Hope Rocks Deep Inside Me

I'm getting closer to the fearless girl I used to be!

Hi Everyone~

I'm still on the mend from the surgery. I can already tell the difference it's made on my body. The right side and mid section of my abdomen already feels freer. I had no idea how bound up the adhesions had made me feel.

I see the surgery as a metaphor to my overall healing; physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. The pictures the doc took while exploring my abdomen are icky and uber cool at the same time. All I can say is that the adhesions looked like ropes, or tendons, large rubber bands, spider webs or tentacles that connected parts of my body together that should not be connected.

I'm surprised I'd be this sore and exhausted...major exhaustion. But having this down time has made me realize the surgery to remove these tentacles will set me free. Free from the ropes that bound me to the past, my fears, my trauma that started the PTSD, and every link that's held me to the past is gone. I'm free to make a new future. Write a new story. Go on with my life. Make life better than before the accident. I am FREE!

The doc told Superman and Dylan, my BFF, there was not as many adhesions as he'd expected. He said I had a good looking liver. I don't know whether to blush or throw up.... lol But seriously it means so much to know my liver looks good. What a weight lifted off my mind. Plus, he left my inner squirrel untouched. That squirrel helps my child heart come out and play. I need it as much as I need my heart.

Hope Rocks (click link highlighted) will officially start next Thursday instead of today. I need an extra week to rest and heal. I'll post more details as I feel up to it. I'm hoping for a speedy recovery but I don't want to take on too much, too soon, and relapse. Go ahead and start painting your rocks if you haven't already.

I'd love to hear from you in my comment section while I'm healing. It would be like getting get well cards in my mailbox.

Much love and thanks for all for your prayers!!

Thighs Does Matter

There's one kind of robbery that's the worst kind of all. Oh it's sneaky, and if you're not watching closely, you'll lose your ass. You can often uncover the underhanded deed when you're standing in the check out line at the store thumbing through a magazine, patiently waiting your turn. Then BAM! The covert crime jumps up, and smacks you in the face! Literally...

Right there on page 72. You find a shot of yourself in the Victoria Secret ad but someone cut YOUR head off your body, and placed some strange woman's face where yours used to be! What really sucks is when you start screaming about this blatant form of thievery to the people standing in line with you--they just look at you like you're a loon, or a complete loser, even if you have proof you've been robbed. This has happened over, and over, and over to me.

I finally found a way to get revenge. FaceinHole. Look at my furrrrreeeeking gorgeous thighs would ya??? My face + someone else's body. A thigh for a thigh. Brilliant! I love the way my mind works sometimes... I'm not only taking back my thighs... I'm taking back my life!

I was talking to Superman tonight on the phone and told him, "I'm going to be living with Gusto this next year." I quickly added, "You understand I need him in my life right now! One day I'll live with you..."

I realized I'd let the cat out of the bag when Opie Taylor sauntered over, and meowed, "What about me??? I thought you were living with me!?"

Lord my frigging life can get complicated so dang fast sometimes. I'd just blurted out I was planning on having an affair to Superman and Opie T.

You know what Superman said???

He said, "There's room for all of us in your life, including Gusto." Opie just purred.

You see, peeps, I want to make 2010 the best ever. I want to take every step possible to conquer PTSD so I'll stop losing precious time being sick, spending long hours at the doctor's office, and the hospital like I did today getting my Echocardiogram done. Or the time it takes to recover from being worn thin by stress related illnesses. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired!

I've been looking for my mantra, my word for the new year, my motto for 2010, my mission statement for seizing the moments I've missed while I've been blind dating Stress. I found it.

GUSTO...
I'm living with Gusto
in 2010

After I came home from the hospital today I took a much needed nap. I had a lot of time waiting between phases of the test today to think about what I wanted to change in my life to make the quality better. So I decided to cozy up to Gusto. And it felt darn good. After being such a bold little tart, he agreed to move in with me right away. Pfftttt... No Pre-Nup needed.

