Rough @ MindSay 
Adelaide, Adelaide, Adelaide the ghost girl -- her toes are springy and she loves to sit on the edge of things. She was brought up proper but constantly slips out of being a lady. She never grew up, really. And she never really, really died. She's just in between bodies.
She's looking at you, you know.
Thea is a dress-up-mix-and-match Lolita Goth kinda gal. She doesn't follow any rules, really. Why am I even trying to label her? She's her own kind of creature. She'd hate me putting her in a box. One thing she always wears: ribbons. She looks good in ribbons.
She didn't start out looking quite that ribbon-y...
The primary sketch had Thea in a more conventional tight jeans and sweater look. I'm still not sure what looks more dramatic. When I traced this down on bristol I really began to dislike the stiff against-the-fence pose because it resembled too many poses I see in magazines. I tend to be very inspired by fashion and collect many magazines. I didn't exactly want to advertise that fact. Inspiration, influences, what I see all the time, what I wish to look like... sometimes that bleeds into my drawings, into characters, into my writing.
As I write this, I'm listening to a lot of old school metal and I look at this drawing of Alexandre and realize I've given him hair band hair. Well, not really, it's just the music in my ears right now that's influencing what I'm writing. Alex does have a manly-man body here. He's really turning into a pretty boy. I like that. He's a pretty boy who likes to dress up like Thea does. He occasionally wears top hats, frock coats, and silk pants. People think he's fruit-loopy but actually he's got an eye for the old fashioned. He loves antiques. He's just inherited a very, very old and spooky house from his great aunt Marjolie. He hasn't had many sleepy nights since.
What has awakened Alex this time? Someday maybe I'll reveal that. For now you'll just have to stare into the blank parts of the paper a bit and imagine what monsters, demons, or ghosts are lurking behind Alex's head.
Speaking of monsters? Egads, friends, there isn't enough of them I can't draw, yet mine often show up with human faces first. Grimalkin (below) is looking rather chatty, doesn't she?
As I write, Motley Crue's song "Looks That Kill" is playing and I think Grimie really likes that song. I mean, she does have looks that kill, but not in the way you'd expect. Cuteness, petiteness, a silly smile, a slight glance of sharp teeth beyond pillowy lips glossed up bright and strawberry... You can easily write her off as harmless. As harmless as a kitten, right? She even wears a collar. She likes being petted, too, however... never, ever dare to underestimate her. One second she's all purr, the next she's towering over you like a mountain lion on steroids. Yowch.
Well, my classic hard rock soundtrack is still blaring into my ears and this time I'm listening to the tail end of Dokken's "Heaven Sent" -- we skip forward to "Dream Warriors" and Melusine here seems to step out of a smoke-filled music video set. I think she was a model during the 80's, but then again, she's been so many things over the years.
I rub my eyes and sigh. Have I drawn and written too much? Where is this all getting me? Am I just entertaining myself? I'm growing weary now with the weight of all the stories I long to tell. Maybe someday soon I'll get the green light to publish this stuff for real. Yeah. Some girls dream of prince charmings, I dream of getting my art and stories accepted for publication. Been having that dream for over twenty years now. I have to go home and dream some more.
Sometimes, but only sometimes, I wish I had a boyfriend or crush to write about. But lately every time I attempt to nurture a crush on someone, I grow disillusioned. I guess I can only handle romantic fantasies created by my own hands... OH, wait. Once again I've walked into an innuendo I didn't mean to make. *giggles* I'm outta here!
Started out fine; I walked in high energy, ready for the day. At about 8:15, I started to feel really nervous; not sure why. Kind of like the nervous I felt some mornings when Z was still part of our classroom and I was worried about him getting hurt or him hurting someone else. No clear reason for it, but a definite feeling. By the time the bell rang, and E and A walked in 10 minutes later, I was NOT in the mood to deal with kids. And I NEVER feel that way. Claudia had A reading a book, and Parker and E were playing chess, and I just sat at the back table, writing and in a fog.
Grace was testing which means there was no group, so I sat in the hall for 20 minutes trying to force myself to feel better to work with AB. AB did not feel well so he was in the nurse for a bit, and then they worked on their poetry presentation, so my hour in there was pretty worthless. I checked in with Kate, hoping today would be the day we got to have our meeting, but Eileen had gone home sick, so we talked quickly, and I went to my room. I told Claudia (with her ADORABLE new haircut) about how Claire had cornered me and told me we have to test E a bit for the meeting on Thursday (after we just told him ‘no more tests rest of the year!’ SHIT).
So I went to the staffroom to copy tests from the math text to have E answer a few questions tomorrow to see where he’s at. I’m copying while Cynthia (ENC’s teacher) comes in to tell me that ENC told her mom that she was feeling overwhelmed and that the work I’m giving her might be a little too hard. It wasn’t said as a criticism of me, and it wasn’t mean, and it’s hella important to know, but considering all morning I was being criticized in some way (even Claudia joking about how we never have SS so my unit has gone NOWHERE, and then Kate and Eileen’s complaint about being 5 minutes late), it was apparently too much. I went to the café, stayed a grand total of 2 minutes, and then walked out and headed into our break room and cried for a good 10 minutes. I pulled myself together briefly when E came into the room to get the basketball, but I wasn’t ready to face kids. Claudia came in to hug me and tell me I was actually doing an excellent job even if I felt really beaten and ineffective. “Not many people could do half as good a job as you do their FIRST year teaching”; but I still have such high standards for myself and I put a lot of pressure on myself…I know this is probably ridiculous, but it’s truth.
