tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86165917982913025332024-02-06T21:56:05.217-05:00Tiny DancerTiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.comBlogger90125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-31964461530856644452015-10-30T09:14:00.001-04:002015-11-09T07:05:03.041-05:00Anger<br />
During her childhood my youngest often asked, "Are you mad mommy?' This question seemed odd, I didn't think I was mad. I certainly didn't feel mad at my kids at the time this was asked. Looking back I should have tried to figure out why my kids thought I was often angry, but I didn't.<br />
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Shortly after the depression lifted, I was at a bank trying to deal with my mortgage. I went to one branch and they sent me to another. The second branch sent me to a third and they suggested I go to the branch which had issued the mortgage. It was very frustrating. As I left the bank I saw the glass door leading to the parking lot. All I wanted to do was kick it so hard the door shattered. Had I acted on it you would have seen RAGE, footage on the 6 o'clock news and probably a broken foot! Instead I opened the door, walked to my car, and sat, amazed at these rather out-of-control emotions! It was an "ah ha" moment, where I got why my youngest had asked so many times, "Are you mad mommy?" I was. I had a huge well of anger which had been stuck under the lid of depression all those years.<br />
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Anger scares the hell out of me. I avoid it at all costs. Arguments and heated disagreements between anyone are scary too. Recently I was with my youngest. She was upset about things I had done in her childhood. I said, it's ok to be angry with me. But as she said, it really isn't. She can't express her anger at me. No one can. Not even me. I'm not exactly sure what will happen. Will the world explode into a million pieces? Will I? What about the other people?<br />
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And because anger is so scary, when I feel anger and can't sort it out, I revert to what was always the acceptable behavior from my childhood -- be sad, be depressed, be quiet, tamp the anger down. I really need to find a better solution!<br />
<br />Rose Brier Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09411800366855319730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-29944092537805699182015-10-29T07:36:00.000-04:002015-11-06T05:57:23.649-05:00Overcoming the Habits of Depression<br />
In 1992 I took to my bed and didn't/couldn't get up for two weeks. It was then that I acknowledged I was probably suffering from depression. I actually wasn't unhappy, just debilitated. I read, I wrote in my journal, I tried to figure it all out. This episode was set off by someone else defining me -- and me not standing up for what I want.<br />
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The trigger occurred while I was at a wholesale gift show with people from an antique co-op I was part of. They were celebrity hounds. They were going to hang out outside The Golden Globes awards and watch for actors. I really didn't want to go. I went to college with Robin Williams; the producer of<i> Dr Kildare</i> was the father of a close friend of mine; the son of the actress who played Josephine the Plummer on those commercials was in my 4th grade class, To me, celebrities are ordinary people with high profile jobs . . . and I was hungry! But they said, "Of course you want to go, you'll have fun." I didn't argue. I just let them define me. Instead of saying, no I don't want to do this, I went. It was cold. I was hungry. I didn't care about seeing celebrities. And as the night wore on and I didn't have a way to get back to our hotel, I got more and more miserable.<br />
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My life might have turned out a whole lot better if I had acknowledge how LIVID I was. If I had just blown up, gotten mad, thrown things, not apologized for any of it and carried on. Or if I had gone to therapy to see why this had triggered such a response. But I didn't. In my family it was never ok to be angry, while crying and miserable was perfectly acceptable.<br />
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In 2001 I had a healing of the depression. It was wonderful. The world looked to be a whole lot brighter place, literally. I no longer heard the tape saying I was lazy, in fact it was (and still is) very quiet in my head. It was very evident to me, my husband, and my kids that a healing had occurred!<br />
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But since that time things have happened that have been tough for me. Relationship woes, which I wrote about two years ago. Mom issues, which are currently calling for my attention. Everyone involved knows I'm no longer depressed. That is nice. But the healing is incomplete. When I am sad, this habit of acting like a depressed person takes over. It is affecting my ability to get things done and more importantly it is affecting my most precious relationship with my kids. <br />
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So I am committed to sorting this out. I know a therapist. I will write, which always shows me what is really going on with me. I will study and pray. You're invited to come along as I find a way to live the life I want.<br />
<br />Rose Brier Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09411800366855319730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-77892106592988430802015-10-26T09:20:00.002-04:002015-11-09T06:59:52.880-05:00Getting My Life in Order<br />
Three weeks ago I started an online course entitled <a href="http://www.susannahconway.com/e-courses/blogging-from-the-heart/">Blogging from the Heart</a>. Now in general, I like taking classes. I'm not always real good at finishing them, but I always start out quite gung ho.* This course started the same, great enthusiasm, lots of note taking and pondering. Then I noticed something wonderful: I kept going! I have read all the lessons so far. I have done all the exercises. And the weekends are a little sad because there are no lessons then! It's a first for me. The only thing I hadn't done is write a new blog post.<br />
