I have a ticket to see LP…But I Won’t Be Going……

I have a ticket  to see LP in London for this Friday . I love LP as much as I loved Kate Bush when I was very young. I saw all Kate’s rehearsals at the Rainbow Theatre back in the day …..met her and all that jazz when I was a teenage runaway. I had the chance to see her more recent show. I couldn’t go. Mentally I couldn’t go. I can’t go to the LP gig. It’s difficult to explain why I can’t leave my Trailer. I don’t see the point of explaining my multiple issues to people. Why would they care? It’s all ‘caring about yourself’ in the 21st century. I don’t have agoraphobia….I don’t hate the human race (I prefer animals) but it’s one of those months where I can’t trust myself not to lie down in traffic, can’t trust myself enough to have the attention span to look before I cross a road. So there you go…..

Art/Therapy

I’ve found a dozen drawings I did for my therapist a couple of years ago, ‘to explain my mood this week.’ I wasn’t keen on explaining it in numbers (explain your mood: one to ten)….especially as I have dyscalculia….and numbers are meaningless to me. I can’t say he appreciated them….but I did them anyway. It’s interesting for me to look back at them….

Let Down….and I Will Survive…..

Gloria Gaynor….you made it all so simple! Being let down by people you don’t care about is Water off a Duck’s Back isn’t it? Being let down by People You Thought Were on Your Side….is a bit tougher. But…here we all are…. And there are so many Other People Out There…..who Step Up…..so here we all are ……Doing Much Better than Merely Surviving……

Respect

To get respect, you have to show respect don’t you? I think I’m respectful of others. I think that it’s often at the cost of respecting myself. The way this plays out in my life is that I ‘let people off the hook’ too easily, too often. When people make me promises, in my head I’ve already realised they probably won’t come through with them. I make excuses for them even before they let me down. Of course they have to ‘do their own stuff’….of course they have ‘their problems’….My childhood taught me that my needs were never going to be anyone’s priority. I find it very hard to put myself first. Mostly because….I don’t want to…..

Sunday Self Portrait

I remember when Sunday was a hollow day. Lonely. That was when the rest of the week was so vibrant with people and life….that in contrast it felt empty. I didn’t know how to fill it. Now, every day is Sunday. And I love it.

Doing a thing ….my own way…

Long ago, drawing under the kitchen table while all kinds of chaos surrounded me….I realised in order to escape it….I had only to draw what was in my head. I was too young to think about where that would take me, far too young to care. It is still my only escape.

Doing what I do best….and not bothering with the rest….

I’ve given up FB for Lent….or forever….time will tell. I’ve given up other things too. Relying on people (I gave up on that a long time ago, but sometimes I need to remind myself.) The thing about FB is…it’s a very crowded room, with everyone talking at the top of their voices. And I don’t like crowded rooms, loud voices….or the way everyone becomes cartoons of themselves.
I’m going to go back to just doing the things I can do: Art. Writing. Caring for animals.
And avoid the things I can’t do: Fitting in. Self-promoting. Believing what people say.

Once Again

Having completed (if anything can be said to be ‘completed’….) another cycle of work, I’ve fallen into the inevitable depression (inevitable for me, I can’t speak for anyone else.) It doesn’t feel pointless. What it does is remind me that no one is invested in me, no one is sticking their neck out for me. And this I think is why I always feel free (or floundering maybe) I know that some people care, I know that some people think I am talented. But the freedom/floundering comes from knowing that I’m a mass/mess of dots that can be joined in any number of ways if people choose to. But no one really needs to make that effort, because no one is invested in me. Ergo, I am free/floundering.

Addiction

Have I mentioned ‘I am not a silent poet’ webzine? Maybe…..it’s worth checking out…and seeing if some of your poems are a fit…if you are a submitter….or if you like that kind of  writing as a reader. This is one of my poems that went up on the site a few months ago. I’m on with a project…art/writing….so it came up today:

Addiction

Clouds lower, proving the curves of sky in broad strokes.
Sea should soothe, its enviable power override the black dog
bounding towards me. I watch sprite shadows scamper

along sea walls, see him hook twin trout wriggling
on the end of taut lines, reeling them in, hugging
their slippery bodies.  I no longer lust after him;

my addiction to unreality, found at the bottom of wine bottles,
gives me extra layers of skin as he flays them.
We’re angry as gulls squabbling over ham baked by the sun.

Doing My Own Thing….(some would say, shooting myself in the foot)

I’m working towards an exhibition/event. This is one of twenty hand -drawn ink covers…each of which contains a random group of eight of my poems. They will form part of the exhibition. I’m hoping to do some printed versions from the originals….to sell to fund the exhibition. What could go wrong?  Nobody giving a fook I suppose. I don’t have the time or people skills to create a fan base…..