Confused BUT Confident

I am not sure what I've done to feel so punished, or to carry guilt. I honestly have no idea, anymore, as to what I could have possibly done to other people in order for them to feel justified in sending a personal attack. 

Whatever I have done has resulted in more family feuds and drama. I don't enjoy sharing family moments or information publicly, but I'm hoping that in this case it may help someone else along the way. 

In March of this year my father was hit while riding his motorcycle. He was getting dinner for my mother and the girl who hit him may have been using a cell phone when she accidentally pulled out to turn and hit him straight on. Having someone taken from you so suddenly, with no last words, and under such conditions, comes with it's own set of unanswered questions, doubt, and grief. I have had no expectations from anyone about how to handle the tragedy on it's own, with me, or all together. However, as I've addressed in past blogs, I did distance myself from people. As a result of my depression from the loss and my severe retreat into my own little world I've had unpleasant experiences from people that continue to attempt making my tragedy all about them. 

Unfortunately, my grandfather, my dad's dad, passed away last month. These are two major losses in my family. I personally still have not found the strength, words, or reality to express my thoughts pertaining to the loss of my grandfather. However, although I've gotten the illusion of people understanding that loss I've still gotten a severe backlash. 

My husband's birthday is on Halloween... I know it sounds cool, but he gets overlooked on his special day because of it sometimes. So this year I went out and tried to get as many people to send him a Happy Birthday while he was on the road working, nice thought right? I was upset to find out that on a day that should have been pleasant and happy for him was tainted by other people's need to be in the spotlight at our expense and negatively.

I've lived my life on many different and changing terms through the years. Sometimes we change just to get by and sometimes we change for the absolute best. No matter what I've changed about myself through the years I've always been honest, straight forward, respectful, and sometimes too respectful. I'm starting to think that kindness really doesn't get you anywhere. You do the best you can in this world and when people take advantage of that kindness multiple times you just have to cut out the negativity. 

Wrapping this up there is a reason to my ramblings. We certainly can not please everyone, but the events I wrote about above are sensitive, new, and were private until now. I am addressing these events in the direction of selfishness and the lack of patience I now have for anyone doesn't think before they act. When you turn someone else's tragedy or happiness into a guilt trip or form of manipulation you might want to consider the long term damage you are doing. I am begging and pleading with everyone out there to start communicating and not holding back. If you are a passive aggressive person STOP. People are much more resilient and strong than you give them credit for and if they aren't then maybe you don't need them in your lives. Death and Birth are days and moments only the people experiencing the event have the right to ultimately act on, everyone else should try to support the situation or stay away until they can. 

Back to the guilt and punishment, I've had personal attacks linking to all of the things I've mentioned. I've found more than not that friends, not blood relatives, tend to be more supportive in your time of need. (there are exceptions) I have no guilt, and I have nothing to feel punishment for. I will not hold my tongue anymore and I will not have my personal character attacked by anyone. No matter what you should always believe in defending the one thing you DO have control over, and that's how you want people to perceive you or what you want them to walk away with at the end of the day. 

Porch Reunion

These last warm autumn days and these perfectly cooled nights are appropriately celebrated on a front porch and with a cold beer. Best friends side by side and silence greets my conscience with calm, renewed, understanding.

It's been approximately nine years since we last sat on this porch and enjoyed the same feeling. Not a word is uttered, but our hearts slow to a beat that fits the "new experience". This front porch has now become a poetic justice and something witness to a full circle event.

Years ago we used to make fun of computers, technological gadgets, and cell phones. Today we, my best friend and I, sit here using our laptops side by side and are listing to music pouring out of my cell phone. It hasn't even been a full ten years and the things around us seem so foreign, but our laughter and sense of humor has not changed a bit.

We fought for this friendship, on this porch. We kissed once, on this porch. We cried, on this porch. We got drunk and danced, on this porch. We watched parents and siblings grow older, on this porch. We watched the paint chip and the wood bend, on this porch. We saw neighbors scream, weather change, and lights flicker on this porch.

People wait their whole life to understand their memories and we are sitting here building on top of ours. With wisdom from travel, time, mistakes, and heartbreak we are building a new porch.

This is our porch. We invite you to sit and stay a while.