So that's the thighs of it, peeps.
I've been living with someone else's head
on my body for too long...

I'll update you about the results of my tests as soon as I get them. Lawd knows I'm gonna need a good heart to keep up with 3 men... and a lacy pair of Monkey Pantz to show off my sessy, new thighs. Oh, baby!

Smoke Free One Year Anniversary

I did it! It's been a full year. No cigarettes. No coughing when I laugh. No smelly clothes, breath, hair, car, house, fingers, furniture, drapes.... I can hold my grandson knowing he will not have any 3rd hand smoke from my clothes touching his sweet face. I can kiss Superman without going through the de-stink ritual. I don't have to stand out in the frigid winter air outside a restaurant to puff. I don't have to run out at 11:00 pm to get a pack just in case the 3 cigarettes I have left may not get me through the night.

I have saved a ton of money. Average pack is $5.oo. I was smoking 1.5-2 packs a day. That's roughly $275-350 a month.

My reward [besides better health] will be getting my teeth whitened.

Yeah, baby! I totally deserve it!

Tales of the Titmouse

Topa Topa Mountain in Ojai, CA.
The Pink Moment
The brief moment when the sunset turns the mountain face a radiant pink.

Yesterday a long awaited gift arrived. It's a gift that spent 20 years (probably more than twenty) traveling through the heart, and mind, of a talented soul searching for just the right words, and message to send to its readers. The gift is a newly published book by my dear, long time friend, Pamela Barrett. "Tales of the Titmouse", One Woman's Journey Out of Darkness, you can find it on Amazon by clicking HERE.

I remember Pam reading excerpts over the phone to me in the late 80's, and being mesmerized by every word. I stood there with the phone cupped to my ear, and knew Pam was on her way to becoming a published author. Pam and I go way back to the early 70's. I used to work for her Dad as a waitress in his restaurant/coffee shop (I worked for him years later at another restaurant in Ojai, CA, named the Sand Dollar, where many of my friends in the band, The Country Z Men, went on to play with Jimmy Messina, and Clint Black). Pam helped him manage the coffee shop and played hostess with the mostest.

It's in this very same restaurant I met another dear friend, Penny (she's featured in the book) who later became my maid of honor at my wedding. Penny was my ultimate roll model for becoming a hippy, a true hippy. Her husband was an artist, and hanging out at her house was sheer bliss for me--an aspiring artist, musician and hippy-wanna-be-flower-child. I spent many hours curled up at Penny's feet in her plant shop gleaning life skills, and ideas of what to do with my life.

Sweet, sweet Ojai, CA, "The Valley of the Moon" as it is called by the Chumash Indians. Locals also refer to it as the "nest". Although the three of us no longer live there, Ojai will forever live in us. The pictures taken of me with my band Silver Rose were taken in front of a house both Pam and I lived in. Our lives have criss-crossed, and paralleled in so many ways, you'd have thought we planned it that way. We didn't. Perhaps it's because all three of us have a genuine hunger for spiritual matters, and long for our Higher Powers to lead us on a path of understanding, love and serenity.

Pam's story will remind you of how we are all searching for answers, for truth, for love, for acceptance, but especially for hope. If you need a gift of encouragement for someone you love, or yourself, please add "Tales of the Titmouse" to your list of must haves. You can find Pam at her blog, Sister Gilby Says.

Congratulations, Pam. I'm so very, very proud of you for making it to the finish line. You give all of us with stories to tell, and write, hope. Thank you~ Behind Pam is the painting, John Barrett, her artist husband did for the cover of the book. You should see the Christmas card he made me!!! These two make each other shine, and I am in awe of how their gifts came together in a such a perfect union.
I'm not going to give any details of what is inside the book except once you start reading it--you will not be able to put it down....

Not Weighting Any More

Good week. Great results, plus lost some of me along the weigh. OK the barium was... Ummmmm, shall I say weighty. I believe that crap is closer to being like cement than glue in your pipe-a-roos---gross stuff. But it was kind of fun watching it pass through my physical pipes on the "big screen"... Between taking X-rays, the tech pointed out what everything was inside of me as the chalky, white, alien, tar baby first lit up my esophagus, then my intestines, and finally my large intestine.