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Monday thru Friday I get a lovely message in my inbox from Susannah Conway, with a lesson pertaining to that week's topic. So far I have examined blogs I love; written a mission statement; examined why I want to blog; and discovered the unasked, but for me, more important question, "why did you <u>start</u> your blog?" I have also looked at who I am writing for, finding my voice, being original and being vulnerable, plus getting all sorts of tips on writing, etc. This course is amazing!<br />
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Today when I opened the email I was particularly struck by the encouragement --<br />
" . . . <i>hopefully you feel a little more comfortable about sharing your heart on your blog." </i><br />
So I came over here, because this is a blog where I have shared my heart. And I realized this is still a blog where I want to share my heart. It has been two years since I posted here. My last series of posts were cathartic. But also wrung me out. I guess I needed the break.<br />
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This morning I read those old posts and knew it was time to get my life together, as it is now. New issues. And to do that I think I need to be a lot kinder to myself. I have a lot of things I want to accomplish and a tendency, when overwhelmed, to stay in bed, read, or watch netflix.<br />
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Today I am giving myself a break -- a break from scolding myself. From thinking before hand I can't get anything done, so why try. From all the family members (me included) who have defined me as lazy or unproductive. From thinking that whatever I do is the wrong thing and whenever I start it is already too late.<br />
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Instead I am going to notice the things I do today. And I am going to rejoice in them. In my 20's I was a summer camp counselor at a co-ed church camp. Every Sunday evening we had a staff meeting -- to give needed information and also to share the good things that had happened that week. The counselor for the littlest boys (6-7 yr olds) shared that each day he looked to find something to be grateful for in each of his campers. One camper was very challenging. The whole staff knew about him. But the counselor said this camper brushed his teeth every day and while it was the only thing he found to be grateful for, at least there was this! So while I think I will do more today than brushing my teeth, I know there is one thing I can be grateful for in myself!<br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">* it is so easy to distract me. After writing gung ho, I had to know where the term came from, so off to the interweb to do some research. If you would like to know how this term came into being, click</span><a href="http://www.chinapage.com/word/gungho.html" style="font-weight: normal;"> here</a><span style="font-weight: normal;"> -- it's kinda fascinating.</span></blockquote>
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Rose Brier Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09411800366855319730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-56713484464256201242015-09-15T08:09:00.000-04:002015-10-30T08:19:25.250-04:00The Past Two Years<br />
I didn't mean to stop writing this blog.<br />
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I think what happened is I actually did write out my pain and sorrow and come to a place of peace. The relationship I was sorting out did not end, tho I hardly ever thought it would. It limped along for another year and a half and then six months ago it became loving, trusting, and fun again. So good, in fact, that I am planning some time in a warmer climate while he has to stay home and work. That may seem odd, but I have always loved to travel and he has not. Until I lost trust, I would take off and think nothing about it. Then I worried what might happen if I was someplace else for an extended period. I guess I can say the trust is back. Otherwise I never would have planned this trip.<br />
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So relationship woes seem to be at an end.<br />
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I am still looking to up my productivity and live a more creative life. I'm not sure what is needed for that, but I'm open to see where this takes me.Rose Brier Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09411800366855319730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-11664616133594574972013-09-12T19:20:00.001-04:002013-09-14T08:03:15.807-04:00Learning from the moviesI am a sappy romantic. I love romantic movies and television shows and the idea that people might be fated to be together. I could name more than a dozen movies with the concept of fateful meeting or staying together despite all odds. I could also name movies like <i>The Way We Were, Two for the Road </i>and<i> Casablanca, </i>which I also love, where true love did not win out. It just seems to me that watching someone else on the screen (big or small), can sometimes tell me what is true in my life. <br />
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Today I was wondering what keeps people together, when sometimes the bad memories overwhelm the good. If two people belong together how do they deal with feelings of disappointment, of potential unrealized? How do <i>I </i>deal with those things? How do I reconcile the idea that some people belong together, with my belief that there is not just one person for each of us. Does fate play a role in real life, the way if often does in the movies? What keeps couples together? What has kept us together? There have been times when I was ready to leave. Times when he was ready to leave. And yet, here we are. Still together.<br />
