the past

so i called dad the other night, and he said he was reading back through old entries in his journal, and shared some of his thoughts with me.  so, i was inspired to do the same. by my bedside, i read through old journals, and surprisingly forgot about my first blog... 

tonight, i spent hours reading through blog entries in my "blurty" journal dating back to 2003... and, i came across some entries that shocked me, but am forwarding a few to remember (my sister would especially agree with the TV entry and laugh):

Sunday, May 15, 2005

12:24AM

i have much less anger now. what has changed? realizing that i MUST give back. years of selfishness cannot be analyzed. there is no time for pondering moments of the past when i MUST live for today. im so glad im done with that LIFE and can live a completely NEW one. this is the real me speaking. for those individuals i have hurt, i will show you through my actions and words that im sorry. i cannot take away the person i once was, just show you the person i can be. this is me. finally free.

Monday, December 6, 2004

9:40AM - for granted

it was cold in salt lake city when i nonchalantly woke up in the comfortable bed. driving with tears for fears was pleasant in times of sadness. i left more dark than when i had arrived. the presence of depressed individuals can suppress my ability to be happy. the constant nagging about how messed up life is, when really, we dont even know how good we have it. to live under a roof, have clothing on our backs, food on the table, opportunities to be educated, surrounded by supportive family, as well as technology linking us to the community are only fantasies for some. and here, we have it all. i've decided my time is scarce. there are going to be people that need me more than i need them. but when my personal happiness is being put in jeopardy, i must back off. 

then... i got out of my car and began to walk. snow was falling gracefully on my shoulders. students surrounding me on the cement path. i stepped off the road and paced toward the lonely tree. this place is beautiful. how does this happen? im struck with comfort and filled with joy. this is not home, but look what i have been blessed with: a sanctuary of peace. gratitude for the introduction of beauty and laughter. 

instead of painting my walls black, im admiring the purity of snow. 

i press on this day, the depression of yesterday a mere lesson for tomorrow. i move on. im unsure of how long my life will be so there's no need to sweat the small things. the picture is much bigger at hand. and, im making an effort to prevail. if they aren't willing to climb out, i must set them free. no more misery.

Current mood:  relieved

Saturday, December 27, 2003

11:33AM

what i dont understand is why my family watches so much tv. every room i walk in, the tv is on--i simply walk out. it doesn't make sense to me when there is nothing to be gained from these sitcoms. it just strengthens the theme of anti-tv in my life, and i hope my family may sometime in their life agree with me.

2010

later than never right. 

looking back...

lots of change in 2009: minus 2 rats, minus 1 cat, plus 1 dog, plus 1 new job, minus 1 significant other, plus 1 niece, plus, plus, plus. more plus signs than anything, which brings me to 2010...

oh yes... and those dreadful resolutions. 

#1- be closer to my family.

#2- just because business writing professionals tell me to double space, single spacing is okay. and, being single is okay... right? and yes, this new year i am taking pride in being single and single-spacing. 

#3- don't be negative in the workplace... work drags, we all know this. it stinks being so typical and standard everyday. waking up to an alarm, dressing in business attire, weekly meetings, reports, morning and evening traffic, work politics. yes, we are all in the same boat, but i am forcing myself to smile and realizing negativity can really wear on the joints.

#4- HAVE FUN! don't be so serious and deep all the time, and live on the edge.

#5- finish at least 8 more chapters of my novel.

#6- eat new things, and dine out more often.

#7- don't talk over people, and be known for listening, rather than delegating.

#8- reunite with old friends.

#9- run up new hills, and hike unfamiliar mountains.

#10- don't be so self-centered. 

this life is about growing, progressing, learning, and loving. i hope to do all four, and never lose sight of the things and people that matter most. 

“Fear strikes in vulnerable places”

Inside…

the touch, frighteningly soft like white

bear rugs that accent deer mantels in luxury lodges.

Strikingly cold, yet warmed when fingers

run through fibers of fine fur.

 

Outside…

stars twinkle through bay windows

And puffs of smoke rise above rooftops.