I twisted my brow in a knot a few times asking her, "What IS that??" Think about it. We don't really get to see what is inside us. We only see the outside, and inside is an awesome machine we rarely even think about as it functions around the clock....24-7... keeping us alive. Plus, I'm curly, and curvy on the inside. Fluffy. Billowy. TMI?? Sowwy...

Please note:
Being off of sugar can make you feel giddy... stoned like. So a lot of this ramblin' sh*t ain't my fault....

This is how I felt when I quit smoking cigs last December, too. I got a head rush when the oxygen finally hit my brain after my blood veins became unclogged from all the nicotine, and tar. Plain oxygen gave me a buzz. A whole new twist on being an airhead... Some of you who have quit tobacco know just what I'm talking about, and now that I'm giving sugar the ole' stink eye... I've been babbling back and forth to myself like Cheech and Chong in a 70's movie. I guess detoxing has its perks. Anywhooooo... where was I??

Something about weight. Let me think a minute. Oh wait it was about my pipes. I was going to say.... no one tells you how freaky it is to see barium come out the "other" end. It's white with a grayish tint to it. Pasty gray. I felt so alienish. For freaking days. Sowwy, another sugah rush gone bad. I'll clean up my potty mouth.

More weighty matters??? Yes, what was the weighty matter this week?

When I weighed in at the doctors 1.5 weeks ago I weighed 191 lbs. I can barely breathe after typing that. Now that is the alien in my body--the extra weight. Those lines around my eyes--aliens, too, dang-it! I look at myself sometimes, and can't help but think of that Bonnie Raitt song, Nick of Time" where it says:

"I see my folks are getting on and I watch their bodies change
I know they see the same in me and it makes us both feel strange
No matter how you tell yourself, it's what we all go through
Those lines are pretty hard to take when they're starin' back at you
Scared to run out of time

When did the choices get so hard,
there's so much more at stake
Life gets mighty precious
When there's less of it to waste
Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Scared to run out of time"

I'm not here to have a pity party about "aging". I earned this right of passage. And I know for sure after going off that embankment in the accident I'm especially grateful to be alive, let alone any age, even if some people consider my age to be old. That inner "you" still expects to see "you" looking back...not that old girl-guy?! Friends, what I know is this;

I'm at a cross road in my life regarding my future health, and I need to take better care of myself while I still have a self to take care of...

Most of you reading this are probably baby boomers. Right? So you may understand how I feel when I say I don't want to waste any time making some positive changes in my personal health. I have this wild child inside me that thinks she can keep eating bad foods, and get no exercise and not have any repercussions from it. I think it's time I told myself, "Girl, you got yourself into this out of shape mess and you're the only one who can get you out of it." I want to feel vibrant inside and look vibrant on the outside! I want my zest back!

Who doesn't want to get an instant skinny fix simply by reading that article about crunches in Absmopolitan.

You mean, "I gotta work for it? But...."

[But... but.... butt bigger butttt....]

I am the only one who can fix me whether it's losing 5 pounds or 105 pounds.

My weight loss goals have everything to do with feeling good, and having great health. Looking good, and feeling good about one's self are light years away from each other. I don't have to tell you that one. I have to tell myself that, and somewhere in the middle, I want a firm grasp on both of those. I had so many of you JUMP UP and say, "I'm going with you, Lille!!! I'm losing my fluff with you, too. I want more energy. I want to get in shape. I want to lose some poundage~~~

Sah-weet-sassy-molassy-monky-pants!

So who wants to know my weight loss this week??? I have news. Weighty News.