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I guess what I really wish is that I wasn't so aware of the difficult times. I haven't forgotten them. I'm not the most forgiving person in the world. I can hold onto grudges and old hurts. And while I am very proud of my amazing memory and all the wonderful things of the past, it's not a selective memory, more's the pity! Where are the machines from <i>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?</i><br />
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I do not have an answer. I do not know what is needed of me to let go of the ugly past and keep only the golden shining memories. And is it realistic to do so? As with all things in my life I want to work out, I will keep thinking and writing and watching romantic movies to see if I can find the answers. <br />
<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-79163823973284052572013-09-01T17:12:00.001-04:002013-09-01T17:12:48.541-04:00ForgivenessEarly on in this month of attempting to get un-stuck, I realized that the whole key to moving ahead is forgiveness. There is an important person in my life that I have to forgive. But knowing that and doing it have been a whole 'nother thing. I have been so angry and I have not wanted to forgive. It just never seemed fair that I have been so hurt and the other person seemed to get off without punishment.<br />
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This morning I had a major meltdown. I was in pain and scared. overwhelmed, hopeless. Luckily there are people I can turn to who are always there to help, to give comfort and healing thoughts and that was what happened. But once I had calmed down, I realized I have been so involved in my own hurt and pain that I don't always listen, specially not to the person who I want to forgive. So I wandered downstairs and said, "I'm sorry, Do you want to talk about it?'<br />
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And I just let the other person talk. I listened. I answered when a question was asked or a comment sought. Interestingly the conversation was actually all about me. Only this time it wasn't me doing all the talking, or even most of it. <br />
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And what I took from the conversation is that I can forgive without ever saying or thinking that the trespass was ok. Forgiving is not about saying it's alright when others do or say bad things. It's about letting go so we can move forward. And that maybe, in this case, I don't have to consciously forgive. I can know that forgiveness is what is needed and trust God to get me there in the gentlest way. That it's possible to get to forgiveness and only after it has been given to realize I am there. <br />
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<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-27354041599605773942013-08-31T17:20:00.000-04:002013-09-01T17:25:25.013-04:00ToughI have come to the end of the month. I wanted to blog every day. I didn't. Still I'm really pleased I was able to write as often as I did. It didn't turn out to be a way to establish my business, which was the inspiration for the daily post goal. But writing here has been insightful and helpful. I have gotten no comments and I'm ok about that. This has gotten me over the thought that only with feedback can my words be validated. I have written for myself.<br />
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Still I have accomplished some business related things: <br />
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I have set up and sold at the flea market 8 times.</div>
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I have sold 205 things, that's 205 items out of my studio.</div>
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I have made $853, which is way more than I would have made if I spent the time watching netflix!</div>
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I discovered a women's group of small business owners, including some artists. I have connected with a coach. I have signed up for a retreat to allow me to walk into my dreams. <br />
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I haven't made any art. I haven't wholeheartedly committed to my relationship. I know the only thing needed to do both is to forgive with my whole heart. It wasn't an easy thing to discover. I find it is not an easy thing for me to do. I am still resisting. I have a sneaking suspicion that I am the one getting hurt the most. But I'm not giving up on myself or my goal -- to be creative and happy. I am just going to have to keep going. <br />
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<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-57264821795805989142013-08-25T15:32:00.001-04:002013-08-25T15:32:51.212-04:00The Coming New YearI am feeling the anticipation of a new year. I am not Jewish and didn't celebrate the High Holy Days growing up, but school friends and neighbors did, and somehow it stuck with me that this is my new year. It makes sense to begin a new year when the crops are in, when school begins, when the ease and frivolity of summer are at a close and it is time to get down to serious <i>whatever</i>. <br />
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This time of year always energizes me. It's the time I want to clean my house. Start new projects. Renew committments. Atone and repent and spend time really looking at what I want for my year, what I want for my life.Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-73848031272278790332013-08-22T21:33:00.001-04:002013-08-25T15:15:20.086-04:00Hold OnSomeone's coming to inspect my house tomorrow, so life, worries, relationship issues, art and such have been put on hold while I deal with the stuff. And I'm not even dealing with it on an emotional level, just physically cleaning and moving and making the place look like it is insurable.<br />
