March 24
I am a grandmother of five but I rarely make this a conversational topic because if you went the destiny of having family, then your children usually have children and so forth. But I find the stereotype of being a grandmother very daunting at least to me, as badly as was being a 'career woman' was when my mother was a young lawyer with five kids. Whatever you do, she told me, don't follow my path. So i didn't, yet now, I am encouraging my grown children to - go for it, have a career, be happy. And I get their children to babysit! haha!
But I am a writer, and above all, this means more tome than anything. I feel in my gut there is something to say, and when i don't have this i will find something else to do. I am going to return soon to my healing and music work, in context of writing about these, that is next, but for now, tis a few more memoirs to finish. I watch children in between writing, and also teach and I am a direct care professional but i am leaving these corporate designations behind and i want to be simply in love with healing and seeing into what is important to healing which is connection- to the universe, to the spirit land.
Music can connect us there- composers can take us there. They take our soul and show it to itself, then let it dance, or rumble or dwell in a waiting place and in this place we can see into a new place. Maybe we can reach for invisible hands into the Infinite.
This weekend- spent an entire two days writing. This is close to heaven. I have decided how to market this new piece I write which gives me great excitement. To be an artist is so hard because you have to depart and do business at the end of the day. I find when i spend my thoughts on how to get out my story, I can no longer feel my writing.
Why market it? I have others I have let sit for a decade. Who knows who might find consolation in a story- why not reach an audience. i wrote a recent work- What a Soul- for one person. He used it to prepare a talk for the memorial of his and my friend who was that Soul. Then he died too. I was at a loss of what to do next so I worked on this piece more and still have a few things to add. Would I market this piece? O no! So, not everything is 'for sale'. i will show it to his daughters, I think.
Are my poems for sale. Heavens forbid this. My poems are just butterflies about my garden of friends. I hope they like some of them.
Now- it is day and frigid is this day, a walk down to town, a sip of hot cocoa and errands to do, the bank, the post office, and maybe i shall buy something, too. A pretty peasant blouse!
Adieu.
But I am a writer, and above all, this means more tome than anything. I feel in my gut there is something to say, and when i don't have this i will find something else to do. I am going to return soon to my healing and music work, in context of writing about these, that is next, but for now, tis a few more memoirs to finish. I watch children in between writing, and also teach and I am a direct care professional but i am leaving these corporate designations behind and i want to be simply in love with healing and seeing into what is important to healing which is connection- to the universe, to the spirit land.
Music can connect us there- composers can take us there. They take our soul and show it to itself, then let it dance, or rumble or dwell in a waiting place and in this place we can see into a new place. Maybe we can reach for invisible hands into the Infinite.
This weekend- spent an entire two days writing. This is close to heaven. I have decided how to market this new piece I write which gives me great excitement. To be an artist is so hard because you have to depart and do business at the end of the day. I find when i spend my thoughts on how to get out my story, I can no longer feel my writing.
Why market it? I have others I have let sit for a decade. Who knows who might find consolation in a story- why not reach an audience. i wrote a recent work- What a Soul- for one person. He used it to prepare a talk for the memorial of his and my friend who was that Soul. Then he died too. I was at a loss of what to do next so I worked on this piece more and still have a few things to add. Would I market this piece? O no! So, not everything is 'for sale'. i will show it to his daughters, I think.
Are my poems for sale. Heavens forbid this. My poems are just butterflies about my garden of friends. I hope they like some of them.
Now- it is day and frigid is this day, a walk down to town, a sip of hot cocoa and errands to do, the bank, the post office, and maybe i shall buy something, too. A pretty peasant blouse!
Adieu.