I do need to address one thing first though. I had to change my starting weight. I weighed myself when I got home on my digital scale [God, I love this scale as much as I love a skinny mirror in a lingerie store] and it said I weighed 188.5--not the whopping 191 my doctor's lying hunk of junk scale said I did. I weighed myself two days in a row to make sure I had a steady starting weight. Psssttttt.... We all know a doctor's scale makes you weigh as much as an entire mini van with 18 bags of groceries in the back seat plus a zebra .... or two strapped on the bike rack in back. Ahem... **cough***cough**

4.5 pounds. I lost 4.5 pounds!!!! This was not painful, people. I actually ate more than I usually do. My choices were better though. Cutting out sugar was huge. Plus no cream my coffee. I wanted to slit my 'caffeine filled-with-cream-n-sugah' veins just thinking of the deprivation of having no twins in my java. I got over wanting it in under 3 days. I am in shock! Coffee actually tastes good nekkie. WTFrappucino! Who'da thunk it?

A quick question for you.

How many of you would be interested in meeting here with me for 5-15 minutes for a live vlog? A little fun so we can put the wag back in our scally's. A little silliness and motivation for those of you who'd like to do this together. Just think you'll all get to see me 'weighs-ting away to nothin' before your eyes... and you will be, too.

A time suggestion might be good, too. Mornings? Noon? Afternoons? Evenings? More than once a week perhaps?? Mix it up?? Let me hear from you... Who's in and when?

[insert 3rd grade girl giggle here]

New Year's Resolution Starts NOW

Holy Crap.... I am totally stepping out and putting it all out there [here?] I cannot wait until January 1st to start taking healthy measures. It never works when I try to change/start something on that day anyway. Honestly---does it for you? Probably not.

Example:

Last December 14 I quit smoking. I never intended to quit that day. I planned to stop "one day"...but never set a target date. I knew I wanted to do it before my grandson, Emery, was born. He was due the end of December. He was born January 1, 2009. So I guess in a way I can say he was my New Year's Resolution.

I was in the hospital, and it was bitter, frigidly cold last winter. I was sneaking out to puff with my IV pole in tow. People were staring at me because I was only wearing my hospital issue socks, and had a blanket tossed over my shoulders, and hospital gown. Pathetic picture now that I think about it. I was sicker than a dog, and the urge to smoke was so huge I risked getting sicker to have a cigarette.

The week before I went into the hospital, I told Superman I wished I could just go somewhere, like spa or retreat where no one smoked so I could have a few days to detox from cigarettes. I can't say a hospital stay was exactly what I had planned but it certainly presented itself to me in the exact way I needed to have a smoke free environment to stop. I tossed my pack, and lighter in the trash in the hospital lobby and hobbled, practically frost bitten back to my room. I asked the nurse for a Nicotine patch. My prayer was answered any way you look at it... For that, I'm eternally grateful.

I can't say it's been easy but it's been worth it. I was able to greet my grandson into the world smoke free and with no second hand smoke at my home or third hand smoke on my clothes, fingers or breath. I still think about a cigarette, and admit I've stared at some good looking butts lying on the sidewalk with lust and hunger. Sick... I know but it is an addiction that doesn't respect any boundaries or borders you place on it. I may always have to do battle with this villain. That's OK. My health, and my family is worth it.

So Here's The Skinny

I have put on 30 pounds since the auto accident May 4, 2008. I was 10 lbs over my goal weight then. Now I know I shouldn't be so hard on myself because I've had 2 surgeries this past year, quit smoking, and have been battling some major battles with PTSD. But something has to stop [or start] before I find myself on the other side of 200 pounds. I'm not too far from that now.

Oh crap... double crap...crap crappity crap... Here it comes. Oh crap.... I weigh... oh may I please say crap again??? OK thanks. CRAP!

I weigh 191 frapping, fluffy pounds! I can flat out tell you my driver's license doesn't say that! I had my license renewed recently and asked the lady behind the counter if I could be arrested for "fudging" the weight question. She said if that were the case we'd all be in jail.... whew.

So I joined the Joy Fit Club today, and I am going to work to bring some good things to my life, and my future. My health is key to any permanent gift I could give myself. So if any of you'd like to join me in making some healthy goals for yourself, please join me. I'm listed under Woodstock Lily. I have nothing to hide, and need the accountability.