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I can't clean the whole house in 3 days. I thought I could clean 3 rooms, but I forgot how much cleaning was needed. And perhaps cleanliness isn't the issue. As far as I know there are no termites. The roof is less than a year old and the heating, and electrical systems work fine. The basement <i>and </i>cellar, yes it's a funky old house and has one of each, never flood. The only water damage we have ever suffered are broken pipes and a leaky roof and both have been addressed.<br />
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It hasn't been easy dealing with this. A lot of heavy lifting. It's not all my stuff and that has been hard for DH. I know how much useless shit I have kicking around. He has had tocome face to face with his junk the last 2 days and it has not been a pretty sight. I'd love to be kind and tell him it doesn't matter, but it does. The stuff he has clogging what might be his home office/studio keep him from working or practicing there. Hell, they keep him from so much. So I can't make him feel better, cuz he just might have to hit bottom to deal with it -- I'd say once and for all (I know this post is way too full of cliches). but if you tend to clutter, you have to deal with it weekly, if not daily.<br />
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There are a bunch of songs with the title or refrain, <i>Hold On.</i> And all of them say pretty much the same. Life isn't always easy. But if you hold on, even if only for one more day, things just might get better.<br />
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The inspector's visit may be completely anticlimactic. But out of it, I got a really clean bedroom, a more open great room, and, if I can do it, an upper hallway that isn't a maze! Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-64034567333245411502013-08-19T15:14:00.003-04:002013-08-19T15:14:39.611-04:00Through the Ringer<br />
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Is it fair to put someone through the ringer for past mis-deeds? When does the statute of limitations run out on "you done me wrong" recriminations? Is there a way to work out these feelings of hurt and fear without beating someone else up, metaphorically speaking? I don't know the answer to any of these questions. Well I know therapy is a possible solution, I'm just not going that route. I know I never mean the conversations to be mean. I actually often think I am just talking about what is affecting me. Maybe I will just share what I am thinking. It all starts without any malice. I just want to share my feelings. But I think I have finally discovered that my feelings are so dark and festering, that to share them with anyone but this blog or a therapist, who might be able to help, is really cruel. It is pretending to be factual, when in reality I am venomous.<br />
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So even tho I am still hurting, it really isn't fair to ask another person to feel as rotten as I do without some sort of solution or healing involved in the conversation. If one really can't say something constructive about a problem it's time to let it go or get professional help.<br />
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Wish it was like this ringer washing machine - EASY!Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-57661000808738015382013-08-17T19:15:00.000-04:002013-08-17T19:15:04.187-04:00What I'm Thinking TodayAt the beginning of the month it was a lot easier to post every day. No kids visiting. Husband at work daily. This last couple weeks have brought everyone home and on holiday for a while. It's nice and tough at the same time. <br />
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And on the one hand I can be very content in my own little world. I rarely get lonely when I am alone. I either think a lot or escape a lot. But no one knows or passes any judgement. On the other hand, it's good for me to be around my family. They are who I am working through issues with. And they are the ones who force me to deal with my stuff and make me recognize how resistant to change I have become. <br />
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On the topic of stuff removal, I had another fabulous day of selling stuff at the local flea market. I even got rid of a bunch of china when a shelf blew over and serious breakage occurred. It's funny, but it just doesn't bother me that stuff broke. I picked up the pieces and put them in the trash. I'm sorry people won't get to buy some pretty things, but I don't have to unpack or pack those things up ever again. The other vendors were very upset. But really it was just an alternative way of removing things I no longer want or need. And I guess if it turns out to bother me after I have slept on it, I'll return here and write about it.<br />
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Over and out, good night!<br />
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<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-84452012365927724722013-08-14T08:30:00.000-04:002013-08-14T08:30:04.305-04:00Your SongI am taking a journey of discovery and healing this month. Today I have had another <i>ah ha </i>moment.<br />
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I am a firm believer that there are no coincidences and that all things both happen for a reason and work together for good to them that love God... So it shouldn't amaze me that somehow I chanced upon <i>The Actor's Studio</i> interview with Elton John. Because listening to that program has taken me one more step into the realm of forgiveness and pardon. <br />
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It's a great interview which includes Elton John playing <i>Your Song</i>, a song that always reminds me of my sister. I used to visit her a lot her freshman year at UCLA. One visit in particular came flooding back to me. I have been awfully angry about something that was done to me years ago. And while listening to this beautiful song, I realized I actually did the same thing to someone else. There's no way I can apologize for my misdeed. But what I can do is recognize I didn't do it to hurt another. I was just very young and thought-less. And if I had no evil intent, perhaps the person who hurt me didn't either. If I am willing to forgive myself for messing up, I need to forgive the individual who hurt me. <br />
