From Aug 31, 2009

“Ash, when we were on the way home to our mom’s, I saw a real live owl on the top of a house!”

“Oh yeah, Tyler?”

“Yeah!”

“I saw it, too,” says Kora.

“No you didn’t.   Well if you did, what color was it?”

“Pink.”

“There’s no such thing as pink owls.”

“Yes there are.”

“No.  There are black and brown and white and gray owls, but not pink owls.  Not real life ones.”

“Yes huh, in the olden days, there were pink ones.”

“No.  In the olden days, there were a lot fewer colors,” says Tyler, “Mostly… there were…”

And I’m agreeing with the boy so far, curious to hear what he says next…

“In the olden days, mostly, there were only black and white.”

From Aug 25, 2009

“I’ve got a golden ticket, la la la la laaaaah la. ”

We’re sort of in a holding pattern.  We’re waiting for the doors to open, and we suspect that we know the vesicle in which we will ride.  There are big things happening, but there’s no point in harvesting the ideas before they’ve hatched.

I’m thinking a lot about my next step(s).  My future is being filled with semi-permeable plans.  So many avenues.  And there’s really nothing that can stop me from doing what I’m going to do– the effort is there, the path is there, and the bravery to go without a flashlight is turned on.

But… what’s next?

The sky is the limit, really.  I can do whatever I want.  In the mean time, I’m bracing myself for the party I’m about to throw.  It should be very good.  I’m excited!

Then?  Well…

I’ve got plans made almost a week in advance.  Living day to day is nice.

From Aug 25, 2009

“Maybe you just need a real writer to write your book for you.”

Granted, this woman has likely never read anything I’ve ever written.  I let it roll off my skin as though it wasn’t her intention to pierce me that way.  I figured, “how can one judge if they’ve never experienced it?”

And in many facets, I realize there’s no point in being hurt by assumptions from folks who merely think they know you.  It’s pointless energy being spent.

But goddammit.

From Aug 20, 2009

Today, medical technology will save my BFF’s life. Sending a huge thank you to the universe and to the docs who will help with this. They don’t know exactly how awesome the woman is that they’re saving, but I do. And pssst…. Cancer? You little fucker…. You can kiss our collective ASS!!! We’re stronger than you.

From Aug 3, 2009

I’m sorry for your loss.  I truly am.  I wasn’t trying to make light of your pain.  Only trying to really wrap my own brain around the tragedy that happened.  Which is what it was, a tragedy.

I blog.  I have more than a thousand entries here in this domain.  Every ounce of every post in this is personal.  My thoughts, my dreams, my wishes, the stories I make up, and the observations I make in my daily life.   Yes, some people read what I write.  Most people do not.  Most people I know have no desire to read what I write– but this is my media.  Had I drawn a picture, painted a canvas, or taken a photograph, would it have been the same to you?  Not likely, but you might not see the written word as a platform for emotional expression the way that I do.

THIS is my art.  And the internet is a public place.  I understand now that I must change the names.  I understand that it’s too risky to use real names because it can be interpreted through a lens of emotion that might hurt those people I care about.  I took down what offended you.  I can’t say that I won’t change the names and re-post it, though.  That piece is as real to me as what happened to you, because it is mine, it is a part of my emotional experience.

Again, I’m sorry.  I wasn’t meaning to hurt you.