A place to sit

For the first time in my life I feel like I don't need to live anywhere in particular to find a place to sit. Finding a place to sit, in this context, simply means a place where I can think a little clearer. I am out exploring all the new places in my home town that my generation has created and I'm finding an overall creative thread. With creativity, for me, comes comfort.

Currently I am sitting inside the Friendly Fox, in Fort Wayne, IN just off of South Wayne Avenue. The coffee is sub par, but I'm a brat in that arena. The music this mid-morning is actually really good. It's raining heavily and there isn't a more accurate state of gloom on earth like the sky overhead. It's a great day for different food and a great rainy day view.

Here I have found it, the want to write again. To simply let these thoughts fly, and to let them fly without caution or care.

Moving home has been a relentless roller coaster of emotional situations. One run in after another with old friends, older friend's siblings, and people/situations that I'm just completely unprepared for. I should be focusing on the now, the emotions I need to battle, but I am focused and targeted to things that squander away my useful energy. Although I have been sort of nudged off my initial path I have been extremely productive.

For the first time in years I am surrounded by people that really care and go out of their way on a daily basis to help out everyone around them when ever they can. It's the multitude of people, all at once, that really overwhelm me. My husband has NEVER experienced community on this scale and was completely taken back by all of this as well. Since I grew up here I can imagine that it still exists and I can hope to find it somewhere else, but I've really only found this level of camaraderie in Denmark, but I was there for such short period of time that I might be subject to people disagreeing all together. I hope that my husband can find a place to sit someday too.

We all need a place to sit, think, create, or just digest. This is the type of place that may not be perfect, but I'll find another. The Friendly Fox is just around the corner and if my coffee machine is broken I won't hesitate to take a walk to this corner nook.

Between death and life there might be a coffee shop where we can all contemplate the next step, bolt of energy, or just watch from an afterlife laptop what our families in this world are doing.

Hard Work is the best kind of Abuse

It's been a while since I have had the chance/opportunity to get my hands dirty. Not only did I get to break a sweat today, but I was given the opportunity to learn a new skill. It may be small to some people, but I love learning how to fix things within homes so that when I need that skill I can use it properly. I was taught how to make plaster, really easy, and then patch holes, also really easy. It really wasn't the difficulty of the skills, but doing it correctly. I then got to sand with a compression sander. I know there's a better term for this, but I can't remember what my husband said.

When I go through rough times I tend to look for physical pain to confirm certain feelings. This is all very subconscious and never harmful. I have found a trend in tattoos, piercings, physical labor, and high compact sports when I process pain, stress, depression, or anger. This time I've gone through the tattoo & labor stage.

I have a house full of projects to complete and I plan on playing soccer as soon as possible. These things are my personal form of mental process and a major aspect of my own survival.

My grandfather, my Dad's father, passed away last Sunday. I have a peaceful outlook on all of it, but him passing so shortly after my Dad passed away is tough. We all have a long journey when this kind of chapter takes place in life, but I know I am fortunate to understand my own person well enough to take charge of my needs in order to get through it all in a healthy way.

To each their own path and to each person their own process.

Art Community Courtesy

I think I've lost my art community courtesy and overall awareness. I remember the days when there was a genuine exchange between myself and any other artist I connected with. However, lately it's been brought to my awareness that I've possibly been, not rude, but neglecting my courteous exchange. I do not look at this act as an obligation instead it's a true pleasure. I am so sorry to those I have not been able to continue communication with or the overall exchange of my thoughts and reactions in the world of art. I will get to the focus point soon of being able to stay grounded, but in touch too. Love all my artists and their love they've given! xoxoxoxo

Glance to Glance CHANCE

Just found this piece of writing that I wrote sometime between 2008 & 2009....