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Step by step I am undoing the things I have let stop me fully expressing myself. I'm kinda amazed. But it doesn't amaze me that the keys to healing should come via music. That is the most natural thing in the world. <br />
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<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-20071009017461711352013-08-13T17:31:00.000-04:002013-08-13T17:31:42.062-04:00A Quiet, Empty HouseWhich comes first, the title or the content? That has nothing to do with this post, it's just something I was thinking about before starting to write. In this case I am writing first. The title will have to reveal itself when I get to the end. <br />
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I have been obsessively watching a TV show on netflix. I think I will continue to watch until I get every bit of wisdom and help I can get out of it. It may seem funny to look for direction that way, but this show seems to touch me and my hopes, my dreams, and my past in a way that makes sense and shows me a way to go.<br />
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Everyone left for the afternoon. Dad drove the gang to Boston where one kid lives, one is visiting friends and I am left with a quiet, empty house. It's nice. These days I am more sensitive to criticism than I have been since I lived with my parents. I need these respites from people who love me, want only the best for me, but have definite opinions of what I should and shouldn't do.<br />
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I'm not saying they aren't right in their opinions. It's just easier to watch this funny, quirky, sweet TV show and see if I can't find the impetus to move where I need to move. It's easier to watch characters dealing with issues similar to mine. Unlike me, they have writers to give them their lines. And even when the characters appear tongue-tied or angry or sad or any other emotion that mimics what I am feeling, they manage to say things that are poignant or witty or endearing. I try to talk all this stuff out, but it always sounds so much better in my head. A staff of writers would be such an improvement!<br />
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Slowly I am finding hope. A sense that I can be happy. That I can be loving and caring and not at the effect of either past events or stuff. It still feels like I have a way to go, but it also feels like I am walking toward the light at the end of the tunnel and not into the deep dark cave.<br />
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So what will I call this post? Hope? Peace? Guess I'll just name it for what surrounds me right now.<br />
<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-43428440905820162892013-08-12T09:07:00.002-04:002013-08-12T09:07:46.786-04:00ChangeChange is not easy. In fact, it is downright difficult! For habits they say it takes 28 days to change. But what if you have to change yourself? Your attitudes, the way you relate to specific people, maybe even the way you think?<br />
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And what happens when these changes mean you have to disavow most of your adult life? In my case, it feels like a gnawing pain in the pit of my stomach when I wake up. It feels like the adreneline flood of a panic attack. None of this is very pleasant. <br />
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As I wrote yesterday, I do know what I need to do. I keep waiting for some sign that what I need to do won't wreck me completely. My kids are visiting this week, which compounds what I am going through. It's not as easy to be contemplative when they are here. They have their own agenda and things they want me to do. And I know I am being stubborn. The choice is clear. Can I make it? Yes. But can I let go of the entire way I have lived my adult life? Will there be anything left of the me I have been all this time? Do I want to hold on to her? And what happens if. . . ? Would I survive?<br />
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Dang. I wish this was easier.Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-26069284986793177622013-08-11T17:16:00.001-04:002013-08-11T17:16:51.967-04:00What I Need to DoI had thought to write every day this month. It was a quest to find my artistic voice and see how I could express more creativity. It is a wonderful thing to go on a quest. It can be deeply spiritual. Like a retreat. Or wanting to find meaning in the universe. It can also be ridiculously absurd. Like Monty Python's pursuit of the Holy Grail. But you never know what your quest will reveal.<br />
<br />
This one has shown me the fear that is stopping me in almost every aspect of my life. And it has also shown me what I need to do. But in order to move forward, I really am going to have to take a huge leap of faith and make a choice. And that choice is the most terrifying thing I can imagine right now. <br />
<br />
As debilitating as my current circumstances are, it seems so much easier to do nothing different. To live with all the stuff. To escape in my usual ways. To give lip service to being an artist, but never make any effort to create daily. To go through the motions in my relationships with friends & family. Honestly, I would rather not change. It means I would have to let go of some old hurts and forgive both myself and others. And I am very scared. To do what I need to do opens me up to the possibility of great pain and sorrow. It could also open me up to a wonderful creative and fulfilling life. <br />
<br />
I know what I need to do. I still don't know if I can do it. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Rose Brier Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09411800366855319730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-49071233507972391252013-08-08T09:00:00.000-04:002013-08-12T08:50:42.985-04:00Run Away, Run AwayI am spitting mad!<br />
<br />
