Bye, bitch
It’s the first thing to come to mind. It is the theme of the day.
The expression represents so many things: people, places, things, situations, actions, all of it.
Bye, bitch.
miracles
truth
Artists:
so many mediums, aspects, genres, styles, designs, plots, inspirations, ideas, creations, emotions, scripts, presentations, performances, showings… and on, and on…
like our sexuality, it is not a choice. we are artists. and, no, we do not need your approval to be this, to do this, to live this.
WE. ARE. THIS. unlike so many professions, we ARE our artistry.
it is life, breath, it is existence. period. and, it is, at times, many…many…many…times very painful.
the criticism, skepticism, and, well, disdain for the lack of financial security related to our artistry, by others, for our supposedly ‘chosen’ path, to create the very amazing, mind-stretching and brilliant works that entertain everyone else who can afford to enjoy our art, is sad, insulting, mind-boggling and shameful. even those who love us, like us, tell us we are “talented, wonderful, even geniuses” are not fully “in”. ‘gosh, you are so smart, you would be so good at…(fill in the blank)’.
thank god, we don’t give a shit if ANYONE likes what we create and have the fucking balls to expose to everyone on a regular basis. some see it as bravery, others say crazy.
we have no choice.
creation is innate and raw, and contrived, and self-imposing, and selfish, and lovely, and selfless, and necessary…it is necessary to those who create, and especially for those who are the recipients of the creation. you need us. you do. and, as such, should be compensated fairly for our necessity. but, guess what? when we are not, we keep on. because…we must…and because it is a love so insistent. because.
just because…
Perserverance
“Steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success.”
Oh, just as I thought…I am definitely going to claim that moniker!
And, I AM successful…always have been.
However, for many years, I didn’t know it or believe it, because I was allowing others to define that success for me.
Well, no more!
I am owning every morsel, every inch of that success.
Every minute, hour, day, month, and year that I trudged uphill in search of my success.
Every tear, every painful criticism along the way.
Every moment of fear, of fearlessness.
Every feeling of joy, and pride.
Everything.
All of it.
I own it.
Steadfast I am.
Successful I am.
I am…
Perserverance.
yea, right…
so, in my mind, i’ve written many articles with many topics, and yet, I see here that it is not true. i want to blog, to write about my many daily experiences. i want to have time to jot down these meanderings. and then i don’t. i don’t get to, that is.
have you seen the lion king? the circle of life thing, and all…? well, there’s no mystery in that scene. if you are still alive at 50 and are gifted with knowing others who are and still others who are close to twice that, then you know that not a hell of a lot is new. just renewed. we aren’t the inventors. we are the re-creators, the re-inventers. someone else most certainly did it first. but the revival, the reinvention is the new part especially for those who are unaware of the inception or introduction of whatever it is that they think is new. so, yea, right…that’s new…for anyone who is learning of anything for the first time. not to be undervalued.
We are our mothers…
’tis true. we can dispute it, I know you do! but especially as women, we ARE our mothers. In ways that are unrecognized by ourselves and yet are prominent in our thoughts, mannerisms and behaviours. (and everyone else sees it!) We fight it. We deny it. We rebel against it. Why? We love our mothers and yet we strive to be the antithesis. A strange way to honor the most influential and important person in our lives.
Does it need explaining?
In my mother’s day, you didn’t wear your “@%&” on your sleeves.
You just kept a stiff upper lip. I really believe there’s something to that.
It kind of goes hand in hand with our more recent explorations of “creating our own reality”. If you live in your own misery, it soon becomes your existence.
that’s all…
ok. yeah….
seriously, folks. are we so sick of all of this shit? I mean all of this.
parents who overmanage their offspring, bosses who overmanage their employees, friends who overmanage their friends…
I am sincerely and without regret or apology DONE with the overmanagers.
if you want to do my job, well then, voila! it’s yours.
but , just get the &*$# over it AND yourself. whatever it is.
the parents of children past didn’t worry about whether it was relative to their social “health” (ahem status), they just dropped their kids at point A and picked them up there at the designated time. “what do you want for dinner” and “what time do you have to be at school tomorrow” was sufficient.
BAM. that’s it. that’s all. what??!!
no. there’s no more. faggedaboudit….
Dating Conversation…
It might seem silly. It might seem trite. It might seem irrelevant.
But IT. IS. REAL
THIS is dating today for those of us 50+.
Me: Hi
Him: I apologize for the late “Hi”. (2 emojis)
Him; a bit later …”.hereeeee”
Me: Sorry…been pretty busy…(relevant details that an adult faces, children, elderly parents etc) Oh, and I don’t do major Spartan Races, or that sort of thing…It looks like it’s a requirement for a relationship….so…well, I think I’m out!…
Him: All good! Not looking for a partner for Spartan Races, just someone to watch me jump the “fire line” (what the hell is that??)…(OH, [swoon…gag-o-rama])
Him 2 days later: Plans for Saturday?
Me: How are you?
Him: You seem too busy …I’ve asked you questions and and all you say is how are you…what gives?
Me: I was actually driving [and quickly responded to apease you] (In my head I said that)….. But I wanted to answer your questions. I am a very busy person, but isn’t that better than someone who is completely bored with their life…and has nothing else to focus on??? I have exciting projects coming up!
Him: I’m excited for you…but seriously, I’m busy too..no excuses. You only communicate every 3 days and most men expect you to communicate every day. At least to find out how we are…When would you find time to be with me? Why are you even on this site? You don’t even have time for a relationship!…Unless of course you are only seeking a physical relationship….I’m just as busy as you are…Don’t say it isn’t so. just saying. It only takes a minute to (declare your undying love-give me a f’ing break) say hello…or to ask how was your day…
Me: (Nothing…cuz at this point, and for real before that, I am SOOOO done.)
Him: I am no longer interested.
Me: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
I don’t think he even realized that by saying he wasn’t interested (after I ignored him), that he was ACTUALLY saying he was interested….hahhaahahhaahahahahaha
Good night…
Like I give a F@%*
It might be MY bacon year…
6 degrees of Carol’s bacon-separation…
I swear, it seems over the years, that there isn’t anyone that doesn’t know someone that knows someone who knows someone who I know and who knows me and who either loves, likes or hates me and who I either love, like or hate. Take a breath…seriously.
Ironically, or not, I despise bacon as such. Not THE Kevin Bacon, you understand. The smell, the taste, the name…just everything about bacon, but my life resembles the BACON PRINCIPLE.
It’s a tad terrifying. Is that a sign? I think not. Bacon is not the metaphor for my comparison. But the Bacon Principle alone. And, I am pretty sure I almost stand alone in my dislike and almost hatred of the fried and cured pig.
When you live in a place for a great number of years, and you have a business that connects people through its association, you will, inevitably, know someone who knows someone…well, you know…
In closing, my statement is:
We are not alone. We are not singular. We are not anonymous. We are here. We are real. We are seen, loved, known, forgotten, ignored, dismissed, admired, judged, envied, belied, abused, revered, praised, exhausted…and so on…
WE. ARE.
That’s all. and that’s everything.
Doesn’t anybody know what time it is…
Does anybody really care
If so I can’t imagine why
We’ve all got time enough to cry
Seriously, a contemplation…
myblogisbitchin 