Monday, April 27, 2009


Yes!!!!! Today I handed in "The Package" of all of my work. Unfortunately, since I had the hospital thing going on, I now have to get a note from the doctor verfying that I was not able to attend the faculty review and he will waive that. Its sort of a letdown, because I did want some faculty input...not enought to do the other option (which I will have to if I cannot for some reason get this note, but we are not even claiming that!!!) of taking an incomplete to finish the class in the fall!!! No! Like I said, we are not claiming THAT!! I'm marking this baby to the black! Tomorrow I need to make a rash of graduation related phone calls about diplomas and cap and gown pictures (for mom, she has to have that picture!) I am just going to proceed with optimism and all will go well. I am so happy!!!

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Days Without Smoking - 11! And Acupuncture :)

So, of course getting sick was the impetus, but still...11 days is 11 days! And, I went to acupuncture for the first time yesterday and I feel GREAT!! It was nothing like I imagined it to be, sort of a forced "Time Out". Let back the recliner, smell the aromatherapy, take in the soothing sages and warm oranges of the walls, (Listen to the others who are in the midst of their treatment snore!, take a nap, wake up REFRESHED and refitalized. Your Qi runneth over! I highly recommend this to everyone, no matter the malady. A balanced Qi is a step in the right direction.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

#34 Read 20 of my OWN books!

The Shack The Shack by William P. Young

My review

rating: 3 of 5 stars
Interesting setting to ponder some of the paradoxes of life and living in Spirit. I found a lot of good points to revisit. May read again.

View all my reviews.

The Da Vinci Code The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
The mystery itself was "OK" but, as an artist, and one who is intrigued by conspiracy, symbology, history, and the divine goddess/sacred feminine, those elements really appealed to me and got me interested in further research around those topics.

View all my reviews.

Pay Attention to the Purple!

It's easy to mark something "in progress" and mosey on down to road to "in progress" something else. Its something else to FINISH or ACCOMPLISH the "in progress"! For example, I have not been doing ANY situps! Just because I did for a few nights straight, is that still "in progress"? I think that I will do an "In Progress" report later and may have to change some of them back to black. Sorry, but if you can't be honest with yourself, then you're lying to everybody!! (I made that up!)


Reel Me In!

OK, I am laid up for this week because I had an odd (and very scary) episode last week where my blood pressure shot up sky high and I began experiencing vertigo. Now, you want to talk about scared? I thought I was having a stroke! I ended up in the hospital for a couple of days and am basically tied to the house now because the mere thought of driving in a car makes me want to throw up! (The 10 minute ride I took yesterday, did.) I feel basically OK when I'm laying down, but, as I tool around here wandering from the bathroom, to the kitchen, to the computer, to the bed, the dizziness revs its engines. I'm thankful for this laptop that I'm sharing the sheets with! We have been getting along great! I have been working on my job's website and blog a little, have been doing some media related research, and getting excited overall about getting better and getting back to the trenches!!

The header for this post, however, reminds me of my "Mile Wide Inch Deep" syndrome. Like I said, I absolutely love mining the internet for jewels and gems and am never dissappointed. Its what to DO with all that information that stymies me. My "favorites" list is bulging at the pixels, threatening to spillout all over the top of my desk, and I sure as hell don't remember what all those "favorites" are! (Hence #13 on my 101 list!) Part of it is learning to relax and trust that the information will be there (somewhere on the world wide web) when i am in need of it. I need to give the smackdown to my inner packrat!

Then I get all overwhelmed to the point of inertia. Too much input. After I have skipped around admiring websites that I thought would be good design examples for our work site, finding a ridiculously cool website about eco-urban planning (Center for Urban Pedagogy), downloading a gold mine of Second Life Curriculum from the blessed and generous,I began to research how to do a Podcast! Needless to say, I need to reel it in! After flirting with mashups and twibes in the virtual pick up joint, and deciding to learn how to make blog templates (cuz I am just not feeling this one anymore, no offense to anyone...), I fell back among the pillows exhausted, head pounding, palms sweaty!

Whew! That called for a cup of Sleepytime and a few whiffs of eucalyptus oil!