A whole bunch of things have happened this week that have really pissed
me off: this stupid man I met at the flea market. (Why I engage in conversations with stupid men I don't know. I should just ignore them!) the UPS driver who cut me off today. tourist
drivers where I live. my best friend constantly trying to fix me. I told her something that was bothering me and now she keeps harping on it and wanting to know why and make suggestions. I don't want help, I just wanted a friend to vent to, just someone I can bitch and bellyache with and not all the time, just once in a while. I am mad she wants to fix me. I am mad she sees me as a person who needs to be fixed. And I probably am a little mad at myself that I can't just tell her to stop doing that. I spend two full days with her every week in a business venture and it makes me feel stuck. (and I thought this post would have nothing at all to do with stuck-ness. urghhh)<br />
<br />
I hate being mad. It triggers a rush of adreneline to my system, which turns on the fight or flight response and my response is always to flee! And then mad turns to scared or sad and depressed and staying under the covers for days at a time seems the only solution.<br />
<br />
There is a wonderful bit -- "run away, run away," from <i>Monty Python & The Holy Grail</i>., and that is what I am going to do. Oh and to all those people who have irritated me this week, again I quote Monty Python in a ridiculous French accent: "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries. I blow my nose at you!" <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-51185348872618748172013-08-07T10:45:00.001-04:002013-08-07T10:45:41.434-04:00Sometimes it is difficult to let goMy kids are coming to visit this week and they clearly disapprove of all the crap I have collected and strewn about the house and barn. Sometimes I just think they are upset with me about it. But they are such incredible, amazing people, that when I can think clearly, I know they are upset because they see how debilitating it is for me. And while I don't seem able to deal with the stuff on a daily basis, when they are here or a visit is planned, I do make an effort to do something with it all.<br />
<br />
Moving stuff from place to place might make it look like there is less. But honestly if my kids just moved the peas around their plates, I would know they hadn't eaten them. So who am I fooling by throwing it into boxes and putting it in unused spaces in the house. Ultimately I need to get rid of the stuff. <br />
<br />
I have gotten sentimental about the things I have collected. The piles and piles and piles of beautiful white linens. The vintage clothing I used to wear in high school and college. The books. Oh, the books. It's not that the items themselves are important to me. It is the memories they represent. The way some of these things defined me at one point in my life. When I see them, specially unexpectedly, I get these great nostalgic rushes!<br />
<br />
And sometimes things are a barrier to hold back sadness or tough times or anxiety. Sometimes it is difficult to let go. <br />
<br />
<br />Rose Brier Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09411800366855319730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-23784600118480095882013-08-05T10:18:00.000-04:002013-08-05T10:18:10.988-04:00StuffI think about "stuff" a lot. I have too much. I know it would be so good to get rid of most of it. To that end, I sell at flea markets twice a week. And I give stuff away to the Salvation Army & the local swap shop. But the pile of stuff never seems to get any smaller. And I often have this idea that if I were to pack it all up, call Goodwill or Salvation Army to come haul it away, I would be so much better off. My kids are coming to visit at the end of the week and it brings it all to the fore. They can see clearly how much this impacts me. It may not be the thing that is making me stuck, but it doesn't help.<br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
So I share with you this bit from Firesign Theatre, the last line pretty much sums up my conflicting views.</div>
<br />
<blockquote>
<blockquote>
<blockquote>
Announcer: "So here's your last
deal Ms. Presky -- now, which would would you rather do? Hit this dude
over the head with a bag of sugar ...or beat out that rhythm on the
drums..."</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Mrs. Presky: "Er....ahhhhh....I'll take the bag."</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Announcer: "You mean you're gonna trade this four foot cube of
18 carat Swiss Bouillon and the steak knives, Mrs. Presky, all for
that little bag ???"</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Mrs. Presky: "Yes!"</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Announcer: "Well alllllright!! Open it up!!"</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Mrs. Presky: "Why. . why . . this is a bag of shit!"</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Announcer: "But it's really <i>GREAT</i> shit, Mrs Presky."</blockquote>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<br />
-- Firesign Theatre, Don't Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers. <br />
<blockquote>
<blockquote>
<blockquote>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-26361964831315687282013-08-04T09:15:00.000-04:002013-08-04T09:15:07.779-04:00Keeping JournalsI'm no stranger to journals. I have kept them since I was 14. They are the way I make sense of whatever is going on with me. I've written about family, about love, about loss. I've written when I was angry or hurt or depressed or just plain confused. I have written when sentimental and even happy, but mostly it's the tough times that inspire me to write. I've written down my dreams and later found they were telling me things I wasn't consciously aware of. But all those journals were written just for me. They were never public so I could be messy or ungrammatical or mean or thoroughly pissed off. <br />
<br />