I'll be vlogging so you can see me "waist" away. BTW I measured my waist today, too. That shrill scream heard from coast to coast was me... Poor Opie Taylor. He pooped on the rug because I screamed so loud! [I lied... he just ran out of the room like he'd been scalded] My waist measures [can I lie here???? puleeeezzzeeeeee!] Crap, crap, crappity crapolla!

40 inches That's just wrong!
Who's body is this anyway????

Ummmm Opie didn't raise his paw on that question... so it must be my lily-livered, shaking hand weakly rising to the occasion....

OK I feel lighter just getting that off my chest. I need to eat well. Exercise. And love me back to wholeness. I want to invest in the whole package, my mind, my body, and my spirit. I haven't come this far, baby, to not be the best I can be all around. My grandson needs his "Birdie" to be able to fly, flit and be fit.

I'll update my progress weekly. There's a little gadget on my side bar with a frog under the lily pads that will also let you see how I'm doing.

So ready.... set.... go! I'm officially on my way! Carpe Diem! [ya'll thought I was going to say Crapie Diem....didn't ya???]

Yard Machine Mama

It's official. I've survived my life once again. Looking back I see the "Trip Off I-68" was just a practice run for mowing this bad boy of a hill. Pffftttttt....some of you may be saying. "That's a bunny slope. Woosie!" Well then--so be it. I'm officially a woosie britches. But I challenge any one not to have their heart race just a little bit staring death in the face on the down slope of my new front lawn.

It had been a little over 4 years since I'd mowed a lawn as big as this one. Mowing has always been a simple pleasure in my life, and I actually find it meditative. I don't know what it is about mowing (or rather riding a mower) that stimulates some deep thinking. I have solved some major issues dodging tree limbs with grass clippings flying helter-skelter, and wiping sweat off my brow. It's therapy for me. So learning the lawn care here at the new nest would be mine, all mine, was music to my ears.
Right out of the chute I had to find the choke. Easy you say. Not so fast.... The knob had been broken off. Plus, the previous owner of the mower had cut the cable, too. I had to locate the end of it WAAAAAAAYYYYYY under the hood, and then figure out how to make it work. I got er' going right away...well almost. I had to let er' recoup after flooding the engine with too much gas. Stop snickering...

You know it's a rough road ahead when the neighbors all come out to watch the newbie on the country block mow her Alpine-like front yard the very first time. I'm telling you they came out in droves, and turned their lawn chairs toward the "show". I swear I saw $20's being exchanged over fences. They were placing bets on how many turns it would take before I bit the grass big time. Yep, they were rockin', grinnin', and watchin' me the entire time. I got a little wave and head nod from the neighbors directly adjacent to my yard. AND I'm sure it was difficult for them to mask the exhilaration of having front row seats or to keep from holding up their score cards with each pass of the mower.

Common sense (or some voice of reason) told me take the mower to the bottom of the drive and then approach the uphill trek from there. I suppose it was impatience that made me try to make a turn on the slope. Crappola! Money started exchanging hands rapid fire across fences on that dimwitted maneuver.

I sucked in a breath so deep it made my eyes bulge in my head. How my neighbors refrained from letting out some knee slapping guffaws is beyond me. I managed to keep from widdling my britches as the mower tilted sideways, and somehow stifled a full-throated scream at the same time. I had goose bumps for the next 10 minutes, and hoped my sunglasses covered the protruding whites of my eyes. I held on. The mower slowed gears as I crept down the hill. I had to remind myself to breathe...breathe....breathe.

I remember looking at all my options should the mower suddenly lunge forward on the downhill trip. I saw a clump of bushes with a couple of rocks. Ewwwww... I saw the 4 foot wide ditch at the bottom of the hill. Bigger Ewwwwww.... Then I saw myself in the van as we hit the guard rail on I-68 near Cumberland, MD, and decided if I could come out alive on that one I could surely make it through this uncertain ride.