Frozen branches glisten with snow--

the picture is as simple as it is complex.

 

Internally…

two voices echo one another as

shadows collide under unobtrusive lights.

Embracing the idea, but challenging the concept--

fatal aftermath.

 

Externally…

time melts with the capsule buried

66 inches under the foot of man.

Seasons change, grounds thaw.

Only brute strength and a shovel

can extract year s of memories from rotten soil.

 

Why spoil being frozen when hearts can thaw

in the dead of winter?

fearfully frozen

A plethora of emotions

filling space in an empty cabin.

The ancient stove is running,

but bitter cold eats bugs

while killing engines in the streets.

Icicles of symmetry line the eves—

touching one another slightly,

adding weight, and causing friction

as they fall.

 

In bed, cuddling up with blankets,

but never feeling warmth.

The TV glares at a single shadow

who tunes out words that jumble together.

Thinking, but not writing,

Dreaming, but not breathing.

Feeling, but not acting.

Dead like the souls in the cold,

but awakened to the silence in the street.

 

A granddaughter's Wish

Constantly moving internally—

memories flashing rapidly.

What happened five minutes ago becomes blurry,

but the events of 1960 are vivid and magnificent.

If only we could change places, things would become clear.

Instead of struggling for the words, they would spit out of your

mouth like a rocket launching into space.

Instead of walking through life in silence, you would hear

babies cooing, street performers singing, and guitars on the corners.

Instead of losing your once endless appetite,

you would eat French cuisine and pasta with pleasure.

 

If only we could change places, you could be young again.

Until then, I embrace your stories and memories of the past,

and I know you will create history tomorrow.

 

stepping larger than the stomach can drink

 

Protruding the surface—cutting waves into flesh

deeper than the intention of the thirstiest soul.

Traveling closer to the inward core of humanity,

until doors block emotions out, and people are left

drinking, singing, and stuttering deep into the surface of night.

Voices calling, and words become jumbled among the music,

which dollars are forced into machines only faint enough to hear.

People stepping across peanut shelled floors with skid marks,

wondering when the night will draw near, and tomorrow

will become today.  Another mind, heart, and soul struggle

while rolling mindlessly away in office chairs underneath obtrusive lights. 

Shuffling papers, wanting to write, and trapped in a room

thinking of you and a typewriter.  

Passion before paychecks, songs before silence.  

Wanting to propose, but unable to commit to anything

outside of this 8 to 5.  Lights in the distance become blurred,

and it is your heart I feel through the keyboard of the day,

and your body that touches me in the night. 

oregon coasting

Taking moments to reminisce the beautiful fog

pressing into mountains covered with greenery

and large sitka spruce.  Boulders standing tall as waves

crash against their bodies creating a mixture of chaos

and stillness.  Myriads of people grazing on cheese

and ice cream, but not here, at this heaven too far from earth.

No background noise hinting at civilization, simply pure sounds

vibrating across caves and crevices in the summer.

Standing tall—glancing at one another—drawing energy

into our thighs and down through our toes.  Each view, panoramic,

each heart, full of vibrancy, each mind, euphoric. 

transportation

Sweet silence—

staggering down SW Market.

Unique foliage glistens

under dimming lights.

Walking with others,

feeling unaccompanied,

but secretly smiling.

Stores closing their doors,

beginning to slumber and awaiting

thousands of footsteps on their backs.

Bums crawl under blankets,

crickets start to speak.

Streetcars recharging

until tomorrow.

The city sleeps,

tonight. 

yoga in portland

Words boggled down minds, yet bodies relaxed to the movement of muscles lengthening.

 

There were two things I heard the instructor say, mixed in with all of the things I avoided listening to:

 

“How you write an essay is how you make love... be gentle.”

 

“You date the same person, but with a different first name.”

 

Taking advice from strangers might appear rash, but his voice was subtle. 

