Summer Peonies

I promised pictures. My mother has a peony garden, they are her favorite flowers. So with them in bloom and the light right, I grabbed my weapon and artillery. Here are some of my shots.

LIfe Is Good...FINALLY!

LONGEST SIX MONTHS!

But the light is in sight, things that I had dreamed of for so long, and tried so hard to achieve is finally coming my way. I fought through so much ugliness. I mearly thought to look at the want adds before dinner and found two interesting opportunities and applied to both. To my surpise, one called me back and now I have the opportunity to manage my own property. Well, it isn't mine perse but my resposibility. It's in a good location and in good repair but there are challenges a plenty to keep me busy for awhile.

I have also met a man. I know I had met one of those before, unfortunatly, he missed the biggest must have...girlfriend. It feels good with this one, we are in a similar place in our lives. Rushing is not something either of us want. Fun. He seems like a lot of fun. So unless queen mab steels him away in the dark of the night, I will enjoy him.

So far the warmth of summer's promesses are permenting my soul.

Must have list...

I met someone the other day. It wasn't something planned, and when I first met him I didn't think WOW but by the time we had parted ways, I was thinking damn. He has this sexy geek thing going for him and a motorcycle too! I haven't wanted to date since leaving my husband/high school sweetheart/father of my children. I promised myself that I wouldn't, not until I was ready. Ready, how does one ever know they are ready? I don't.

I did test the waters a little. There was this one guy; he was honest when he told me he wasn't married. But later I found out that while not married he was living with his girlfriend of 20+ years and mother of his 3 kids. Apparently, they were having issues and she wasn't being supportive enough. I told him I thought he was great, but give me a call when he was more single.

Like many I have my list. You know the one; he has to have these certain qualities or traits to even pass in to the call back line. Here is mine:

1. Single, yes that means no wife and no girlfriend boys!
2. Employed, I don't care if you’re rich or poor, but a steady job is a must.
3. This is the tricky one and only applies to those with children. Dedicated, kids come first, no if ands or buts. If your kid calls and they need you, you better choose them or me or your friend.
4. Attractive, that is a little shallow (wait till you read number five), I know. But I need to be attracted to the guy and I want to be able to look at him.
5. Endowed, there's just no easy way to say it.
6. Nice, not over the top, but nice. Someone that isn't angry at the world and can enjoy the little things.
7. Confident, I find this is tied to jealous and controlling behaviors which I will not stand for.

So that's it, It's not a long impossible to live up to list, but those little things I will not compromise on. There are other things that I hope for, but those I can bend and flex on.

 

On to a new world

I have two unfinished MS and one completed. Part of me is drawn to work on these, but they were started wen I was in a different place in my life. I struggle with the idea of whether I should move on instead of revisiting them. I love the plots and the characters, I feel compelled to finish their story, and perhaps one day I will be ready to.

For now I really want to sink my creative juices into is something new and fresh that represents the new me. I have been looking for ME. While I don't think I have found me yet I want to continue to move forward, and the only way I see that happening is to set the old stuff aside. I have a huge desire to write some non-fiction shorts together to submit. But...I have an idea for a new project!

A little racy but with done with class, set in the 20's or 30's. A girl coming of age and entering a brothel looking for a living and ending up with much more. So I defiantly have some research to do, but I love that!

Courage to soldier on

I am not going to punish myself anymore. In the past year I have applied to at least a hundred jobs in the area and outside the state. Ninety percent haven't called or emailed me any kind of response. I have let this invade my psyche, even though I had no really desire to work there and little to no idea who the company was I was applying for.

I knew how ridiculous this was, but couldn't help the desperate and continued search for some direction to my life. Today I walked in the park, enjoying the warmer Northwest Ohio spring day; reflecting on that enduring pull towards the arts. Always a fleeting desire pushed aside by lack of funds or time.

I can admit that those are excuses. When I submit to anything creative I always feel better! In truth, I was writing a few years ago and had all the same stresses I have today, but I felt better. My downfall was writing a manuscript and taking a real honest look at what I wrote. I exposed things I didn't mean to expose. As anyone who has ever done that, knows just how terrifying it is to see your soul bared. This is real writer's block.

I have tried, as this blog shows, to recapture that flow time and time again to no avail.

