I’m between every word of this song, enmeshed, intertwined and living inside the notes, streaming around the strings of the guitar, feeling the vibrations.
Yes, folks, it’s Bobby Dylan…. one whose albums kept me company many nights. I have not decided which side of the coin I’m on in that song. What do you think?
And these two…. I knew then they were written for me! I had one of the most intense relationships of my life when Dylan’s Nashville Skyline came out. To hear this on a 33 with the scratches — not remastered — is absolutely heart wrenching. Being indulgent, I can remember sitting on the floor between the wall and the big brass bed with this man. He was sincerely playing the Dylan role here. He was 32, had a degree from Berkeley, was getting grad degree in music (guitar player) when I met him. I was 17 or 18. Music and hormones. Zowie……
Ok…. enough nostalgia for the moment.
Those were my sweet and innocent days. A freakishly long time ago!
Goodness gracious. All these years I have been calling it procrastination which depends on no one but oneself. Foot dragging calls up expectations, reality checks, hopes, dreams, the involvement of others.
Recent foot dragging events:
thank you cards for birthday gifts
that green fabric piece
cutting off little remaining bits of last year’s growth on perennials
going to my GP to ask about several health issues
and a few more
Just this morning I realized that the green of the fabric piece was repelling me. I have put it away. Large purple will stay on the wall as a soothing mixture of fabrics until I choose to complete it. Here’s one little piece of it….
That will soothe me while I work on the red and black piece. And of course, the olive green curtains in the studio will be coming down, to be replaced by the reddish ones that used to be up in the other studio…. or perhaps something more neutral…yes, more neutral so as not to detract from that upon which I will be working.
Also, I need to begin the clay project I have started — the seed pots. With that in mind, I have just come to the realization that the possibility for purchasing and housing my own kiln exists. A long telephone conversation with my mama last night ensued. This morning I awoke to the tune of “why not ask if you might not install your soon-to-be-purchased kiln there! “
Will wonders never cease? It’s been sitting there in front of me for months…. no years.
Today, my task is to approach her with the proposal.
And to change the dreadful colors in the bathroom. Settled.
My work is cut out for me.
Perhaps the words of my caterer will ring in my ears forever….. it will be done by next year is what he said. No work outside the home, except by choice. Art all the livelong day.
You will be glad to know that just this morning, I came to the possibly grave realization that I have finally perfected something. Can you guess what this achievement might be? Well, now, brace yourselves…. I have perfected maintaining the same weight for nearly 5 years, albeit much greater than I should ever have reached.
If I can do this at my current weight and stature, I can do it when my weight decreases and my BMI number also plummets to where it should be according to my calculations. This is going to be a long haul, since I plan no surgical procedures, crash diets, kick-boxing lessons, or constant cajoling by paid cajolers.
No, dears, this time it is for health and longevity. The maternal side of my family is long-lived. The paternal leaves something to be desired. I have the body and constitution of the maternal side, but contain the genes of both. You will not know my goal weight or my current weight, but will know the amount lost, which means the end result will reveal exactly where I am today. Double yikes!!
This may take a year… it may take two years… it may take the rest of my life. It will happen.
Yes, of course I saw photos of myself from last week, and recently some of myself when I returned from England to Sacramento 20-some years ago. Shocking! I will be consulting with someone on this matter. Worry not. I will be in good hands.
This makes me smile.
Last night, I got out of my warm bed at 11:30pm and finally started that green piece…. perhaps I’ll call it Green Peace. I tossed and turned in bed planning how to put it together — had been doing that for DAYS! Then realized that my usual mo was to sit down and start. Of course the initial cutting and sewing was amazing. In two hours (with Lovejoy season 2 playing in the background) I had a lovely piece of patchwork. All will be revealed when the first step is complete.
This also makes me smile.
And now, I’m off to work. Happy again. It was dreadful for a few days, just dreadful. Stay with me. There’s more to come. Felt a bit flat there for a moment, with no passion, no drive, no real aim or goal…….. or even momentarily, no dreams. Still have dirt under my fingernails from climbing out of the pit this time. Proud of that dirt.