For me, this blog is a different kind of journal. I am still writing about very personal issues. And I am still being honest. But it's not the unvarnished truth. I edit. I consider the words I will use. I consider that someone else might read this. Now currently there is no indication that anyone but me is reading this. But this is a public sphere and ya never know. Someone I know just might read what I have written. It makes me think really hard about what I will write. I don't want to tell all the gory details. They are not important. What is important is the emotional truth. <br />
<br />
Retuning to this blog started because I was tired of being stuck. Writing in my private journal was not moving me forward. It didn't get me moving. And it didn't tell me what is going on with me. Somehow editing out the details, the despair (which I just didn't want to put out for anyone else to see) is allowing me to see what is true for me. It's a slow go, so I don't know if it will unstuck me. But it sure is nice to notice that each day I have a further insight and I take one more step toward wholeness.<br />
<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-36005398846647365012013-08-03T11:12:00.000-04:002013-08-04T08:47:47.820-04:00My Heart is A Fixed PointI keep thinking that all this angst is about making art. But it's not. It's about opening my heart again. The art stuff is just there in the background because it's something I want to do. But I can't. I can barely get out of bed each day. But that's just a symptom. Trust is the real issue. Because it seems to me if you can't trust, you can't love. And if you can't love it's impossible to do anything else.<br />
<br />
Is trust something one can learn to do? I used to be the most trusting person. And then. . .<br />
Did I lose the ability to trust? Is it a permanent loss? I don't know. I'm not sure I even know how to find the answer. <br />
<br />
This is such a tough thing to deal with for me. For no matter how much I have been hurt, how much I mourn the loss of trust, my heart is still a fixed point. It has been since that summer at camp so many years ago. Hearts are amazing things. And it's really, really scary to open them up when there is no guarantee that they won't be broken again.<br />
<br />Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-61535025769547733832013-08-02T09:37:00.001-04:002013-08-02T09:37:40.974-04:00Gallileo, Newton and me<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">What will I say today? A friend of mine was working on growing her business and the business coach told her to blog every day for 30 days. I don't have a business coach, but I would like to. I love the idea of coaches! I'm not sure I have a business and I'm not sure I could sustain one. But I want to express my creativity. And I don't want to be stuck any longer. And since writing has <i>always </i>been the way I make sense of my life, here I am again, writing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So, what will I say today? I've been thinking about physics a lot lately.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">What will open my heart and allow me to be more than a passive observer? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> What disrupts inertia? Newton's First Law states: </span><br />
<blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"An object at rest stays at rest and an object in motion
stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless
acted upon by an unbalanced force."</span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Could it be my life is too balanced? It doesn't feel like it. I don't feel at a point of equilibrium. I think of balance as good, really good. But according the laws of the universe, to move beyond being <i>a body at rest</i>, this body needs to be acted upon by an unbalanced force.</span><br />
<i> </i><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"To determine if the forces acting upon an
object are balanced or unbalanced, an analysis must first be
conducted to determine what forces are acting upon the
object and in what direction. If two individual forces are
of equal magnitude and opposite direction, then the forces
are said to be balanced. An object is said to be acted
upon by an unbalanced force only when there is an
individual force that is <u>not</u> being balanced by a
force of equal magnitude and in the opposite direction." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I'm going to have to think more about what forces are acting upon me. And of course I don't know if you can apply Newtonian laws to emotional inertia. But on the other hand it's a whole different way to think and maybe that in itself is an unbalanced force!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">For more info on the science, check out <a href="http://www.physicsclassroom.com/class/newtlaws/u2l1a.cfm">The Physics Classroom</a></span> </span><i> </i><br />
Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-85070681862592543572013-08-01T14:16:00.000-04:002013-08-02T01:26:53.957-04:00She Don't Look Back That's the part of the lyrics I have always struggled with. On the one hand I love looking back. I am fond of telling stories. My young adulthood was a most magical time and I mine it for smiles all the time. But I think Dylan was talking about a woman who didn't bother with regrets. And while I have no regrets from high school or college, I have looked back over the last decade or so and wondered if the song lyrics still pertain to me.<br />
<br />
I discovered theatre in high school. Freshman year in college I wandered over to the theatre building and that's where I spent all my time for the next year and a half. I was
certainly too quiet and self conscious to take acting classes, but I
felt right at home in the design/tech part of a production. I loved the
creativity. Designing sets is a combination of
drafting skill and artistry. Costuming is a combination of sewing skills and creativity. And building sets, painting backdrops, sewing costumes with a bunch of dedicated folks is absolute heaven -- no matter how late you have to be there! <br />
<br />