But you know what? I feel good. I feel excited again about this project called Me. And as I step back and give the Universe room to do its thing, I am basking in the glow of anticipation. When I am back on my feet, I WILL hit the ground running! (ok, ok, at a steady marathon type pace, not a sprint!)

Sunday, April 12, 2009

NaPoWriMo#12 - Itinerary


Let’s welcome the morning into our bones,
breathe Detroit into our entwined limbs,
wash our laundry in rice milk and Vernors.
Pack a lunch of your south wind lilt
and dusky sweet Arkansas jam from
plums full of stolen summertime,
drive east down Woodward
with apple blossoms in my hair
and a honey bee halo,
trainspot on the perfect rooftop,
guess where the graffiti is going.
Take the MacArthur Bridge to Hog Island,
throw genie lamps in to Scott Fountain,
worship painted turtles.
Throw flower bombs into the leftover shell of Tiger Stadium
so our story can bloom as wild flowers
and bring pleasure to a stranger’s day.
Dip our toes in Grand River flowing west,
I’ll tell you about ‘67
and the difference between riot and rebellion.
Drive in Venn Diagrams
and stake our claim on the commons.
Let’s hole up in Baker’s and
watch Jabari play the drums.
Eat chicken wings and wish on green stars,
skip Petosky stones across the skies.
Unfold a crisp new map
slide our palms across the cool miles
and enjoy getting lost in
legend waiting to be written.

Notes: The prompt

napowrimo #12: where do you come from?
Another Sunday, another day of (poetic) introspection … .

So, where do you come from? The mountains? The plains? The city? Do you come from spaghetti on Sundays? Brown bag lunches? Do you come from shag carpeting and plastic slip covers on the sofa? Cows out the kitchen window? Do you hail from noise and congestion or stars and silence?

Today, think about where you grew up. The country, the state, the town, the street, the house, the bedroom, the bed. Be specific. Be sensual (as in capture the smells, the sounds, the taste, the scratch of your towels without fabric softener). Write a poem that shows where you come from in all its unique glory.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

NaPoWriMo #11.5 Just Your Average Saturday at the Coffee House

The stranger in front of me invites intimacy.
His crotch is at eye level and I shamelessly

admire the shadowy dust that lines his belly
with a delicate circular dent. Would he

welcome my thumbs pressed upon his skin,
tracing creation to where his jeans begin?

His arms reach up to receive “Heaven’s Call”
he removes the miniature landscape from the wall,

piling the picture with the rest that lean softly.
He moves on down the row, I go back to sipping coffee.

Notes: So, I'm minding my own biz at a tiny table in the Java Hut and this dude decides its a good idea to reach over my table to get his artwork off of the wall. I look up from beneath my hat brim and come face to face with the anonymous "excuse me" or anything. Trips! LOL!!

NaPoWriMo #11 Pot of Gold Haiku

Make rainbows of true
colors, not pigments of the

NaPoWriMo #10 - We Who Are Not Afraid

We who are not afraid
drape gauze about our heads
and meld into a room full of strangers.

Kissing each other through our masks,
anonymity suspends judgement.
The better of us, gotten by curiousity.

The soft scrape of an ace
on a black jack table,
this time it might be exactly what we need.

Possibilities, endless like fingerless
gloves, groping in the dark
trying to make out the shape of feelings

with frostbitten fingertips,
still sore from touching toward love.
As the seamstress, missing her thimble,

sips crimson consequence
released by a careless steel point
plunged into the soft pad of her thumb,

or the patch of burn left on tongue,
from scalding hot Godiva lurking
beneath a cool froth of cream,

we who are not afraid
stitch on,
sip on,

carry on.
Striking the flint repeatedly,
inviting the nimble spark

to pass through cold corridors,
into the corners, beyond the quicksand,
through the backs of wardrobes,

We tuck the looking forward to
into the cracks, inflating the sails for yet another
maiden voyage.

Notes: really don't dig the title...need help.

inspired by the read write prompt "Thrift Store" where we were to take something from another source as inspiration (supposed to be the actual text, repurposed but exercising my poetic license, I used a photo from the book "I Seem To Be A Verb" for this...)