It’s back to work today, with several post mortems to follow from thankful, critical, suggestionful and other co-workers who were there.
I have to pay the caterer this morning, so will leave here around 6:30 or so. Thank goodness I only have to work three days, then four days off.
Today is a start on last year’s food elimination process. I don’t mean in the bathroom, either. On March 3 last year I eliminated three things from my food intake. Sugar, lactose, and wheat. It was a glorious time from the first day. No phlegm wads in the morning that nearly choke me to death, and several other sidelines — none of which I will mention here.
This was, as many know, as a result of knitting through a lecture by Dr. Andrew Weil. Will go to the library today and see what books are in. Perhaps one or two are on cd.
I stuck with it for something like 8 months, then boom. Totally screwed myself and started with the wheat first, on the way back to Sacramento from Stockton after meeting with a new man, and having lunch with one I had met previously. Let me put those aside for now. I am determined to go back and write about each one individually, collectively, and however I need to do it so that I can publish, self-publish or just let the public know what crappy people are out there. As a former friend once said…. well, dear, you are in that category, too, aren’t you. You’re right out there with the rest of them. My response…. I tell the truth.
Must go to work. Loving every minute I ‘m telling myself.
Take a moment, my dears, to listen to this ditty — new to many — by the Beach Boys back in the day:
I melt when I hear it, even though I didn’t exactly like them due to their incredibly sexist lyrics. Wonderful harmonies, great voices, super arrangements, lyrics that screw every female in sight. So about 10 years ago I discover this tune. Still doesn’t excuse the previous stuff. It is so evocative, though.
Deleted this morning’s missive. Too rank and recriminatory. I do apologize to anyone who might have read it before its demolition and subsequent elimination.
So now, I go for a nap before the craziness called lunch with the parents and son. Has to be done, my dears, as you all know. Birthdays bring such odd thoughts.
Let me go do the rest thing, take a shower, and have a BLT at Boudin Bakery.
When I return, I will rip and sew fabric to my heart’s content. Through the night into the morning light.
Working three days this week. Off Friday for another 4 day weekend. YES!!!
Just went over to the Willa.com site. Originally found her when I was interested in knitting and sending out notices to knitting group where I work. However….. it is today, and before I clicked out of wordpress for now, I clicked on willa over on the right side of the page.
In the tea leaves/readings section, she gave me this:
This is the only life you get, at least in this guise.
Do you want to spend it worrying and feeling sorry for yourself?
Why, tell me why there are no happy “alone” songs. Why is Brenda Lee not rejoicing during her lovely rendition of “All Alone Am I”?
And Eric Carmen, for goodness sake…
name the composer who got little or no recognition where this song is concerned.
Ok… only one more….
Gilbert O’Sullivan gave us this little ditty…
You know that all of this youtube transference is because I dare not write what I’m feeling right now. I’ve spent quite a lot of time trying to find a happy alone song. The examples are, of course, from my teenhood.
I’ve just spent nearly an hour wallowing in some music by John Rutter and the lovely Pie Jesu by Andrew Lloyd Webber. The result….. tired bum from not walking around in an hour. Processing time for crap going on. Thanks for the indulgence.
Yeah. You know, I really do believe that. That was Buck Owens and the Buckaroos with Don Rich on lead guitar and harmonies in 1966 on the Jimmy Dean Show (he does more than make sausages).
Gathering last night was a success from many aspects.
Ok you men of the world. You can relax. Yes, I believe the words of the song above, but am fully resolved that it will happen when it will happen.
As for the gathering…… lovely people make a good group to be with. Everyone — well, with a couple of exceptions — adored my new pink bedroom. I slept so much today that I can hardly think about what went on here last night. That, and I’ve been talking to a friend for the past two hours, and didn’t even realize that time had passed. Seems someone filled the dishwasher for me during the party, and all I have left to do is put away a couple of items, and have some of the delicious cheeses I got for the occasion.