Now I wonder if the accident had been training for such a day as this. Or days when I felt uncertain about life in general. Had it been a training ground of sorts to give me courage when I felt I had none. To remind me I am stronger than I think I am at times. I know I'm not invincible but I am not really a woosie either. One of my favorite quotes that I've had on my bulletin board for years is this:

"If we did all the things
we were capable of doing--

we would literally astound ourselves. "
Thomas Edison

The racing stripes you see on the lawn are mine. Imperfect due to the deck needing an adjustment. But to me they are stripes I can proudly wear as a badge of honor. I survived my fears, and to those neighbors who placed bets for me to win... "WOOT!" To those who bet against my success... An even bigger, "WOOT!

This ain't my first rodeo..."

And thank God I am here
to utter those words.

Big Splash On This Time Tomorrow

I took a plunge.... This end up... Remember that movie with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell, "Overboard"???

"Ohhhhhh.... youuuuu did NOT???"

"Ohhhhh.... yes I did!"

Let's just say I didn't exactly have a graceful entry into my kayak today.... Oh, yeah. I ate it big time....

Good news...

• Water was only waist deep.
  
• My kayak didn't sink although it was a really close call.
  
• No one laughed at me. If I'd have been watching me I would have laughed.... I looked like an edition of America's Funniest Home Videos...
  
• I didn't get hurt.
  
• And two guys fishing came to my rescue. Or rather they sped around to the other side of my island in their boat to get help from one of my neighbors after I asked them to. It was really nice of them to ask me if I needed help (with straight faces...) and they looked like they would have jumped in the water to assist had I merely whimpered. I was close to whimpering...

I chose a spot I rarely use to launch my kayak from. It's the place where the biggest, baddest spiders live. Gulp. I placed one foot on the floor (bed) of the kayak, and nervously looked where I was placing my hand when I should have been looking where I placed my other foot... And kerrrrr splassssshhhhh. Once the train pulled out of the station there was no stopping it. I do remember a colorful word coming out of my mouth. Maybe two....

It was all I could do to keep my kayak from sinking because it filled up with water so fast. My feet sank in sludge...gross sludge. The kind of sludge you don't want stuck between your toes or inside your swimming suit bottoms... But it was that kind of sludge.... Ewwwww!!! Double Ewwwwww!!

I lost a flip flop in the muck at the bottom of the lake. Actually it was a "fit-flop". This may have been when I whimpered. Fit-Flops are expensive sandals that are supposed to whip your butt into shape while you walk. I'll tell you what can whip your butt into shape.... pulling yourself, and a water-logged kayak that weighs about the same as a baby whale out of the water after you've cap-sized.

I am in mourning about the loss of my shoe. I'll bury the other shoe tomorrow. Besides, I can't go around with a half ass firm butt. That's just wrong.

But I got back on the pony... Back in the saddle....

Soggy, wet britches, tee shirt, and all.

Minus one fit-flop.

Plus one kayak full of "Ohhhh, YES I can!!!!

This time tomorrow is celebrating six months smoke freeness....

Six months ago I quit smoking....

I have much to celebrate. Much to be thankful for. More to look forward to.

101 List Items are becoming history this time tomorrow

Slowly but surely, I march on completing creative tasks on my 101 List. I'm still figuring out a way to post completed items, yet to be fulfilled items, and new ones I'm adding. These types of items on my 101 To Do List are not negative for me. This type of inner work calms me. Brings me into focus. Charts my creative process. Fills me with awe, feelings of success, and lets my child art-heart come out to play with freedom. It truly is the best therapy out there... at least for me dealing with PTSD.

One of my passions is putting new twists on old things, especially furniture. I've done this my entire life. The term shabby chic is simply the way many creative types like myself had to live to have anything beautiful around us (or to sit on, sleep on, look at, etc...) We naturally know how to make do with what we have; tweak it if it needs it, slap it with another coat of paint--you can always repaint it another color--cover it with a sheet, grab it off the curb before it goes into the dumpster, and stalk yard sales. Cheap is great...Free is BETTER!

