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My body is in a state of confusion, my emotions are riding the ups and downs of roller coasters, and somewhere in the mix of things I have got to figure out how to balance, to center.
Maybe the hours and minutes, daylight and moonlight has caught up to me-that my slumber at 5am until midday is toxic…
Either way, time is my only friend in finding this balance, regulation and patience into ticking the same as that chemically induced uterine silence…
It's one of those weeks…you know-like, when you don't want to get out of bed, and if you do you find it hard to change out of your pajamas, let alone put on a bra. You wash your hair only because the grease has built up so much that your hair can hang in a pony tail–without the band…
Those weeks need to be comforted with food. With good food. That's not to say food that is good for you, just really good bad food. Food with nasty carbs and sugars, fats and all things saturated. Who needs to watch their waist when they are wearing stretchy pants anyway?
e.darcy
So I opened the last box I had stashed with me of Mac-N-Cheese. Poured it all into a bowl and sat down to watch a documentary on skinny people. Who makes these things called serving sizes anyway? Pfft.
e.darcy
I'm alone. Legs crossed, sitting on endless soft green grass. It's cool and breezy. The air tastes like the salt from the sea. Silky ocean waves crash against rugged white rocks lining the cliffs. My red curls blow with the wind that whistles past my ears. My eyes close and I rock back and forth, back and forth-feeling as if I'm floating away with tide. In and out it stretches bringing life, in and out it stretches uncovering hidden treasures… I float for hours, face warmed by the glow of the sun, lips chapped by the salt water. Energy continues to circle through my body-I feel it from my fingertips to my arms, to my chest, to my legs, non of it lost…The energy ball recycles and glows stronger white… A deep breath, and I land.
It was literally the most amazing feeling I have ever had.
The first time that I meditated-I was sitting in a friend’s closet, atop a pillow. We had candles lit and had just read how to do this thing from Seventeen Magazine. I did what it said, legs crossed, deep breaths, imagine yourself in your happy place…
I still revert back to that place on the cliffs-only now I'm not sitting, I stand and feel the wind with my body. I watch the angry ocean roll in with grey clouds. I watch lightning dance across its sky and I feel speechless.
But I found another place…
Warm sticky air-so thick you can taste it's rich spices… Native tribal women dance wildly around the flame-their caramel bodies melt into one in their ancient dance. The dry lips of earth's soil break and crack beneath their feet. I am an outsider. I witness and feel their red flames of energy. Their rhythm is healing and I feel dizzy. It's overpowering. Heat fills the palms of my hands, sweet liquid quenches my throat. They know I am there, of course, but pay me no attention… I feel like I'm witnessing something I shouldn't see-that I should turn away because it's so sacred. so secret. so private…but I can't. They've captured me as my heart starts to beat to their beat-I feel wild inside. There is fire.
e.darcy
I tried to think of plenty of amazing things to write about… Entire paragraphs of textured words formed in my head, on paper, and even made it to be typed yaaaawwwn on screen. (oh! I'm sorry, did I just yawn mid-sentence?)
e.darcy
And then we came home, and found this amazing juicy creature leaving a slime trail…and I happen to love this picture so much-trying to create beautiful things to say about it….but in the end. It represents how I feel. Sluggish. I don't know what's up but I just don't have it in me. In fact, I went to bed on my own last night!
broken-down, burned out, collapsing, consumed
dog-tired, drained, drowsy, flagging, jaded,
petered out, pooped, sleepy, spent
wasted, weary, whacked, worn
So that's about it. I feel rather large, maybe juicy, slimy? I can't say I do… But I feel so sluggish that perhaps if you poured some table salt on me, in the middle of the summer's day side walk-I just might shrivel up before your eyes.
Dawn. The most beautiful, serene, inspiring time of the day. Most people are still in deep slumber, heavy sighs-unknowing to the world that is wide awake…
The world where the dreamy moons slips past the ocean tide, where the morning sun yawns and stretches bringing promise of a new day…
Pixies and fairies fall over drunk with laughter, bellies round and full of sweet nectar as the silent owl makes his last swoop of the forest floor. Trees come alive with cheerful song birds at play in the golden glow of morning.
