2017: One Day Ponderings

Jan 1, 2017

He's a challenge that a lot of writers and artists take on:  One blog posting a day/One piece of art a day.  I've taken this challenge back in 2014?  I posted one a day for a few days then decided once a month was enough, which last maybe two?  So here I am, three years later.  We'll see how it goes.  No pressure but I have been thinking a lot about the act of commitment.  Doing what you say you're going to do.  Commitment in relationships.  Commitment to self.

I listened to a song today, Joan Baez singing Diamonds and Rust and I was overcome by a distant night int he Santa Monica Mountains with friends.  We all ditched the kids, those of us with them, and gathered for a grownup, overnight camping trip in the mountains above LA.  My old home.  A place I miss very much.  As the song filled the Ocean Blue from here in Austin,  my heart was transported back to a magical evening, the plus years ago.

"Just listening to Joan Baez sing Diamonds and Rust and it brought me back to one of the most magical evenings I've experienced, nestled in the Santa Monica Mountains with the best of the best. Judith Lewis sang this ballad, strumming her guitar, lit by a blanket of stars as my heart broke open wide. That night she fell in love with Billy or shortly after. We shared a delicious platter of food that I magically produced from my trunk and shared stories and laughter and love well into the night. Happy New Year! I love you  Erika Schickel,  Doug FreemanMara Schonerr, Mark YardasCatherine SmallPhillip Rosenberg and the rest of you lovelies. That was a damn good night!"

Memories are a lovely thing.



Jan. 2

Returning home from the One 2 One where I reconnected with Deb, decked out in her rock n roll chic while supporting Pat doing a Drummer's Talk.  All dudes.  King Crimson fans.  It was nice to slip on my new pair of finally fitted jeans and denim-out.  Deb made a nice plug in her introduction to a guy named Carlos who collects art, has a tequila business and supports medical weed, "and this is Elizabeth who is a famous artist and writer in town."  Thanks Deb.  Looks like Carlos is in the market for some big pieces and what's interesting is that Virginia and I moved the art around the house last night, redecorating and changing the energy in the rooms.  No coincidence that that intro happened tonight.  It's kind of cool to be aware of the gifts, exchanges and infinite possibilities that happen throughout the day.
I'm happy.  I'm actually feeling happy and hopeful that everything is going to be ok.  That I'm ok. I'm looking forward to tomorrow after being grateful for today.  That's new.  Not to much of that going on in 2016.

Went to yoga this morning.  That was a gift.  Met a friend after for coffee and conversation at Radio after. It was lovely.  She shared a whopping story that's going to be her memoir.  I begin helping her write it on Friday.  She handed me a bag.  A pair of black skinny jeans, a charcoal gray tank and a beautiful necklace she purchased in Canada.  It's a fossil.  Ancient.  Wrapped with a silver band hanging from a chain.  I love it.  Totally unexpected.  Another gift.  I get it.  I'm lucky.

Jan. 3

With the help of Virginia we tore apart the house and recreated an entire new space.  Shifted the energy. Making it my new home.  New beginnings.  It's always this optimistic at the beginning of the new year, right?  Let's see how I fare in the next few months.  No coincidence that Joni is singing The Circle Game. Thanks Apple.

I think I finally put a relationship to rest.  A huge part of cleaning out my personal house so I can move through life, grow, reach my potential and find a loving, committed man who value's every ounce of me.  That's not what I had but I kept going back "like an eager puppy dog, ready to please". Pathetic really but it's my nature to please, be needed, help and of course be loved.  But I kept getting kicked across the kitchen floor. I'd get a biscuit every now and then and would be starved, ignored, dismissed for days after.  It sucked and I finally got it.  This year, as my enthusiasm is at an all time high, is all about me.  There you go.

Text came in at 7:58  Miss You.

January 4

I went to the Bank of America earlier today rearrange money from one account to the other.  Something I do at the beginning of each month so I can Rob Paul to Pay Peter, or however that goes.  I parked in the back which is something I never do.  I opened the door and was distracted by a shiny pack of something not the ground but I bypassed it and continued on to the bank.  
when I returned, 10 minutes later, I again was distracted by the glistening package on the ground.  This time I picked it up, curious, "It couldn't be...".  It was.  A big fat bud with gold and red threads.  Impend to it to take a sniff.  Yup.  The outside of the myelin-like, zip lock baggie was labeled "Golden Goat".  I looked it up.  It's good.  I smoked some later that night.  It's good.  Another gift.  An ounce of medical M. as notified by my son, he did the research.  Not bad.