But what does one thing have to do with the other...EVERYTHING! The past weeks I have been burnt out and frustrated by all the jobs I have applied for to no avail. I have wondered if the powers that be may have something else planed for me and it's time I stop fighting it. I am not going to resolve to write more, but to submit: Two each month.

I will continue to use this space as a diary of sorts, a writers retreat and tale of her pursuits, failures, and successes.

Embracing Change

One year ago I walked away from a familiar life. That was harder than anyone who hasn't done it could know. No it wasn't a happy one but I learned to accept it, even embrace it in a way. With some reflection, I cannot today, recognize that person. To date it is one of the  bravest things I have done, I hoped it was going to be a good decision but the future is so unknown there was no way to KNOW. I didn't have anything but faith and hope, and on that I jumped blindfolded into the unknown.

It has not been a postcard year. But one of tremendous change; internal and external. 

I find myself ready to move on and move forward. There isn't anything holding me back: except me. Unsure of what to do, the past week I have applied to dozens of jobs with no direction or focus. As much as I would like to say: hospitality is in my past. I wonder. Of course there are many things I would never miss, but still there are many more things I miss. The family like atmosphere is one of the biggest. In this past week I have been told that I am suited for it. And I miss it. Don't get me wrong, I would love to open my own bistro. But without the financial backing and credit that looks up to the toilet, I just cannot see it just yet.

So hospitality it is! But looking around at the gray and brown landscape, the cold, bone shattering wind six months out of the year has me looking elsewhere. So could there be more changes to come. I hope so! I shall embrace the change... 

Nothing Left to Lose...

I gave seven+ years of my life to the hospitality industry. Dealing with arrogance beyond what I thought possible in people. I stayed for those wonderful people I met along the way. Both co-workers and guests. 

It's a selfless career path. I would do whatever I could to make people happy and comfortable. I realized that they were away from home and that in itself is a hard thing. I met people who spent more time in hotel beds than their own. Finding that I could make at least some difference in their comfort was worth all the grief I may get from the few people who were only happy in their misery. 

But.



I don't think I will go back to that. I walked into work Wednesday, just after siting down to review my emails, my boss called me into her office. I prepared myself for yet another scolding, I should have prepared myself for more. For the first time in my life I was fired from a job. I will admit I was surprised even though I knew it would eventually come. For when you have a target on your back, as anyone who has ever had one knows, it's like a tattoo: only a painful surgery will remove it. 

With mixed emotions I have walked through the past days, ready to close that chapter of my life and fearful of the unknown future. There has even been cheer. So many of my co-workers have reached out. It's nice to know there was appreciation. I hope they all know how much I love them and will miss each of them.

But.

What to do. I admit, I have no idea! So here I am. 

I took a day trip with my wonderful daughter yesterday and camera. I realize all the pictures have a theme: Loneliness.

I was going for solidarity. The images tell the truth of it. I have felt alone for so long a time that I am not sure there is any other truth. So I face the truth of it and move forward. Perseverance! I have nothing left to lose and an adventure at hand. I shall seek out my next chapter and share the trials I encounter. 

Therapy Session

Therapy session: Sorry but bare with me. I am playing the this is my world card, so I can do and post what I want. And what I need to post is something that needs to be let go, to breathe.

He walked towards her with such fierce single minded determination; had it been any other man she’d known in her life she would have been frightened by the look in eyes. He was different, something hard to communicate, but it came down to his eyes. The way they smiled even when he didn’t and when he did smile, especially with mischief, they radiated such energy that she knew: he was a good man.

Their passions mixed, collided even in their fumbling. It was the greatest complement of her life to see and feel that desire. All she wanted was him; everything else was secondary, inconsequential. His warm breath and firm lips found the curve in her neck, while his smell electrified her senses. She could taste the musky warmth that surrounded him.

Did he have any idea the power which he held over her? It surprised and excited her; she could feel this for him and even more that she would share it.

Perhaps one day this will make its life somewhere, but for now: this is it.

Hello again!

