Tuesday, April 1, 2014

grain


i like the grainy pixilated photo capture, right now, i am acutely aware of every role i play- mother, wife, worker, writer, self caretaker, housekeeper, perpetual organizer. everything is deconstructed from one morning to the dark blue evening, and then it falls on me to reorganize, categorize, soothe, elucidate, call, write down, clean up, buy, cook, wipe, erect, construct, a whole lego world, or a whole pixilated world, take as you like, but many pieces and never finished in life. when i take hot baths late in the night and the house is all asleep and the sweat slides off my fingers onto the pages of the book i read, i am being deconstructed. 

the questions:

what is my life going to look like now that i work?

how can i continue to be a 120% mother?

can i write? can i complete my novel and have an almost full time day job?

will i ever finish my novel?

how much sleep do i need?

does it matter what i need- can i get what i need? 

where will we be living in three months? our lease is up and the owners are selling. i can't talk about this right now. it's too hard. we all love this place more than any place we've ever lived. we all love the street we live on- a street with houses but also an old style veterinarian clinic, coffee shop, liquor store and old fashioned park complete with piazza, a stream and a running train- more than any street we've ever lived on.

i still dance to music in my house and car. i still get ridiculous on the regular. i still eat gluten free cookies and drink too much milk and get a stomachache. i still mourn and worry and consider what i can do every day for abused and neglected children and human beings. i still pray and i still cry in my closet. i still watch West Wing with Lola every night. i still read. i still lick my lips too often. i still sit with my back scrunched up. i still feed the dogs and the children. i still talk on the phone to Dakota and FB with Ian. i still love Saturday mornings. 

but i feel so different.

something is happening, a shift, and if i were a bird, i'd incline my wings and go with the wind wherever it took me.

i went on a run late in the day today and the light was gorgeous. it rained all morning. i ran in the filtered sun and the entire world looked scrubbed new. i talked to my dead friends and grandparents. i ran and ran. and i inclined myself and flew.


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