January 5

Back slumming it in the school system,  I realize how much I hate noise and how effected I am by it and what I mean by that is that I'm ready to blow up some heads.  Only saving grace was coming home to chain smoke and sit in my beautiful, new improved home.

January 6

Friday.  Really?  Where did the week go.  I sat tonight with two friends moving through our week as I helped direct them to create their intention boards for 2017 and we all realized that one week ago, tomorrow--New Years Eve--seems like a year ago.  I'm not sure why.  What makes this week different?  Did I completely let go?  I explained I thought I MOVED forward.  MOVED.  Maybe no longer stuck in the dar hole of sadness, confusion and dismissal.  Maybe it was enough not to answer to phone.  have a conversation.  Stop in.  freedom.  I need to remember that because with all addictions, I can slip.  Go back.  Be in something that doesn't feed me, recognize me, love me.  Fuck that. 

January 7

You're easy to ignore if no one ever knew.
POOF!
It's hard to disappear if you never existed in the first place.
Seriously, New Orleans?  You have "friends" you can stay with?
I don't know why I wished him the best.  Honestly, I'm to good.  
Walk. A. Way.
A slow moving train wreck.  You.  Not me.  I'm good now.

January 10

That didn't take long to fall off the wagon.  So rather than lie, I'm just going admit I skipped a few days.  I'm not sure why.  I think about it and for some reason the computer is too hard to open, log on, actually think about something to write.  So I log onto Netflix and watch the AO, which has been kind of interesting.  I do like Brit Marland.  I find her acting style very understated.

So let me see...today is Tuesday.  I thought it was Wednesday.  To play catch up, I'll fill you in on Sunday which was the 8th.  Dinner with Phil who is always engaging and stress free.  What was validating and totally in the flow of my vision board and acceptance of self thanks to the NYC Shaman, I'm on the right track.  The piece hanging in the Long Center has been getting some really great feedback.  Apparently no one is dropping the coin because I don't have a big name.  Yet.  Good news is, more shows down the road where my abstract figurative motif could fit in.  Also, he bought a painting but that didn't happen until the following day.

Yesterday, the 10th wasn't very eventful. I went to work, a half hour late because I got the time schedule of the two schools mixed up.  They're very chill here at O'Henry and I like that.  Everyone is super nice.  I can come and go.  Oh, the interview never happened with Ashley.  I wonder if that's because I'm not supposed to be doing anything else.  I'm not sure why a part time job is so difficult to book.

Phillip asked about the painting and then decided to buy it.  You know, it couldn't go to a better home.  He really, really likes and it's the painting that launched our friends while ending another.  

Texts to self:  

You wouldn't have been more clear (in between sots of tequila) when you were able to speak.  Able key word.  Got it.

You can't miss me because I was no where to begin with.  

I'm not sure why I'm spending so much time on this other than it makes interesting material for future projects.  Example:  Blue was my weekend with you (novella).  The Deconstruction of a Relationship (painting). 

Couple of paintings I whipped off the first week of the New Year:


 Gratuit et Facile

Au revoir mon cher


They're getting a little lighter, no?  A bit more breezy.  A reflection, always, of the place I'm in and right now it's a great place to be.  Living with EASE.

January 12

I just took off my glasses and walked outside and realized I'm the blindest I've ever been.  Should I be concerned?

January 22

Ten days later.  I'm really falling off the wagon here.  Obviously I need more work in the commitment arena.

So four days ago, my son calls to say he's going abroad to study on a sale boat.  All expenses paid.  What?  Who?  I'm like, Awesome, but what about your current tuition, car insurance, apartment, rowing?  He's like, Cant you just be happy for me?  I'm like, Sure.  I'm very happy for you.  You just need to get some stuff done if you're actually getting on a plane in three days.  Fuck.  Always the mother.  Always micromanaging, although to my credit, I really stayed out of this one.  Let the parent on the other end handle all the details that might have slipped through Max's fingers.

The trip ensued.  Man child flew in last night and I was able to have a very short, yet completely lovely 3 hour visit with him last night and a brief 8 minutes this morning.