Staging is one of my gifts. I see an area, and I stage it. Staging makes me happy. Every, tiny item in every corner of my world is strategically placed to make one (and myself) feel enlightened, happy, inspired or relaxed when they (I) look at it. It's art... art in a 3 dimensional format. The entire world is my palette, and I love making my world a unique place to be. I call it Woodstock Lily Style, my style--you each have your own. I know many of you reading this understand exactly what I mean in making your environments uniquely "you".... That's the way it should be.

Superman has a table in his back yard at his Fortress. That's it above in it's "before" state. From the first moment I laid eyes on this begging-to-be-painted-beauty-in-the rough table, I had to make it special. So, thus, began our adventure of putting a little love, and color, in Superman's backyard. I'll post more updates, side by side, as it unfolds into a vibrant rainbow of colors for you to feast upon.

TO-DOOOOOOO!!! This Time Tomorrow blows the finished trumpet!!!! Kinda like ta-daaaaa only better...

Here it is... the finished painting of my son, Jake.... Big sigh. Happy Happy Joy Joy

Learning to stretch my wings today so I'll be ready to fly this time tomorrow

I admit these are not the paintings from my lesson plan but they are clouds nonetheless. I found a bright, redeeming ray of hope by committing to post what I painted today and learned a valuable lesson. Truth is I struggled with the painting lesson and whined a whole bunch today. Big sigh....

I am committed to learning how to paint true blue, knock-your-socks-off clouds. It will just take more time. I'm going to wait to show you my before and "after I get it right" clouds for another post.

The lesson I ended up learning today actually brought tears to my eyes. On my 101 List is a dream I have had for 20 plus years. I believe it's listed in the first 10. It's a book I've wanted to write from a story my sister Pam used to tell our kid's when they were little to get them fall asleep. I always thought I'd write it and have someone else illustrate it. I decided I may give it a shot myself. The pictures below are from one of the lesson paintings I tweaked--or I guess you could say I "morphed it" into something else. Hey I'm a "green" kinda girl. Chalk it up as recycling at it's finest.

It was when I started tweaking one of the completed lessons that I started having fun and by allowing myself to lighten up I took the pressure off of myself to make a "perfect" cloud. I approached it like a kid would. How would a kid paint a cloud? So I finished what I had promised I would do today even though it was an unexpected outcome.

I actually got lost in playing with the painting below. I visualized myself designing the characters for the book. Filling the book with clouds.... sherbet colored clouds that kids would want to eat right off the pages. The painting below is not the end result. It is just the beginning of me taking flight. Living my dreams. Trying something new. Rolling with the lessons life brings you.










I can fly, too. Yes, I can.....

The Duel between the Perfectionist and the Procrastinator. Maybe this time tomorrow I'll have it all done....

Somehow I think this may be a hard task to finish or accomplish or keep that way. I believe the perfectionist in me will lie to the procrastinator I'm trying so hard not to be. And the procrastinator will always want to take a nap if it isn't perfect to begin with. And so my journey creating my dream studio begins...... here are some before pics. The after pics will have to happen after it's finished. LOL




First project on my list is my studio. I'm beginning to believe a studio is a work-in-progress, too—just like me. I've only just defined a space as the home for my creative treasures, well, a physical storage-work space.

My brain is my permanent house for my studio. It's taken me awhile to figure out where to set it up and I have had it in a few places—but never finished.

I live in the perfect place for creativity. On a lake—actually on an island. I have had to deal with some rough places as a studio space in during my life but my challenge here on the lake is I have too many places to set up my studio. Challenge? Yes, too many choices can be hard. Too many places to get trapped in perfecting the spot instead of perfecting the craft. There's such a thin line between procrastination and perfecting something. I can get totally stuck in the getting everything just right before I can cut myself loose to start playing. One of these days I'm going to just cut loose and play anyway... (see I'm procrastinating)

My boyfriend, Superman, just helped me tremendously this past week. I needed him as a sounding board. I pointed out all the pros and cons of various locations to set up my studio in the Tree House (what I call my home). All had potential, promise, and all posed problems. All had bits and pieces of my art supplies strewn about like clothes in a teenager's room. Well actually kinda like my bedroom. (hehe) He liked my ideas and told me they made sense. I needed some validation. I also need a strong arm... He gave me some guide lines to work under. If it is not creative—it does not belong in my studio. Sweet! I can work with that.