Silent FM

Water slowly sprinkles the surface,
avoiding dust and offering stillness.
Single tracks playing on the hilltop radio—
tuning into footsteps humming soft, melodic,
and lonely sounds. Free from static,
the foggy morning dews the face and creates
chilled ears more attentive to the calls of Nature.
Legs turn crimson like the blood that flows
readily through the veins which offer a fulfilled life.
Sprint, pace, sweat, serene, struggle—
survive.

laddie

I feel honored to be Laddie's mom--he is the most amazing dog! The "fostering" did not last long, because I fell madly in love after spending one day with the little mutt. He is petite and active, a cuddle bug, enjoys going on long runs, licks the cats, and loves spending time with other dogs. We are the perfect match, and he has added fulfillment to an already enriched life.

happy......

Accepting change, embracing life, and glorying in the beauty that surrounds my soul. Right now, at this very moment, I am the happiest I have ever been. Blessings fill my heart like spreading petunias in a basket well lit and watered. Instead of focusing on what is missing, I am surrounded by what is present, magnificent, and pure.

Often I wonder why I receive an abundance of blessings, when others suffer and face myriads of tribulations throughout their lives. There are times I feel unworthy of these blessings and much rather give them away to someone in need.

The purpose of my writing today is to remember this moment in time, and how ecstatically happy and peaceful I feel. I have a new addition to my family, Laddie, and want him to feel comfortable and loved. He has amazing godparents also, and without them, I would feel a sense of emptiness in my life. Not only is the sun shining through the windows, but the warmth is brightening my life.

Unattached Runner

The bib reads unattached—
unspoken for numbers pinned across
light blue jerseys and race ready shorts.
No big box sponsors flashing logos
anticipating to sell more product,
and feeling physically fastened to swift legs.
Numbers moving across paved streets like gazelles
crossing the vastness of Africa in the heat
of summer, with only soft footprints
untraceable except for native inhabitants.
No pit stops, partners, or panic when following
pink and orange chalk marks guiding the way.
Only sounds of silence, swiftness, and steadiness—
breathing alone, and glorying in the still nights of summer.

gardening

Raking old annuals—
dried and nipped from the cold of winter.
In a state where even perennials
can be annuals, or annuals can be houseplants.
The ground softens with the rain of May,
as memories are slowly scooped away
into buckets, and discarded as mulch.

Creating new plants—
sowing seeds into raised beds, and excited
for fresh growth and prosperous vegetables.
A chapter of last year’s crop has closed,
but the seeds are already springing through
compost like deer over fences.
No unwelcomed guests, but smiles in the backyard
of those whom are profoundly loved.

glasses

Sweat trickles down the flushed face,
creating tiny streams of salt and crystal dams.
Pulse beats, pounds, and elevates—
approaching mountains only experienced
climbers can embark upon.
Morning sun—glorious and bright—
glaring off sunglasses that try to block light.
Regardless of practical elements,
who are meant to protect retinas from UV-rays,
the sun’s radiance shines through.

your things

Once the unattractive, dreadful futon departs,
there will be an empty space on the oak floor.
When walking past the spot where the splintered wood resides,
emotions fill up the room like a toddler on Christmas Day—
joyous for the gifts Santa gave, yet silently took away.

A burden will fall off the shoulders of the homeowner,
who embarks on a glorious future free of harmful tenants.
The laminate might be ruined from the piss of dogs,
but it will be honest, pure, alone, and wiser than the futon—
broken, shattered, and lacking substance and a sense of self.

spring nights

Music echoes from the brown, upright piano, whose melodies leak tones through cement walls. Outside, grasshoppers shout back their tunes of happiness in the heat of the night. No longer are they frozen, but jumping through time with green crabgrass underneath their limbs. Each chord drifts away from the minor, only focusing on the major sounds that ring peace and beauty to those that hear them. The pianist is only out to please those tiny insects who wear less than fancy attire.

california

Cutest niece in the whole world.
I love the look on her face... adorable
Four generations--Grams, Sis, Mom and baby Paiton
I love the little blue track suit.


Going for a walk with Paiton in 70 degree weather with a slight breeze from the East, and laughter from the West--heaven.

Went for a jog around mile square park, and felt liberated, wonderful, and pure. Met up with my sister and Paiton at the large oak tree, and had one of the best days in a long while.