We touched base at home and then went out to dinner at the Hillside Farmacy for oysters and an incredible homemade butternut squash ravioli.  Without alcohol, still 100 bucks but worth it.  Then I dropped him off at his friend Shays, who came out to give me a hug because the kid carries a torch for me, and that marked the beginning of Ma'xs social rounds in town.  

We're up at 4am, I remind him.  So not too late.

Right right, he says.  Love you.  Goodbye.  I think I wrote somewhere last night how great it feels to finally be the "guest parent". All sugar.  

Not being able to sleep, I text at midnight, 4 more hours until we get up!  He responds right away, Yah, I know but I'm going up to see Max.  He got into trouble.  The trip is off.  What?????  Call Me, I text.
Apparently other Max's dad got pissed at his Max and said he can't go on the trip.  I later learned that the paper work was not complete and he didn't finish the interview.  The guys from SeaMester were like, Yah, we're not taking you.  Your'e not serious.  What does that mean for you?? I control from screeching. Well, dad talked to Jerry and he's sending me any way.  (Wish I was a fly on the wall for that conversation   probably triggered Lou's angina). WOW.  Just WOW.  I'm sure the story was longer but the gist is, Max drove up there with Joey to have a talk because he says no one communicates cleary on the phone.  Oh really?  I think I've been saying that for years...I thought worst case, other Max OD'd.  Turns out he just smoked pot and the dad got pissed and the trip was off.  Kind of see why the kid was being sent away in the first place?

As of 4 am this morning, the trip is on for Max and now Jerry is flying to St. Thomas with them to convince these guys on the sail boat that it's a packages deal.  Can't take one without the other.  But did you hear that?  Jerry is now FLYING with them to go have a talk with the Captain, professor guy.  Money. Period.  So as I'm making scrambled eggs with jalapeño, heirloom tomatoes and Asagio cheese, sandwiching it all between a toasted, wheat english muffin, they roll into the driveway at 5:30 this morning in a cranberry red Tesla.  One hour before departure.  Max comes in to pick up his bags, I go outside to deliver my bag of breakfast for the boys and introduce myself to the father for the first time, who is now flying to the Islands with the boys to get his son on that boat and probably write another check in addition to the 40k he just spent.  Hi, I'm Elizabeth, Here's breakfast.  Thank you so much for this gift.  he says, Oh, we've never met?  I said, never. Well, You're son is amazing.  Thank you, I say.

The visit was short and sweet with no hysteria or dramatics on my end.  Funny how it all worked out.  The house is now quiet as the wind howls out side.

Meanwhile, yesterday pre-boy arrival, I marched for women against Trump downtown and was inspired for the first time in a long time.  They expected 40k but people said it was more like 60K and then I heard 100K.  Regardless, it was a shitload of people, from TEXAS, in TEXAS.  So it bought me a little more time in this state. 

Later that night, after dinner, I met a friend at Gray Duck Gallery to view photographs of manufactured digestive organs and hair balls.  Delightful.

The ten days prior to my last post...I sold a painting.  I'm slumming at school but kind of inspired by a reading I had the other night which goes along with what the Shaman said...It's all right in front of me.  Head out of the clouds.  The clearing has been completed. Time for action.  Move actively and it will all be mine.  Art.  Writing,  Money.  Love.
Speaking of love, sticking firm with the departure from man.  The further away I go, tick tock, tick tock, the better I feel and  I'm struck repeatedly with WTF was I thinking?

I think I'm even gaining weight.  Finally.



Reunion With Man Child



January 30,

Tick Tock.  Property taxes and I would certainly love to spend that money on something like, I don't know, a vacation.  Paris is coming to mind.  Maybe because I watched a french film with a very attractive friend last night and it was kind of sexy and romantic, which was nice to FEEL and a bit of a surprise. So there's that, plus I'd just like to get the hell out of here.  

Child never went out to sea although he did have a rather swanky vacation in St. Thomas.  He's back home, taking a winter break I guess before heading back to CA to get back into school, work, create his life.  It's funny, I feel very little attachment.  He's doing his thing.  I'm doing mine.

It helps he's staying somewhere else.  Vacation parent is a role that suits me well!

The last week is foggy.  Rolling from one day to another in and out.  I have one day to get my manuscript in.  Hit send.  Bang.  Gone.