Doug Pauly, the guitarist in question, was marvelous. Crossed many genres, but all in his most beautiful, mellow toned hollow-bodied electric guitar with subtle amp assistance.
Most of the activity centered around the kitchen area where people feasted on enough food for an army….. green salad, pasta salad, grilled and chilled veggies, chicken and veggies on skewers, various brownies, wines, beers, and non-alcoholic drinks, cheeses and crackers. An enjoyable time was had by all. People from all aspects of my life…. family included in that group…and the house is so freaking clean it squeaks. I do not want to bring anything else back into the house. It’s just fine as it is.
The space seems so grand with “things” taken to the garage!
And yes, I am now the ripe age of 59. The day I turn 64, I have vowed to play “When I’m 64″ ever day of that year…. I’ll download it as a cell phone alarm and use it every day!
Now, three days off. I am back to being content, not ungrateful (that means grateful), and peaceful. In the grand cleanup, found a fortune cookie that says, “YOU LOVE PEACE.” I am keeping that one, ’til it flutters to the floor with a sneeze or a bit of air breezing by.
I am going back to Northern Exposure. Then it’s off to bed for more rejuvenating sleep. I do love sleeping in the new bedroom.
Good night for now……. may be back later when I reflect more on yesterday.
Well, dear ones….. here I sit, thinking of how ticked off my mom was 59 years ago today…. as she pained her way through labor in order to get me out of her abdominal cavity. I was born in Hawaii at 10:38am (7:38am California time) after I am sure was the second worst moment in her life, the first having been the moment of conception. I have always regretted that fact that I was born during the life and times of Dr. Spock. No, I don’t mean MR Spock. Dr. Spock, to my knowledge was the greatest proponent of bottle feeding in the history of this society we live in.
So…. thanks mom, for going through all that discomfort for me, even though your body would have done it if you had just squatted in a rice paddy in China at the right moment; means you could have gone back to work right after my birth instead of waiting a whole 2 weeks. (Now I am screaming about initial bonding.)
Wow. Do I harbour feelings? Forget about it.
I was thinking this morning about what motivates people to do anything. I have a retired friend who is going to continue movement of his body, mind and spirit because he’s seen people sit down after retirement and lose all impetus to live. Then I think of what it would be like to live in a place where people do nothing because they are going to die anyway, I get frightened. No purpose. No reason to do anything because death becomes them.
What would this place be if people had no purpose, no passion? We might as well all be dead.
I want to live.
Take it from Mikey…. again -
(picture me cavorting in my studio, pink nightie, singing along, clapping, stomping, loving it)
Heck with the modesty routine…. here I am almost live !!!
that bloom in the spring, tra la…… you know the song from the Mikado? Why do things pop into my mind willy nilly.
I’m taking time from my pursuits to tell of an interesting and bizarre occurrence this morning. I picked up the phone at work to relate something to a colleague who works quite a distance away. I could shout as some do, but it just doesn’t suit a lady. HAH! Stop laughing.
I dialed her number, and guess what! The voice was MINE!!! I had dialed my own number and my voice mail message told me that I was not available at that moment, but that I could leave a message for me, and I’d get back to me as soon as possible!
Actually, I just got to the first few words… got amazingly confused (rather like the times when you’re asleep and wake up not knowing whether it’s day or night, Sunday or Monday — you know the deal), and then realized the absurdity of the situation. I told someone later in the day. He asked if I had answered, and how the conversation ensued.
An odd experience.
That’s all for now…… tra la.
Next task is to go out into the cold into the clay studio and bring in the plates I got at the dollar store for this soiree tomorrow evening, and wash them. I’m sure many grubby hands have touched them since their production in some third world country…. stroganoff cooked by an all American guy, served on third world plates. Hmmmm… let’s call the whole thing off!
For jj….. by the way, the last time I roller skated, I was attempting to teach my son at a roller rink. We were doing well (he was 5). I fell, broke my left leg and my mom made me drive home in my stick shift car!
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