However, the reason I love the lyrics is they were the first time someone told me I was an artist. I had a friend. I met him that freshman year in theatre design class. He was an artist and hip and experienced and someone I felt amazingly connected to. He really made me feel special. We'd go to a party and I always knew where he was, we'd catch each others eye and smile at some private joke. We'd jump into each others conversations from the across the room without skipping a beat. At least that is how I remember it. I never thought it would go anywhere -- like marriage or children, but I loved being in his company and he was always a lot of fun. He was someone I felt comfortable talking to and sharing my feelings. Since I was usually tongue-tied around guys I liked, this was a revelation! We stayed friends all through college. <br />
<br />
I don't remember exactly how it came about, but I must have been bemoaning the fact that I wasn't an artist and I wish I was, or something like that. And my friend quoted Dylan, "<i>She's got everything she needs/she's an artist/she don't look back." </i>That's you, he said. Art is a state of mind. You are an artist because of who you
are, not what you do.<br />
<br />
Powerful stuff.<br />
<br />Rose Brier Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09411800366855319730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-63870290567271745472013-07-31T14:56:00.000-04:002013-08-02T01:11:39.601-04:00Heart of MineIt has been a tough couple of years. Two years ago, after a glorious month in France, I came home knowing the answer to the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I knew, as I probably haven't known since I was 15, I want to be an artist! But the road has been anything but clear. I closed my antique shop/turned it into a studio. That was s'posed to take the pressure off and allow me the time and space to create. <i>Meh!</i> I have made art, some of it glorious, some crap! (I'm really not being hard on myself, I know the difference). But not nearly enough art or joy has been evident in my life.<br />
<br />
And I'm not feeling like an artist. Do I know what an artist feels like? Does he have to be missing an ear? Does she have to work in the studio every day? Must the work be sold? Must she conform to Dylan's definition? -- "<i>She's got everything she needs/She's an artist/She don't look back." </i>I must have a picture of the artist<i> </i>in my head; a picture I somehow don't fit. Or is it the emotionally tough couple of years I've had? I think maybe one needs to <i>feel</i> to be an artist. You can feel good or bad or angry or sad or any other of a million emotions, but ya gotta feel. So probably the reason I'm not feeling like an artist is I'm trying real hard not to feel anything.<br />
<br />
My means of escape can be found at the local public library or our subscription to Netflix. Makes sense that this piece of wisdom is the voice over from a show I watch. I'm not there yet, to the last sentence of this quote anyway, but I know that is what needs to happen for me to be the artist I am, deep down:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"We try to live responsible, logical lives. But we can't tell our hearts what to think.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sometimes our hearts lead us to places we never thought we wanted to go.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And sometimes our hearts can be the sweetest gentlest things we have.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sometimes our hearts can make us feel miserable, angry, excited and confused -- all at once.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But at least my heart is open. And I'm writing again. I'm dealing. I'm breathing."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> -jason katims</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Rose Brier Studiohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09411800366855319730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-29651714106958947952012-12-21T07:05:00.002-05:002012-12-21T07:05:38.403-05:00Merry Christmas & Happy New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">May your holidays be filled with light and love!</span></div>
Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8616591798291302533.post-16245519546934074442011-12-10T00:04:00.005-05:002012-12-21T07:18:32.513-05:00Hanging OutI've been spending an awful lot of time by myself. It's late at night as I write this and I realize I am a bit lonely. My work as an artist currently doesn't bring me into contact with people. It just seems everything I do to connect with people makes me feel worse. <br />
<br />
Over the years I have hung out in a few online chat rooms. I think they are probably the loneliest places I have ever been. Recently I tried out the message boards on IMDb. I like films and some TV programs and I thought it might be nice to chat with people about them. Eh. Not so much. It's a discussion, but no real connection. It looks like I am talking with other human beings, but it's just a bunch of comments that don't connect people together. At least I don't feel connected. <br />
<br />
I've taken to eating lunch out at a local cafe. The food is really good and it gets me out of the house and around people. During the summer I sat outside and that was great. Now I sit inside with a book, but I think the other customers think I'm odd to sit by myself. Unless of course they don't notice me at all and I am just being paranoid. Could be. <br />
<br />
I've gotten to know the counter ladies. They know my name. They know I always order ice tea. But lately I feel that I'm not making any real contact with them either. I go in and say hi, start up some sort of conversation, but something isn't right. Are they too busy? Do I talk about idiotic things? Am I too old? Are they too young? <br />
<br />
I'm going to stop now before this gets truly maudlin. Maybe I'll call my mom. She's odd and irritating, but one nice thing, I never feel lonely around her!Tiny Dancerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03212561273646859873noreply@blogger.com1