Here's my usual pattern. One room, one space in my world has always been the dumping ground, the holding tank, the clutter catcher, the junk room, the room you keep the door shut at all times and pray no one stumbles upon it looking for the bathroom, “Fibber MC Gee's closet”, my shame, my lack of perfection. My nemesis. My undoing. The proof I do not have things together. I am and always have been very hard on myself about this. It seems if I had it all together, I would be perfect but to get there everything must be perfect. I hear screaming.... Oh, never mind... it's just me.

Plus, I do a bit of hoarding. Holding on to things, so to speak. “I might be able to use this sometime.” Sentimental alley. Broken babbles, and stacks of papers. I do not know how to toss things. Throw it away? Yikes!!! I have dried out paint bottles for heaven's sake! Scraps of paper that was trimmed off of something. Buttons that belong to a pair of pants or blouse I no longer own. It's a cluster fuck in my mind and world. “What if I need this?” “How could I use this?” This is a project waiting to happen.” “Wow, that would make the perfect ____, or _____, or you fill in the _____. Blankety, blank....

I have stood in the middle of one of my storage tanks of creative possibilities and been so overwhelmed I left the room, garage, etc., and took a frigging nap. I've turned in circles like a ballerina with no choreographer. My toes are raw. My mind is weary. Where do you start??? I need the peace of finishing a room, especially my creative space. It's usually the place that sits in the most chaos, and it's the place I need to be in the most to heal. I want a studio where I know where everything is. I can reach for a tool I need. I can walk in and simply begin creating.

I just want to paint and maybe that's the trick to all of this.... Just Do IT!!!

This time tomorrow--my favorite time to do things. A blog from a procrastinator...

Blogging.... didn't we used to call it journaling, keeping a diary? Writing secret stuff about ourselves in a secret place that we buried like cats bury poo so no one would find it, read it or see it?

I am a procrastinator. A perfectionist. Well there. I said it. Out loud. This is my blog about procrastination and perfectionism, and the life long battle I have had putting off until tomorrow what I should have, could have and needed to do today. This blog site will be a stretch. If anyone actually starts following me, I'll be held accountable and responsible. Shudder....

I'm just a girl (yes, I am still a girl, a 56 year old girl to be exact) seeking to figure out why I procrastinate and how in the hell can I fix it???? Now, it hasn't all been lost lists and never accomplishing anything--far from it. I've acquired some rather fetching accomplishments in my life. I just don't want to wake up tomorrow, out of time, or heaven forbid not wake up at all, and see all the wasted energy, brilliant ideas I had rotting on top of my grave. I know today will suddenly turn into this time tomorrow. I want to arrive there saying, "Wow! I did it! I actually finished this project that has been locked up inside my head! I lived my life in the fullest."

Now here is the kicker--the proverbial kick in the ass.

I'm recovering from PTSD from an auto accident. May 4, 2009 will be my one year anniversary. This is my journey of a near death experience, and a moment in time I saw every dream on my to-do list, hang in that moment forever--undone. I am going to live those dreams, give them flight, and maybe along the way as I blog my progress a few of you will be encouraged to do the same by the words (and deeds) I etch in time and space in a place called the internet.

I will list my 101 Things I Want To Do with my wonderful life, and will document the glorious joy of checking them off one by one. My goal is to keep adding another item to the list after I check something off. You will be my eyes and virtual cattle prod to keep me moving forward. Hey, no pushing and shoving--OK? Cheer me on! To the finish line!

I will post my list and post my projects in pictorial form from beginning to marvelous end.