We decided to go outside. E and A were playing together (SO cute and needed). ENC and I had an honest chat, but she was upset about a girl at recess telling her she was bad at kickball because KC (one of her bros) is bad at it, so that coupled with my talk made HER cry which almost made ME cry some more. And then for our art period, A had a huge tantrum, laid on the floor for 15 minutes, and drained the last bit of my energy. Was able to turn it around near the end, back to the 11-year old I know and love, but wow; hasn’t had that bad an art class in a LONG time.
Is today over yet? I am EXHAUSTED and I still feel really weepy. I'm a crier, definitely, but today just felt different. It's only the 2nd or 3rd day that my job has been the source of my tears, which is impressive for me, but... I'm okay if today is the last day I cry about school for the 2008-2009 school year. More than okay. I think I'd actually pay for it.
For those who have been following my blog, this I tell you guys keeps my pen feverishly working overtime – thank you for being there and making it all worthwhile, you all know what happened in December last year. My family lost a husband and father to diabetes complications. He was only 63.
Life indeed is not a bed of roses no matter how hard you work at it to make it so. Yes, you may get comfy and content sometimes happy for awhile but round the corner life will rear its ugly head seize you down and try to keep you there.
Is that a pessimistic view of life I’m taking? Not really. I’ve written so much on positivity and a can-do attitude towards life that being pessimistic so suddenly is quite absurd. But it is a realistic view of life ---as presented by life itself.
If indeed life isn’t a ‘bed of roses’, where therefore shall I plant my --- Rose Garden?
If life does not promise me joy and happiness, where therefore shall I search or go looking for that?
There hadn’t been many a time in the history of this old lady here (yea, I’ll be 62 in June) where I would wish to stay forever in utter bliss. To make a long story short, the rough beaten path or the so-called road less traveled (not the book) was the one laid out for me to journey through. I’ve got scars to show for having gone that way – in the mind, heart, and soul.
And another one, this time a bigger one, bruised me deep last December.
Looking back at all that transpired then now pins my heart down with a heaviness ---one which I think would take awhile to lift off and cast away. But they say that part of healing is going back to the pain, come to terms with it and then resolutely move towards bringing that chapter of one’s life to a close.
Going back to those difficult times of our lives always brings tears to our eyes—my eyes. My family and I miss many things of the family we once were with him. It was not a perfect family we knew that, in fact it had more rugged hills or steep mountains or deep valleys which took us careening wildly after every bout with it… but it was a family, our family. So when we saw the trend he was taking with his health condition which took him in and out of hospitals at short intervals through that year, we sensed a foreboding that something rough and tough was waiting up ahead. I was scared for my family.
And it came. It began in November and ended in his final days of December. He died on December 9 and we buried him on the 14th.
With him gone, a void took his place in our life – an empty space, an empty place… and
… a new set of FIRSTS.
- Our first Christmas without him
- Our first New Year celebration without him
- Celebrating his birthday without him
- Our first weekend bonding without him
- Our first Family birthdays to be celebrated without him
- Our first Palm Sunday without him with his usual purchase of a blessed palm frond
- Our first Bisita Iglesia on Maundy Thursday without him leading the prayers with us
- Our first Easter Sunday without him in church with us
- Our first summer without him
- My first wedding anniversary without him
- And several more FIRSTS as life moves us along without him
But as a wise God has so arranged it magnificently… I have found my seeds now for my Rose Garden. Oh yes, it’s there on that list of firsts.
Seeds of…
- Family
- Closeness
- Love
- Faith
- Strength
- Hope
- Resilience
- Grit
- Spirit
- Laughter
- Courage
- Guts
- Compassion
- Kindness
- Care
- Bond
- Friendship
- Loyalty
- Devotion
- And even more new seeds are sprouting with each day, I can see.
This month, the third month after December, my Rose Garden will be planted. I have all the seeds I need and even more. One day soon those precious seeds nurtured and loved will transform into gorgeous blossoms of life and living. And from these my happiness will grow.
May God bless my Rose Garden.
WOW! What a Thwacky Thursday! I thought the work day would never end! Today we had so much traffic through the office I thought I would see a State Trooper at a desk!
Tomorrow is Pay Day...also known as Pay Bills Day!
I am going home to rest my brain and bones!
I wish I could share a cup of tea with the lady in the picture! Ah, tis good to dream!
Having a drink with one's self is a momentary bliss. Somehow you find a spot where you can be alone and uninterrupted. You ease into your own thoughts. You revel in the fact that there truly is such a thing as a moment of silence. Everything around you comes to a complete lull and you can actually hear yourself think. The drink is just an accessory.
A drink with myself is an infrequent but personal celebration. Sometimes I celebrate the fact that I caught every green light on the way to work or, that I got a free coffee because the cash register was jammed. For me, it's that simple. So,to you I say, celebrate the small things and have a drink--alone.
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