NaPrWriMo #9 -Paradise

I’m thinking of ambrosia
and all things golden
like sun soaking into my locs,
and the cool whipped yellow
of raw honey drizzled
on hot biscuts,
kissing through crumbs,
sticky pineapple juice,
delicious apples, and the tart
swirls at the end
of a good chardonnay,
bubbles in champagne,
the afterglow on our skin,
when we make love for


Notes: This is just the beginning, i want to turn this more into an ode.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Boy do I have a LOT to blog about!!!

When will I have time to discuss all that has been going on! I think the catch phrase is "next level", aligning my own daily actions with my thought and purpose. An all new "To Do" list is in order, or at least I am aware of the discrepancies! More on this later!

Day#5 - Basement Beatitudes

Basement Beatitudes

Chapter 1 Verse 1

Sitting on a milk crate in the basement, sipping on amber
through a haze of first hand smoke and second hand clothes.
The furnace kicks on and breathes life into gaudy boas of
tinsel,metallic caterpillars that snaked through artificial
evergreen and heirloom ornaments of brittle colored glass,
remnants of holidays past. Under the stairs sits the four foot
tall lawn Santa I used to dance with and sing to, in front of
the smoky mirror, practicing “Star Love” endlessly for the
Gong Show. Surely if Cheryl Lynn could do it, so could I.

Chapter 1 Verse 2

My back rests against the cool deep freezer, Depression era hope
chest. It hold mostly unrecognizable lumps of frost and ice
crystals now, no more Eastern Market bounty or leftover
family reunion cake. The top won’t stand up by itself anymore
from late night covert phone call missions, and the tension of
awkward straps and buttons being tugged loose. We accommodated
our curiosity as only the young can, by doing. Smoking cigarettes
and spitting in the wash tub, we made up dance routines to Ashford
and Simpson. There was no stopping us.

Chapter 1 Verse 3

In a dry cleaners bag are carefully wrapped sprigs of baby’s
breath, dried from weddings gone by. Marriages that have since
died long slow deaths from anniversary to anniversary. The
shelves are stacked with muffin tins and crockery that used to
centerpiece family dinners. On a nail in the wall hang my
roller skates, the pom-poms disintegrating into a burgundy dust.
(My pom-poms matched my wheels, which was about as good
as it got at Northland Roller Rink.) I discovered the hard way,
that I’m no good at skating backwards.

NaPoWriMo#8 - Charming Haiku

Willingness to kiss a
stranger, has its benefits.
Ask any toad.

NaPoWriMo#4 - Chalkboard Circus

Chalkboard Circus

The ring leader cracks the whip
and the public address system
springs to life.
Jagged edged announcements,
sprinkled with threats, snare
the senses like the slide of
a trombone.
Bang the drum!
Ring the bell!
Beautiful creatures emerge
simultaneously from crowded cages,
lions, tigers, and bears dressed in finery,
holding tightly to hopes
kept on short strings.
The march orderly,
rounded up for the assembly
by rubbernoses and air horns,
insults and mockery.
They leap gracefully through
fiery hoops, looking back at
their tormentors, snarling.
Ready to break free until
they see the daring young man
on the flying trapeze
shot down for trying to fly.

Dedicated to BJ and savage inequalities everywhere

Saturday, April 4, 2009

NaPoWriMo #3 again Playing House

Playing House - Tritina

Ours is a game I’ve decided not to play
anymore, rearranging furniture in this house
and stitching samplers of imaginary memories

In between cracked, sepia toned memories
the background music begins to play
thin strains of “There’s a Stranger In My House”.

And, because our love lives in a glass house,
it shatters from having to share
its rooms with rock-throwers at play.

We play house instead of home and
share only memories of broken dreams.

NaPoWriMo #3 Celibacy Haiku

Couldn't get with the concept or number three here are three lines:

While fasting from sex,
I discovered you weren't more
than a hunger pang.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

NaPoWriMo #2 - Secret Storm

Secret Storm

A nimbus gray sky speaks foreboding,
the shade of old limbs, aching with memory.
Dense clouds swell with unspoken words,
fog protectively clings to her lips,
precipitation collects at the back of her throat.
She’s so quiet, he’s so calm.
Nostils flared with premonition,
they can smell it in the air.

