Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Percolating.

Friends and lovies keep asking why I am not blogging.

Good question. Since my dad died, I cannot write. Cannot write a single sentence without immense effort. Effort like I am trying to write a computer program for Mr. Gilger's Computer Science class for my final grade. Without Pancho writing it for me....

I choose to think of it as percolating. My thoughts and observations are slowly becoming active, gradually becoming lively. That, or I am about to hit a midlife crisis. Head Frikking on. Whatever.

This is the face of Percolation. Or skyping with my monkey. Pick one.
Change is afoot, buttercups. Not sure what this change stuff is, but change is afoot. 

Peace and percolating and love and vulnerability. XOXO

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Wordiness

I collect words. I have scraps of paper, corners of napkins, pictures on my phone, all of words. If I chose what covers my walls, I would have walls of books, and canvases of wordy quotes. My friends are rarely surprised when they get a random text from me, saying "Could you look in that book on your coffee table and tell me what the quote was at the beginning/middle/end?"



When I hear a minister drop the word 'brevity' in his sermon, I want to stand up and say 'AMEN'. When one of my monkeys calls the other 'malevolent', I am so proud of the vocabulary that I have to remember this is not an acceptable word to call a family member. Out loud. If someone uses 'salacious' or 'pedantic' or 'chicanery', I honestly feel my heart leap a little.

I also have quite a collection of curse words. These, I would not splash on canvases across my wall, or tattoo on my wrist. However, if we are being honest, a well-placed curse word gets the point across much better than a wishy-washy "Beans and Rice" or "Gosh Darnit." I was around my (LOVED AND ADORED :)) sister this weekend, and was well aware that her kids probably don't hear a fifteen syllable variation of the F word when she pulls a hamstring. It's a journey, cupcakes. Littered with curse words and sore muscles, in my case.

That being said, I am constantly learning that words have a hefty power. Once said, they cannot be unsaid. Once the words cross your lips, you cannot grab them and stuff them back down. I am trying to choose them honestly and well, trying to make sure the ones that I would hang on my walls are the ones that cross my lips. Although I am about to go for a run, with a throbbing sciatic nerve. So if you hear a torrent of curse words, well. Yeah.



Peace and love and sweet whispers. XOXO