The air is the finest at this time of day, sweet and cool, salty and full. It's silent and gentle-as if no other soul witnesses it with you. It's a secret place.
e.darcy
I breathe deeply to take it in, filling my lungs with as much of this magic, healing, medicinal time-before it all wakes up and crashes into a world of to-do's, appointments, and utter chaos.
Fishermen dock their boats-heavy with fine treasures of the sea, and commuters finally rouse-the streets are alive…
Bowls filled with every magic colour known- awaiting the white shells of hard boiled eggs.
My Easter traditions are very different to Stevens. Boiling dozens of eggs to dye and decorate. Later to be hidden and found. His idea of an Easter egg is a giant hollow chocolate one in a cardboard box. While I would be counting the shiny eggs I found in the grass, he would be counting the shiny boxes of creamy milk chocolate Easter eggs gifted to him.
The Easter bunny was a big deal for me. I’m not quite sure why-but he was real, and I didn’t doubt it. I remember the day that he came to visit me when we lived in Washington. Of course I was out playing and missed him-but he left me a sweet surprise on my night stand… I went out searching for him-but he was not to be found… Easters have been waking up to baskets with stuffed bunny rabbits, chocolate rabbits, and plastic eggs full of sweets.
Pale colours of pink, blue, and yellow.
e.darcy
Spring mornings greet you with dewy grass and glowing fog, chilly air with promises to warm summer breezes.
I have to get used to another way of thinking of Spring. While here, it falls on the first of February-with chilly wet days welcoming baby lambs. The bloom of yellow daffodils, holy holidays- Pancake Tuesdays, Ash Wednesdays, Good Fridays, traditional foods-roasted lamb, hot cross buns and Cadburys crème eggs.
e.darcy
I have to be honest-I quite prefer my romantically written Easters. There are just some things that I’ll have to incorporate on my own, along with a bit of dye Easter egg magic.
e.darcy
One of the 101 Challenges was to make a list of 100 things that make me happy. I gave you 25 of those things on October 14th, 2007. Here are 25 more things to add in my mission to cross number 84 of 101.
e.darcy
50 more to go… I love this challenge. It feels so good to sit and think about all of those things that make me the most happy. I feel the warm golden light of summer mornings, feel the cool smoky breeze of autumn nights, I can smell the salty ocean of the rough Pacific waters and taste the sweet warm sugar from cool iced tea in my mouth.
Like always, I encourage you to take a few minutes to immerse yourself in all things that make you happy-and of course share!
It’s inevitable that sometime during the day I will ask Steven to hand me ‘The Purple Notebook’. I asked for it tonight. Twice. Which I think was the first time he thought to ask what exactly it was about this purple notebook that I needed. What do I do with it? What secrets does it hold? His idea on the purple notebook is that it just may explode if he were to open its contents.
e.darcy
Could it be full of ingredients for potions and spells? –I wish.
I’m a list maker. It’s just my way of relaxing. It’s also the perfect way to stress me out. I know-a tiny bit crazy but I have kinky curls of red growing from my head, and this gives me permission to be crazy.
I like to constantly have a bit of paper and something to write with me at all times. I get ideas in my head that have to be written down NOW! Words that I like, sometimes a phrase that I put together… Something that I have overheard. I get ideas for projects to do-constantly. (Projects that you will probably never see because I never finish them)
Lists upon lists are stored on this computer. Lists upon lists are in this notebook and that, bits of paper shoved in the pocket of my purse will hold words that are mumble jumble to most-but a clear plan to me.
So, the mystery of The Purple Notebook? It's just a desk calendar-with notebook paper that I have so cunningly taped into it and filled with pointless listsandlistsofideasandnamesandmumblejumblehocuspocus.
e.darcy
I have finally completed the 101 list that I started on November 19th, 2007. It took be four months to come up with 52-101, but here they are! Now it's just about crossing them off.
Check out the 101 in 1,001 for the complete list!
Just think that you should all probably visit here. Of course you will then notice a little name that you would so lovingly recognize as none other than moi, Starving Artist.
It may be a tad bit vain-but there is nothing like seeing your own words and name somewhere else. lalala