The last year has been a rough one, however, things are finally smoothing out and I am anxious to get back to my writing. I think it's funny how I have to be in a good "place" in order to want to find my way back to those other worlds. :-)


But, I don't think I will find my way back to all the same worlds I was developing before. One that I hope I can find is the one I was working on here. I really liked where the characters were going and the grittiness of the world. Plus, I was about to introduce my protagonist. The one we love to hate. That said, I will try...and maybe with enough pain I will find my way. I hope that you will join, encourage and criticize (when necessary) me. ~Thank you!

my blog

Sorry for the technical difficulty with the blog layout. I am working on getting things under control, and as soon as I do, I will post another portion of the story.
Thank you.

For Magic to Survive Someone Must Sacrifice--Part III

She sunk into the straw mattress, her hair fanned on the pillow accentuating her pale skin: a dark angel.

“Father, is she...” Bailyn couldn’t pull himself away from the girl. He thought of Sleeping Beauty, and in spite of himself, he imagined bending down and placing a soft kiss on her rough lips.

Molina moved her brother aside, “She’s not dead,” she said. “Look her chest moves.” An unfamiliar feeling, it was a curious notion, crossed her consciousness. Goosebumps raced up her arms despite the warmth from the stove.

She needed to touch the mystifying girl, but she hesitated for fear of what it would do, and more than that, she was afraid.

“Children, Jon come away now,” the woman said. “Molina, fetch some blankets from the cupboard; Bailyn, run to the well for water; Jon, put the kettle on.” She took a slow deep breath; she could taste the bittersweet honey that mingled with the girl's aura. It had been years since she felt the magic stir within her but she felt the pull like an old friend come to visit.

Her family and their safety came first, though the last thing she desired to do was to hand over another witch. If The Destroyers came, she’d have no choice.

The floorboard behind her creaked with the weight of her husband and his shadow darkened the girl's pale features, “What should we do with her?”

Sighing, she shrugged.

For Magic to Survive...

(my second installment of the story, enjoy)

 

           “Bailyn, fetch the riffle for me.”

           “What is it father?” Bailyn asked, trying to see around his father’s broad shoulders.

“A thief in the garden. Quick now!”

“Jon,” the woman said.

“Bailyn follow me around back, you...”

“Jon.”

“...grab her on my mark,” he said taking the long barreled shot gun from Bailyn.”

Bailyn nodded the thrill of the hunt in his eyes.

“Jonathon!”

“What is it woman?”

“The garden is in the back of the house, Jon,” she said, putting her arm around her daughter, identical smiles revealing their amusement.

“Oh right, but then...” he stood there, unsure of what to do. Grunting he motioned for his son to follow.

Moonlight illuminated the small frame of a girl, hair swirled around her in a wind only she felt.

“Father this isn’t right. Listen.”

Jon understood he rubbed his ears: it felt like they needed to pop. “Here take the gun.” The closer they crept the greater the pressure in their ears became.

John grabbed the girl from behind, pinning her arms to her sides, and yanked. Bailyn circled around her; the gun limp in his hand threatened only the Earth.

“Boy, the gun!”

“I think she’s dead.”

For Magic to Survive She Must Sacrifice

The air was hot and dense; it pushed against her, breathing was laborious. Her hair hung limp down her back, usually, it swirled around her but not this night. Eve stood in the perpetual darkness with only a tattered dress, which used to brush the ground, but now stopped just below her knees, showing her bare feet. The noise of the woods and trees beat painfully in her ears.

There was a light on in the shack, illuminating the family within. They sat at a round table (playing a game) laughing. Just a moment ago, the boy had lifted up the youngest girl in his arms and spun her around. He looked to be about the same age as Eve: on the cusp of being an adult. The girl, shock red hair curled around her cherub face, rosy cheeks with dimples, eyes the color of ice, a perfect miniature to the mother.

It’s the glow of magic that surrounds the girl that makes her unique; no doubt it once enveloped the mother but not a trace could be seen any longer. Eve wondered if they knew that magic touched them. They would know soon.

The ground vibrated the energy, alerting The Destroyers. It was Eve’s job to avert them, so she set to it. Placing her one hand on the outside wall of the house, the other she dug into the soft soil. Pushing stones out of the way, using her nails to claw deeper down until she planted her arm (up to her elbow).

Tego texi tectum

Tego texi tectum

 She chanted, closing her eyes, she put all her energy into the concealment spell. The air warmed and lifted to her words, the fearful creatures of the woods became silent: Death could not find them.