Brewing in the stomach’s pit.
the wind whips suppressed sentiment.
Dirty laundry flaps empty arms
and, one by one, the layers of lies come loose.
With lightning rod elocution
she turns and spews twin volts of truth.
The current cauterizes his smoky tongue.
It will never strike this same place twice.


Notes: Today's assignment, stretchy metaphor

Take 5 nouns and verbs associated with one area and use them to write an extended metaphor about another subject.

Mine was storms and communication

Inspired by the old soap opera title "Secret Strom"

#50 - Smoosh the Boobies!! Done!!

Well, I must say, I've had better fun in other places! But,I'm so pleased to have taken this step. It has only taken me two years to do the damn thing. Life tries its best to get in the way sometimes, or we get in our own way! It is so hard not to have an advewrsarial relationship with yourself. We know the things that are good for us, but we are conditioned to want other things. Or swell up with resentment that we can't or shouldn't have certain things (Hump, who is he to tell ME i can't have ice cream? or I'll smoke when and where I feel!)because so much of who we are revolves around an illusion of freedom, or at least a misconception.

So, with my own health and self as an interest project, I got the boobies smooshed today and hopefully all will be well!

Napowrimo#2 - Stretchy Metaphors

"Here’s today’s challenge: find five verbs and five nouns from one subject area, and use them to write about another subject. My son had this assignment in his college poetry class, and he culled his words from biology and then wrote about technology. The idea is to create an extended metaphor in a short poem, of maybe ten to twelve lines."

compost (noun and/or verb)
compost bin
global warming
invasive species
green (anything)
wind turbine


big top
lion tamer
wild animals
ring leader
whip cracking
rings of fire blazing
lions, tigers, bears, elephants
dressed in finery
monkeys in dresses
how many clowns can fit
rubber noses and blow horns

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Burning Bowl - NaPoWriMo #1

Burning Bowl

She blends right in.
into the solemn lines of women
advancing from the north,
south, east, and west
from roads commonly travelled;
desire lines are well worn paths through time.
she blends right in.

slip of paper in hand
hope in heart
desparately seeking release and relief
names written over and over
one for every “if only…”
trying to fit every regret and disappointment
on the ridiculously tiny scrap

along with rages and weary troublesome thoughts
that stick to the cerebellum
like cave dwellers
digging their tiny feet into synapses
firing on repeat
gray bats resting in their chambers
startled into flight by the bright light

as the ladies stick lit candles into their chest cavities.

the walls alight to show remnants of
cuneiform conversations
etched on clay tablets
their longings and lonelys spindle as stalactites
extending endlessly from the ceiling

if only she had said no
if only she had said good by
if only she had gathered her boundaries around her
and politely declined
if only she had remembered the lessons already learned
if only her parted thighs sent up smoke signals
instead of siren’s cries

the hieroglyphics tell the story
“There was a fire here”
Where feelings used to burn so brightly,
white hot, daring reason to intervene,
there is now just the charred remains
and scripted promises on flash paper
as each is dropped into the burning bowl

They take up arms lifting their clean slates to the sun
sage smudge sticks and damp grass swirl
smoky tendrils signaling the end of retrospection
and the beginning of their healing
giving permission to breathe again
leaving behind names spelled out
in a never-ending thread of ashes.


Notes: My list of 5 things in front of me was


I considered a needle of rain, a thread of rain, a rain of ashes, and a thread of ashes. Challeged myself not to use rain, so thread of ashes it is!!

Inspired by reflecting on a New Year's Burning Bowl ceremony I attended.

napowrimo #1:

napowrimo #1: let’s get it started, and, poet, can you spare a word?
Welcome to National Insanity Poetry Month! We’re going to start off easy.


The definition that I like best is “two disparate things yoked together to create new meaning.” Not sure where I heard that — might have been a professor, might have been a drunken poet … . Either way, it’s an apt description!

Right now, at this very minute, list five things in front of you. In front of you being a relative term: on your desk, on your arm, out your window … . Choose the two most disparate things and yoke them together into a fabulous metaphor. Now, use it in a poem.