Moving on...

Just moving on to a new blog, is all. See you there. I hope!

That's it, jitterbugs. Not the end of writing, oh no. But the end of this blog. I guess, sometimes, we just need a little jump just so we can look back at where we've leapt from. With the onset of this fever, I hope it's some cosmic metaphor for something great. Well. When I get over this stupid fever.

Many new things. Working on an Etsy store (or just store at large), working on my website (slowly), working on my art. Business card designs to improve. Uhm. Money to make so I'm not in debt right now. Job to find.

Starting to dip a toe into social networking, which I still do not approve for its suckhole-like properties (Twitter, I am still holding you at arm's length like the puppy that got in the garbage), but as an independent artist/crafter/what have you? How can I complain? Ravelry being a stunning example for discussion, tips, and marvelous patterns. Anyway.

Finding the rhythm

I've been moving so quickly the past week that I feel myself getting ahead of my heartbeat, and what better way to set a pace than by that alone?

For the first time, I attended APE in San Francisco, and it was amazing. My first comicon experience, and probably the best one to attend, as far as my interests are concerned. Scads of people—many whose work I've been following for years—and plenty of other artists and crafters. It was very heartening, to talk to other independent artists on how they've succeeded in making their art alone for a living, and how they've put out their work at all costs regardless of whether or not it meant having two other jobs.

So, in a fit of 16-hour insanity (mostly spet debating which wordpress theme would match my aesthetics for a temporary site), I threw up a website the very next day. More to come.

There are many things on my plate right now—things to do, bills to pay, money to make, another steady job to get, art to make, art to document, a website to get up, business cards to print . . . well, one gets the idea.

And all so wonderful. What else is there to say.

The breeze on my neck

I remember several years ago I read that women tend to cut their hair during times of great change. At the time I was on a constant binge of hair dye, so I rolled my eyes at the statistics and went on my merry way.

Then my boyfriend at the time broke up with me. And then I shaved my hair off.

Again, now with a change of resolve, a closer realignment of the direction I am heading in and some still-yet hazy destination, the chopping of hair. No tangling, no shedding trails, ears clear, and the sweetness of breeze.

An old poem I found

While summer cleaning today, I found an old folder full of things from my senior year of college and beyond...the original drawings for my tattoos, a few drawings of my ex-fiance (and that is an ugly kind of ex to have, regardless of how well it ended), a concept for a print I was going to make, and in the middle of all that, a random poem that I am not sure whether I like or not, but find somewhat amusing, regardless:

We speak no more on
Tongues that dance and deliver
swift, stunning kicks
with the base
of their soles
DO NOT DISTURB
is the war cry of our generation
Rest in Piece
one whole one
The rain is God's giant
morse-code
Message too grand
for us to ever unravel
pied pie pie π
The key to open the door
can also kill you
Kiss you
insult another
That one word will suffice
to carry our culture
through to infinity

And then what next?

This is what happens when you feed your head static: you slow down, not time. You think less, then want to think less. You may even completely withdrawal from society, or identifying with it. Or that may or may not have been just part of your personality in the beginning.

This is what happens when you analyze too deeply, with no safety rope tied around your waist (perhaps it is just tied around your neck): if you are in a positive frame of mind, you are enlightened. If you are in a negative frame of mind, regardless of source, you are completely mind-fucked, and want to feed your head static instead of thoughts.

Let us say, somewhat arrogantly, that you can understand multiple facets to a situation or an idea, understand different sides to the same story, understand enough that by this point you cannot tell what is "right" and what is "wrong," or at least, where you stand on a given situation because it makes sense whichever way you look at it, whether it be a million different perspectives, or two contrary ones.

And then one wonders what happened to that point in time where they were looking at everything in a positive light, or at least a light of peaceful amusement.

Ah, but if you were never down, how could you appreciate the times when you are up?

To instigate that turn in the cycle is my key obstacle. And if I do not love myself at this point, I do love a good challenge.

6am baking of a peach pie, late night chicken and dumplings, coffee with a hint of molasses, and I'm good to go again.

On Direction

I wonder what purpose my life would be drawn to should I lose or lose use of both my hands, darling little things they are.

So is the question not to clarify purpose, but find the essence of that purpose.

Mixed Bag Lesson

That which I cannot change, teach me to love.

That which I cannot stand, may I be able to change.

Of neither, may I be able to walk away from without remorse.