Bartering

In a previous life, I’m pretty sure I perfected the art of bartering. It doesn’t fail me, even in the 21st century. I’m not great at the 21st century. Bartering is the ideal system for me. Based on a very important and flexible system, where value doesn’t involve exchange of money, it seems more equal. I’m naive about exchange of goods for money, though I recognise it has made the world ‘spin around’ for centuries.

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……

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.

I Will Not Be Silenced

I’m having chats with a printer person….looking through tons of my images….for a few ideas I’ve had. I’m okay with coming up with ideas, but I get distracted by doing the actual ‘work’…the drawings….and am not great at getting them a home. She thinks this one might  make an interesting ‘business card’ (I don’t have a ‘business’ really….but as I can never remember my phone number….it might be useful)

Too Late

My life has few consistencies, but it has one consistency since I got older: things arrive too late. I’m thinking in particular about opportunities and rewards, which are so tardy in arriving that I’ll have gone past caring by the time they turn up.

Attracting what we Fear

I believe we attract the very thing we fear and want to avoid. Probably by feeding it with attention and energy. I think we keep repeating lessons until we understand the message. I think life is primarily about learning. I believe we carry all of our learning into our  next lives. I won’t label that belief with ‘reincarnation’. I would like to avoid labels . I believe labels are a convenient way  for other people to squash us.

At this point in time I’m living in a trailer on a trailer park. The surroundings are beautiful, BUT I have a vindictive next door neighbour who is trying to get me ousted. This is not paranoia. Yesterday a friend on the trailer park came over to tell me that Jill is hammering on doors and trying to get neighbours on her side. I’ve done nothing wrong.

This is not the first time this has happened. That fact doesn’t mean I’m doing anything wrong. It means the thing that I most fear, being kicked out of my home is on a constant repeat cycle.

I’m happy with the kind of minimum, undecorated, mish-mash of an existence a huge swathe of my friends would be horrified by. But I really need to feel secure in the place I live. I need to feel (and it to be the case) that I can stay somewhere for as long as I want.

When I feel Really, Really Bad……….

When I feel really, really bad I deactivate Facebook. I don’t have the energy for other people’s lives if I barely have energy for my own. Facebook feels like spilling to a fairly wide audience, whereas my blog is pretty much a private journal. A couple of people will see it, but won’t feel the need to comment, they don’t know me, so my ridiculous thoughts are just released from my chest and i feel calmer.
Much as I do ‘things’….I write, get published…I ‘art’  (drawing and painting keep me as sane as I’ll ever be)….. I also don’t do things. I rarely see people. I don’t ‘go out’….except with my dogs. Noodles and Chicken are my pack. I’m a member of a pack. So when Noodles got savaged by a Staffy three and a half weeks ago, it was one of the most horrible things I’ve witnessed. Yesterday…after weeks of worry, vet visits, pet hospital visits and admission, surgery,  panic…. I was reassured that the wound has healed well…the puncture wounds too…his heart, lungs, respiration are back to normal. It’s a huge relief. My Trailer is back to normal….I flattened everything so Noodles couldn’t literally ‘bust a gut’. He is more anxious, I am a lot more anxious, on walks. The fact the attack happened a hundred yards from my home, that the dog that attacked pounded towards us along that hundred yard path to the High Street. The fact the owner is an idiot. Which is the thing. I haven’t had the energy to be angry about the idiot who wasn’t controlling his dog and walked away scot free because I was carrying my injured dog and looking along the road for my other dog who had slipped her harness in panic and raced off. While a passer-by took us to the emergency vet, that idiot went home with his dog. That idiot hasn’t had weeks of worry, travel, vet bills, sadness, horror at seeing his dog savaged. Now I am angry. Finally I am angry. I understand when some senseless idiot harms an innocent6 victim…how that victim needs to know the idiot was punished and prevented from ever doing that selfish stupid act again.

Poem: A Daughter by Karen Little

Bonnie's Crew

A Daughter

A daughter is born as clouds form sea spray. Cast off,
she skims surfaces, defies gravity.

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