Movements in Stillness

Perhaps it was my fault.

Always the quite one,

Moving with child steps

Through the room.

Unseen was how

The movements took me through the room,

To the corner:

Where the walls converge,

Steadying and supporting my bent spine.

The darkness concealing silent tears.

Heart and soul of it all

It’s a box.

It holds everything,

Nick-knacks collect from moments:

Some filled with pure joy

The hand craves to fondle them.

Others contain sorrow so penetrating,

Too consuming to gaze upon for more than a glance.

Instinctively tucking the darkness into the recesses:

Sheltered corners of the heart

Were it less painful on the soul.

muse come back...

I've suffered of an acute case of writer's block, the worst case I've encountered. Before I have rode it out, read lots of books, articles, blogs and such. It's not working. So, I'm trying a new tactic: forced writing. I've had a few things stirring, I know it's time to choose one and just write what ever comes out (even if it's crap).

 I pray it works.

Getting back in the swing of it...

It's been a busy summer, and little writing has been accomplished, but the kids head back to school in a few days. Which means my house will stay clean for longer than a few hours after my labors have ended; fall (my favorite time of year); and more time to devote to WRITING! Here is a little taste:

Tick-tock


Tick-tock

Tick-tock

Coo-coo, coo-coo

The scratch of the quill kept time. He never heard the tick or the tock. The sounds were there, forgotten until the day they ceased.

The quill held by a still hand, withered with old age. Much like the face, deep wells of time etched by heartbreak and loss surround clear gray eyes.

Thump-thump

Thump-thump

Scrap

A chill swells in his soul. Might the clock never tick again? Fore what could stop the beautiful sound of the coo coo, always on its mission to sound the hour?

Bar scene

I have been having an issue with writer's block. I have been writing wildly in my head but the moment I get near a computer or pad & pen I draw a blank. Last night, while driving of course, I did it again. I came up with this sultry scene that at present I have no home for, it doesn't fit into any stories I'm working on. So I'm posting it here:

She walked into the bar, for no other reason than curiosity demanded it. Sat down at the only table available, tucked in the shadows for young lovers. A snare rattled, someone bumped into a symbol or top hat, a chair scrapped across the stage behind her. Smoky jazz wafted about the bar, silencing the chatter. Turning her attention towards the source of the sound, she froze.

He sat on the edge of in a plain wooden chair, back straight, one leg extended toward the crowd. Wildly cut blond hair framed an oval face. She couldn’t help but to let her fantasy roam wildly.

Imagining her fingernail travel the length of his nose. Kissing the dimple on his chin, how the short bristly hairs that covered his cheeks would scratch the delicate shin of her lips.

She wished he would open his eyes, through three sets he never did, driving her insane with wonder of what lie behind that thin fleshy curtain. To what place did he travel in his self-imposed solitude. She longed to reach into the dark depths beyond the pupils, which contain the soul of a man.

So as the final note resounded off the walls, and his eyes languidly opened, she feared: would she remain a faceless, nameless spectator, left with only her memory of a moment, never to share it with her sultry musician?

The Siren's Song: Agent Pitch Contest

The Siren's Song: Agent Pitch Contest

A resolve to get fit...again.

I have resolved to get fit--again. I used to be very active, rollerblading, cycling, hiking, and jogging. I’ve been rollerblading (because that works those hips the most for me) three times. Today was one of those days.

I woke up at seven with the alarm, not even hitting the snooze, which is commendable since I didn’t go to bed till 2:30am. I ate my breakfast of toast with honey and coffee (black, raw sugar), all pretty standard.

With my water and keys in hand, I set off down the paved bike path that runs parallel to the muddy Maumee River. About a mile down the heat was getting to me, so I stop for a little breather against a shaded picnic table. I will admit there was a moment I had to nudge, prod, and pull myself up off the table and get rolling.

What made it nice were the smells of the early summer wild flowers. Taking in the beauty of the park helped to ignore those nasty voices that pervade our greatest efforts, telling us to stop.

But when the voice was accompanied by a circling (taunting) fly, ones determination can waver. Alas, I finished with the realization that I-have-a-long-way-to go.

Then as I went to open my car, to rip those devilish skates off...I realized I left my keys on the picnic table, a mile down the path!