Bloody Crusted Lips
Scab Scratched Face
Blue Eyed Boy
Glance to Glance
     CHANCE

Train Romance "the original"
Scull buckle and all
One Such as Would
        FALL

Starring back
Bukowski at my feet
Camera on my mind
Your kiss Would be a treat

Luck is no matter here
My Decision
True Love awaits
You and With
No Collision

Poking, prawding, and pushing me into the Anger Stage

I have been grieving slowly and in my own way. Tonight I've been pushed to the limit. Everyday day for the last fucking two weeks I have had the unfortunate experience of going through people's emotions instead of facing and dealing with my own. Only one person has been honest and seems to understand the art of communication and I thank her for that. There is however and unfortunate number of people that can not just keep peace by keeping quiet. Maybe I haven't come forward with what I need during my time of need, but I haven't known until now. Originally I was upset at the limited amount of people that actually had the nerve to check up on me, but now I just want everyone to leave me alone until I come to them. This is a very powerful thing/statement, and I understand that, but if all I am doing by ignoring you or putting you off is hurting your feelings then I'd like to deal with that later down the line if it's okay with you. How can anyone be so self involved as to come at someone during the worst emotional time in there life and judge or beg for a certain level of attention. I can't believe that Facebook, twitter, cell phones, and text messages aren't enough for people, what other form of confirmation that people care, or "care", do you need. Let people in suffering rest up. Let them breathe. Don't hold expectations of when you "think" they should heal. I personally don't need to hear anymore stories alike, I don't need words of wisdom, I don't need anyone in my face about my feelings or theirs.

I am angry. It's official, I can't see certain people now. I have reached a limit of calm and content. I have no more warnings to give or favors to ask. I am on the rough road of finding peace, happiness, or any combination of those things that might allow me to live on a some what normal level.

God forbid that anyone, or any of you, loose someone. There's been death and loss forever, but each person struggles or deals with it in their own way. I've been blessed with some fortunate conversations, but I ask for no more. I feel like I'm choking on pudding or drowning in a see of words.

I had a friend that mentioned once that they were sick of people feeding off of their tragedy and at the time I didn't get it. Now I feel like I understand it fully. Every time you make this about you or someone else you take away dignity from yourself and the unfortunate situation.

I'll be in the bar in two weeks with whiskey in hand if anyone dares to discuss anything further on the matter.

Dearest Readers....this is my loss to suffer, please let me do it in my own space and time.

The Coffee Kid

They call me "The Coffee Kid". I wake up with a grumpy grin, or a satin stare. You don't want to try to talk at me until my second cup. I'll be your best friend if you just give me my wake up tradition. After the second cup my thoughts start to warm up...

... i took the best of them both and made a body & soul dedicated to the idea...

...where's my best friend today...

... this day is going to be good, but I have a lot of packing to do ...

... and everything keeps moving forward.

He Asked a Question

A friend asked me yesterday...."What do you want"?

- I want my Dad back. Silly, maybe childish, but it's what I want.

The Devil's right hand Witch and the Fool

Dearest Witch and Fool,

I just want to tell you the truth.
The chance to put you into perspective with everyone's loop.
There may never be a "right time",
I will never tell you while on your dime.

A lack of fullfillment,
A lack of faith,
not of the religous kind.

Someday I hope,
on your own,
you will find tangable things, wealth, and perfection don't fit in a grave.

This I promise you;
friendship
hardwork,
and charity will in time save.

Your efforts will conceal,
all the things you deal.

With a full hand and tilt in the air,
tempting fate I would not dare.

Karma and kindness go hand in hand.

I'm guessing most of your life will not go as planned.

Give up control,
enjoy a little on the roll.

Here's an outside perspective that I hope one day you might understand:

LIVE AND LET LIVE.

A Night to Live Again

Tattoo and Music Junkies UNITED

Join us for a Scary frightful Night

Peirce your hearts with speakers Delight

Give the middle finger until it feels just Right

Let the sweat pour Out

Let the screams take Route

It's a night of Sin

It's a night to live Again

Sky Lifting

When the sky lifts and the clouds linger there is an electricity that sets into the air. I watch as the wind picks up as trash cans start to roll down the street. The temperature finally starts to drop with the wind blowing through my hair. Random thunder with no warning, the windows shake. There might certainly be a storm passing through here tonight but not as the sun breaks. A little change in weather can bring relief, but tomorrow will come, good grief.

Creep

One. Step. Away. From. You. Creeping up...on You.

Scott E. Beatty - Dad

That moment destroyed a part of me. There is a type of burnt, black, void that will never be filled again. The world, nature, life, took away the most precious, strong, and ongoing relationship, influence, in my life.

No matter the advice, the kind words, the condolences, and thoughts, this does not, and will not, get better. Fine, you learn to live with it, move on, but the hurt and pain goes nowhere. Sometimes, just when you think it's peaceful, or you might be far enough away from the sadness to take a breath, there's a trigger that evokes all those tears again.

