye-boggling, but taking it a little bit at a time is helping to steady me. I can take small steps everyday. That’s a thing I can do. Over time, those small steps will lead to a large progress. It’s the One-Day-At-A-Time Mentality. I can do this. You can do this, too.
I’m rooting for you and thinking of you in the days ahead.
Keep doing what you’re doing, keep your goals in the forefront of your heart and go for it.
I have been battling with doubt and rhetorical questions of doom, such as: How am I supposed to make this look? Am I on the right track? Does this look right?
Note the condescending, scary words I use in my own mind: “supposed” and “right”. Those words, my friends, are creativity killers.
Paired with judgmental, stern remarks, such as: This looks ugly. This looks like nothing at all. I’ve wasted precious time.
Insecurities and self-doubt have been plaguing me, but I have just kept on working, trying to get into the flow of it. It’s hard to get immersed and have fun with all that pressure. Fortunately, I am in full control of that pressure, because I am the only one making demands on myself!
I’m not the first or the last artist to struggle with this. Surely, this isn’t the end of struggling for me, either. But seeing the problem and identifying it is more than half the battle. I must remember to keep my positivity up — being kind to myself is important, but positivity also has the added benefit of keeping the work flowing. By being happy and meditative while doing my art, and enjoying my time, I gain momentum for future works and future progress — which is what I’m after.
Here are some things I’ve been saying to myself, maybe they can be of use to you, too:
1. The process is the process. You can’t skip it.
2. Stuff takes as long as it takes, and that’s okay.
3. Frustration is a wasteful emotion; try “I’m being challenged” instead.
4. The more you work, and figure stuff out, the more reward.
5. Time spent doing art is time spent well.
6. It makes me happy, and the progression is really inspiring.
7. Self-growth is amazing; and it happens when I invest time and thought.
8. I want to make art, and enjoy it.
9. I would rather be here, now, doing this, than anywhere else.
10. This is a healing space and time for me, and is precious and loving.
Articles that inspired this post which you might find interesting:
“Life of a Project” (info-diagram) by Austin Kleon:
Unnatural Light (blog) commentary about Kleon’s diagram and creativity:
Because I am so very loved (and am the luckiest girl in the world) by Liam Kincaid (author of Operation Break Iron) and Lon Boder, <3 I received a happy little present in the mail yesterday!
We’d been talking about getting me a Cintiq for some time, but the price was more than we were comfortable with, particularly since I wasn’t really even sure yet that I was going to enjoy working on an on-screen drawing tablet.
Even though I am only Day Two into owning this lovely thing, I can tell we’re going to have a fantastic working relationship. After installing some Wacom drivers for the tablet sensitivity and pen, the Fujitsu ran Autodesk Sketchbook, Krita, Photoshop, and Illustrator smoothly, with a speedy responsiveness to my sketching on-screen demands.
The Fujitsu Lifebook is a little old, and I got it used, but it’s a great start for someone like me who is just getting herself figured out in the age of art prints over the internet. I am excited about what freedom I’ll have, being able to take this laptop/tablet combination anywhere, being able to draw and sketch easily without fuss.
I am currently reviewing sites online that sell prints and other merchandise based on artwork you provide — Redbubble and Society6 to name two. I am super thrilled to see how all that is going to turn out.
So, here’s another step in the right direction — getting tools to facilitate the creativity, and the courage to look into possible reality of making my art marketable! Yay!
I have seventy poems selected for my chapbook, all approved, edited, and ready to be finalized! They date within the last five years. It’s hard to look at my life in terms of title, theme, and symbolism, and not feel a little self-conscious. I have been exclaiming to myself, “Did I really write that?” and “Wow. I must have been going through some serious mood swings.” The dates and oscillations are profound to me. It’s odd, having to be critical of what are for me highly-emotional expressions. My poetry is confessional, and seeing my life stamped out in poem form, cumulatively reviewing with an editorial eye, has a third-person quality which makes my skin crawl.
I have reached the ordering process, the placement of each poem within the book. The best advice I’ve heard pertaining to this involves printing out every single poem, spreading them out on the floor, reviewing and ordering them, something akin to sequencing a mix-tape for a friend. What themes oppose each other? What titles merge well, making additional symbolism? Where is the low point of the collection? Where is the climax? On what emotional note do you start and end the work?
Within seventy poems, and the additions of some drawings, I have to craft an entire experience. I like that this has fallen on me to do this. It gives me a great sense of control, but also connects me to my potential reader. It forces me to re-experience my work (and by extension, myself) in a tactile, loose-but-stitched-together way.
I like this idea a lot — after all, what could be better than a ‘mix-tape’ of poetry?
Frankly, I spent an entire month being intimidated by the mere existence of this site, contemplating and agonizing over what I was going to say, what I was going to do. Sure, I write poetry and dabble in some other creative forms, but what makes me qualified to talk about it and share my emotions and process with others? Qualified is such a strong, off-putting, knock-the-courage-out-of-you, authoritative word, isn’t it?
Even though my two decades of physical, sexual, and psychological abuse are many years in the past, I still have great difficulty waking up in the morning and regarding myself as human. Sometimes, I think I am incapable of breathing, but then I see the demonstrable evidence; I am irrefutably alive. Yet, in spite of all the insecurity inside of me, I feel an immeasurable joy.
So, what am I going to blog about? Well, during my darkest days, I spent countless hours searching desperately for someone to speak for me, through a poem or a story, someone to give voice to my hopelessness, anguish, loneliness, and despair. I needed the comfort that could only come from a fellow-sufferer. Sadly, apart from a couple of artists whom I now call friends, I came up remarkably short. Worse, many of the resources available focus on descriptions of blood, gore, and atrocities, which are anti-healing.
We all cope with the effects of our own past-life, every day. This site will share how I cope with mine. It is time for me to open up, to share my poems, artwork, and writings, in the hope that others will find in them what I searched for so long: a voice for the heart and a hope for the future.