If you follow me on Facebook, I let you know as much details needed. The good news is, I’m home now and enjoying being in touch with the spirits of the home, as Jung encourages us to do soon after separation.
Here’s some poems I crafted during my descent from psychosis. Please critique in the Comments section. Love you all.
I had an absolutely wonderful weekend! The City of St Petersburg, Florida hosted its annual Pride Parade last Saturday evening. Once again I gave my time to the fine folks with NOMADStudio…you remember them from last year? Well this year they got renowned artist John Gascot to paint the Art Bus with messages of Love, Hope, Peace and Action. What am I proud of? Being alive! Being able to live my life free! Being able to love exactly who I want!
What are you proud of?
At 10pm, we kicked off. My job was to lamplight the artwork. I was very dutiful.
An angel with an angel
Ron and John’s scooters are amply decorated for the parade
With my besties!
With the handsome John Gascot
Back of the bus. I did most of the upper lights. Talented!
Days before the cut off, I finally get around to salvaging vonsimeon.com! I tell ya, September was way too distracting to pay attention to WordPress’s many reminder emails. I blame the onslaught of pumpkin spice everything.
Still technologically determined, as repairs to my truck superceded buying a new notebook. I checked out a place in Seminole which offers refurbs and parts for building CPUs, prices comparable to newegg.com.
What can be done then, with this artistic downtime? ‘If you can’t give money, give time’ I always say! During Carmada 2015 I volunteered at the information table for the Nomad Art Bus, brainchild of gifted artist and all around amazing person Carrie Boucher. The mobile studio visits disenfranchised communities, at-risk schools, and other places where art funding is nil; I can totally get behind that! Visit the site and keep gas in the tank with a donation.
I did tell a long distance friend once that if my blog goes more than 3 weeks without a post, it’s a sure sign I’m dead. 😀
Haven’t been able to keep my regular writing schedule due to my laptop failing. I have enough motherboard life to collect my master files. Pics I don’t worry about; aren’t they already in WordPress? So to keep up with my proof of life promise, I’m using the tablet today; apologies in advance on formatting. The laptop issue I saw a’comin’, but what comes next, completely thrown off!
Labor Day Cimmi Red took a Hulk Smash! to the roof and the windshield by a large tree branch. My insurance company gave me a Toyota Corolla to drive for five days. As I cruised about, I left the radio low so I could listen to the whoosh! of the wind sliding over its aerodynamic curves. Pretty and fuel-economical as it was, the Corolla’s pick-up was laughable! Meeeeeeeeeee…
Cimmi and her growl is back, new roofed and windshielded, and I’m pleased with the repair, although the deductible could have paid for a new laptop. And then I could migrate my work files. Then I could install Scrivener. Then I could update my website. And then and then and then…
I can’t dwell on what I have no control over. So I’m reading Lisa L. Kirchner’s novel, blazing trails with long walks, and planning my next life-adjusting chapter..
I’m no good at being a fangirl. That rabid memorization of metadata – team rosters, stats, trades, rankings – I don’t do well. What I do well is wear whatever jersey you feel I need to wear to bed, as a pseudo-sexual show of appreciation for <insert favorite sports team here>, but otherwise, could care less of the name across the breasticles, as long as the fabric stretches.
My reason for enjoying football is because it reminds me of my childhood. Growing up in the southern region of Germany within minutes of major cities, you couldn’t avoid getting caught up in the hype, the esprit de guerre, the fierce loyalty to team (and country once the World Cup came around). In my region, our team was Bayern Munich. As a teenaged girl, I cheered on their gorgeous, sculpted bodies. Tor! Tor! Tor!
Now I’m attempting a dedication to the Tampa Bay Rowdies! My friend Guy Delaney with the Rowdies got me great seats for last week’s opener, along with a magnetic decal for my truck and two t-shirts to look the part. I faux-hawked my hair, painted bright green and gold on my eyes, then whooped it up at Al Lang Stadium while cheering on gorgeous, sculpted bodies, er, I mean, a dedicated team of professional athletes who proudly call Tampa Bay home!
Ready to get ROWDY! (Actually, was very tame. Lots of kids around.)
From the left, Tampa Bay, the Dali Museum, USF St Pete Campus, Downtown St Pete.
Wish I caught a pic earlier; by this time my fauxhawk had collapsed! Easy to do; inner braid your sides, let your midsection loose!
Behind me sat two fledging sports commentators. Adorable until they started SCREECHING.
Midfield seats. Clear line of sight. Well behaved children to the front. Might be looking at season tickets soon..
Every Friday this April, I am going to feature an original work here for your reading pleasure. Throw rotted fruit, sing praises, lemme know you just don’t get it, but do, please, have an experience. If you borrow the work, be polite and cite!
This is a work-in-progress poem. Dog-eared for publication, but it’s only the second revision. It’s very intimate. Passionate. Worshipful. The reader submits instantaneously.
As a former obese woman, fried dough is my enemy! But there is something rather sexy about the forbidden, que no? Once a month I allow myself an indulgence. And when I do…
My buddy The Vibe Muse put me on to my new obsession, SoundCloud! What..? I can make playlists out of any theme I come up with in my head space? AWESOME!
But really, what a handy vision-free tool. I’m a writer of sounds, which is why I like writing action stories, because I get to use furious, loud words, and I use all kinds of music to influence plot tempo. As such, every novel I’ve composed in the last five years, within margins and notes, includes the makings of a soundtrack.