Although death comes swiftly to some and there tends to be comfort in that, there is no comfort in death when you live with a full awareness of life.  A celebration of life is important, and the best thing we can hang onto, however, it's not easy.

Yes, I am sad, and finally angry. I am angry at people and my own emotions. You don't get to forgive and forget just because someone dies. It's horrible to see so many people attempt at accomplishing their own remorse over a dead man's body. Reflection is the only way to accomplish forgiveness from yourself, not other people.

I struggle every single day. People move on so quickly, and they have every right to. What do you do to honor someone that wasn't just a Father or a Best Friend? There are days, weeks, and months to come, where my coping mechanism will alter, during those changes I must find an outlet. Tattoos and memories only take you so far and are not an appropriate crutch. I hope that I can use the strength that might come from this to comfort my friends in the future. This is one of the few comforts I might take away.

Every time I hear a siren is stirs my blood. Every time I hear a motorcycle I find pricks from pins and needles. When I see someone on a cell phone, for any reason, while driving, I want to follow them and destroy their device. Your life is not as important as anyone else and cell phones lend us that illusion. Everyone else can wait if it will save a life.

I will leave you with this poem by Siegfried Sassoon (1886–1967). 


                                                      The Death-Bed

HE drowsed and was aware of silence heaped
Round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls;
Aqueous like floating rays of amber light,
Soaring and quivering in the wings of sleep.
Silence and safety; and his mortal shore	5
Lipped by the inward, moonless waves of death.
Someone was holding water to his mouth.
He swallowed, unresisting; moaned and dropped
Through crimson gloom to darkness; and forgot
The opiate throb and ache that was his wound.	10
Water—calm, sliding green above the weir.
Water—a sky-lit alley for his boat,
Bird-voiced, and bordered with reflected flowers
And shaken hues of summer; drifting down,
He dipped contented oars, and sighed, and slept.	15
Night, with a gust of wind, was in the ward,
Blowing the curtain to a glimmering curve.
Night. He was blind; he could not see the stars
Glinting among the wraiths of wandering cloud;
Queer blots of colour, purple, scarlet, green,	20
Flickered and faded in his drowning eyes.
Rain—he could hear it rustling through the dark;
Fragrance and passionless music woven as one;
Warm rain on drooping roses; pattering showers
That soak the woods; not the harsh rain that sweeps	25
Behind the thunder, but a trickling peace,
Gently and slowly washing life away.     .    .    .    .
He stirred, shifting his body; then the pain
Leapt like a prowling beast, and gripped and tore
His groping dreams with grinding claws and fangs.	30
But someone was beside him; soon he lay
Shuddering because that evil thing had passed.
And death, who’d stepped toward him, paused and stared.
Light many lamps and gather round his bed.
Lend him your eyes, warm blood, and will to live.	35
Speak to him; rouse him; you may save him yet.
He’s young; he hated War; how should he die
When cruel old campaigners win safe through?
But death replied: ‘I choose him.’ So he went,
And there was silence in the summer night;	40
Silence and safety; and the veils of sleep.
Then, far away, the thudding of the guns.

Bronchitis Bliss...shake it up...Depression with a Twist

At the end of November I came down with Bronchitis for the first time. I had it for four weeks before I returned to work. I worked through the holidays and into the new year. Bronchitis really wore me down and I had a lot of time to think, or watch T.V.

I watched an extreme amount of T.V., Netflix. It was all I could do, other than read. I should have read more, but I just zoned out. I spent so much time watching tube that now I'm addicted. I've recreated an old habit that took me years and years to break. I used to have the T.V. on as background noise while cleaning, talking on the phone, making art, and eating. I took away television from my life all together once I obtained my first apartment years ago. When I married I accepted T.V. into my life again. Now I'm back where I started.

I'm distracted, constantly. I'm ready to take the T.V. away, or at least put it in a corner. I love my studio, but I keep ending up in my main living area and I'm not accomplishing much.

My mission this weekend is completely within reach, but I have to get away from the T.V.!!! It's a new year, and this is NOT how I want it to start.

The depression part of this little revelation is related to how down and out I get when I allow my day to be wasted in a black hole of TUBE! Gotta get out.