“suffering is not holding you.

you are holding suffering.

when you become good at the art of letting suffering go, then you come to realize how unnecessary it was for you to drag those burdens around with you.

you’ll see that no one else other than you was responsible.

the truth is that existance wants your life to be a festival.”

– osho



you know how sometimes nothing is really wrong, but nothing is really right, and you know you’re supposed to be figuring out the answer to one of those really big life questions, and sometimes, you come up with an answer, but it’s realllly hard to get yourself out of that rut you were in and implement the changes you figured out  and while you’re halfassedly trying to to fool yourself into believing that backward step you took, could, in the right light be construed as a baby step forward, you have a new revelation, and that one totally makes everything else make sense, but, it happens while you’re driving and, you couldn’twrite it down or tell anyone, and now it’s like a dream – peripherally, you catch a glimpse of it, but you can’t get a full handed grasp, and you know it was the answer – maybe the answer to everything, and you want it back….

pink & orange

pink & orange

I so did not want to do what really needed to be done today.  I have huge issues with pr type stuff.  Something about it feels bragadocious and boastful.  I know that it really isn’t, and no one is ever going to know about this war project if I don’t get out and tell them, but it’s really hard.

Somehow when I speak to people about it, it ends up back at me and “what an awe inspiring idea”  I had, and it feels too much about me, and it’s not supposed to be about me.  The whole rest of my life is selfishly about me.

Instead of whining, I’ll post some photos of someone elses charity project that I maniacally worked on instead of my own.

project improv block

another project improv block

another project improv block

project improv block

stream of concsiousness

enter at your own risk

so, here’s the story. another blogger wrote about some trouble in their relationship. it’s a strange relationship and has been so for as long as i’ve been reading. all of a sudden last week things got to such a point that that my friend left. unable to find a motel room and sleeping in the car. this is indeed the saddest chapter yet in this saga. I couldn’t comment and wish my friend well because i was really struggling with what to say. something inside me felt like this was big. i realize this morning that what was niggling me, was the fact that none of the other commenters mentioned this either, and had the gender roles been reversed it might have been a constant concern. no one asked if he was safe. not just in the get in out of the car somewhere with four walls shelter safe, but, safe from physical, emotional and verbal abuse in your relationship. we wouldn’t hesitate to ask a woman, why do we step around the issue for a man? having worked at a shelter for battered women i know the importance of asking this uncomfortable question. i also know that women are abusers as well as victims. and abusive women can be as charming and friendly and unsuspecting as their male counterparts. gender differences in our society still expect us to “protect” our womenfolk, so asking if a woman is safe is seen as kind and caring. but asking a man if he is safe from the woman he loves, could be seen as emasculating and not the same kind of caring as asking a woman. arrgh! this is why i couldn’t leave a comment. it’s a book. and obviously i have some of my own unresolved issues floating in the mix, and he doesn’t need to deal with my shit on top of his. so what does a “friend” do? my first response to reading that a female friend left her partner and was sleeping in the car would have been to quietly ask if she was safe, and hope to god that when she told me she was, it was true. i owe him the same respect don’t i?

It was a busy week when I couldn’t get into the blog.  I have lots to share.

A #1….  I got a job!!  In my field!!!  It’s only part- time, but it’s a foot in the door.  I start Monday morning as a Para Professional in an Early Childhood Special Education classroom.  The school is only 10 blocks from my house, so I get to walk and be good to the environment and myself.

I’m really excited about this.  As far as jobs go, working at the abortion clinic was the job that has given me the greatest sense of pride and the only times I’ve really felt patriotic about something.  Truly standing up for what I believe in the face of extreme opposition felt right.

But my job as Children’s Services Coordinator gave me a longer lasting feeling of having really done something worthwhile.  I am anxious to do meaningful work again.

It seems wrong that the more soul sucking a job was, the more stability it provided me.  My last job paid me well enough.  I don’t require a lot, so, it was fine.  But I never went home feeling like I had accomplished anything.  Like I’d solved a problem, made a difference. Now I’ll be doing something that truly adds value to the world and will struggle to make rent and pay my bills.

If I have to choose between filling soul and my pocket book, my soul’s gonna win this time.


This is a piece that is most unlike the rest of my work. It was made after 9/11, during the anthrax scare. At the time, I worked in the mailing department of my company, and was absolutely terrified of anthrax. I know it was ridiculous. I knew it then.  But I just couldn’t shake it.

I had worked at an abortion clinic that actually had been bombed, (it was a small bomb and caused very little damage, but still…) and infiltrated by protesters, none of which caused me excessive anxiety. I was certainly more threatened in my tenure at the clinic than I was handling a few postal totes everyday.

Perhaps it was  easier to control my anxiety at the clinic because I knew I was working for something I really feel strongly about.  Control of my body is my right, and my responsibility.

My job at the clinic was always one of my favorite jobs.  Interesting, and challenging work, standing up for something I believe in.

Today is the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade.  It saddens me that we are still having to fight so hard to maintain what should be a fundamental right for women.  We don’t offer honest sex education to our children,  some pharmacists think it’s ok to deny morning after meds, and in some cases birth control to women.  More stuff I will never understand.

Women are strong and intelligent beings who deserve the right to control our own destinies as we see fit.


It’s freakishly cold here today. 17 below last I checked. It has put some gorgeous frost on all of my windows. I find myself moving from room to room, following the sun so I can be hypnotized by all the little prisms.

I wish I was a better photographer. I could share some of this. You’ll just have to trust me.