Ate the best vegan food in the whole world!!!

Took a stroll to Clint's work, and was very proud of him and his accomplishments. His office was quiet, but everyone was friendly, and really admired Clint.

Went to church with mom, sis, and Paiton, and ate lots of food and laughed so hard I about fell out of my chair. Permanent smiles and love.

I have great people in my life that I am honored to call family.

mistakes

Even Home Depot does not sell a thick enough spackle to cover the faults in my wall. Smearing the gaps with a putty knife, the spackle slowly dries and cracks, leaving imperfections on the surface of a colorful partition. The spot is weak compared to the other 4x8 pieces of sheetrock who remain sturdy and resist temptations of boldness and anger. Each day, I look at the soft spot on the wall, and try not to irritate it further, but relapse and cave the mud backwards toward the studs. I bought a new patch kit yesterday and smoothed the wrinkles out, added texture, affixed primer, rolled on paint, and crossed my fingers in hopes that no one will notice the blemish I covered for the fifth time this year. I must remember that speaking positive and helping others will detract from the blemish created when a time when wallpaper and flowered curtains were customary.

A moment away from poetry, and an illustration of what I feel today

Sifting through emotions, and savoring the ones that count. I am a human being, intrinsically social and wanting to please like the 5th grader bringing home artwork for Mom to see. Traveling through the motions with more depth and understanding—guiding through the skies with the swiftness and steadiness of an artist’s hand. Viewing each failure as a unique crater, which ultimately defines the beauty of the moon and gives it shape in the night. Blazing bright through the indigo sky, I am the bird taking flight over the picturesque mountains and valleys of Montana, watching the skies melt hearts together into a melting pot of love and friendship. I wonder why our souls cannot be more like burning incense that subsides slowly on all those that gather around it. The fresh smell of sage soothes minds and stimulates conversation over red and white wines who mirror those individuals that age with fineness. We gather like clear glasses, uniquely imprinted with colorful designs and etched glass. Laughter and life embody every movement of my soul as I drift on a boat in an ocean of happiness with all of my family and friends aboard.

gender bound

A girl dressed in pink—
the skirt two inches above the bony knees
sporting bruises from conflicts on concrete.
Smile pretty for the camera, crossed legs,
crimson bows, and pale lipstick shines while
painfully melting under neon lights.

A woman dressed in white—
the gown two inches above her knobby ankles,
aching from the high heels she wore for eight years
to make her appear lengthier to the human eye.
A false purity and sense of self,
hiding from the reflection in the full-length mirror.

Dressed in flannel—
white-washed jeans fade further
in the sunlight of today and tide of tomorrow.
Footprints in the sand appear unique,
and fail to recognize femininity. The pink and white
dresses society forced her to wear are tossed
in the ocean as the waves crash and break fibers
into tiny, unrecognizable pieces.

The Pen

Black ink imprints lines and dots onto ancient paper
creating gel-filled puddles of solid passion.
Words and signatures become permanent once liquid
flows slowly, readily, and peacefully like the waves
on Seal Beach after a brutal storm from the east.
Occasionally the ballpoint tries to fix past mistakes,
but makes additional smudges along the way. Scribbles
are distinguished as art, offering a glimpse of humanity
in a world dominated by Microsoft Word. Instead of trying
to white-out misspelled words, the pen crosses through them,
gravitating toward distinctive verbs over others.
Break free of being simple by using phrases that urge
literary movement across the Atlantic. Write tonight,
before morning draws nearer with the Pilot pen
who links soft hands with sensuous readers.

love

Quotes filter my thoughts, as you tell me "without depth, we die."

The emotions that are blooming inside of my mind are that of flowers in the spring: bright, beautiful, and bold. Capturing a picture of beauty and elegance beyond anything imagined.

The values in my life become more defined as time progresses toward a new revolution. We will create revolutions together of love and peace, where souls follow hearts rather than comfortable walkways.

Tell me which books to read, what captures your mind, and what influences your hand to write words that sing like the flock of birds outside of your window.

We will be one, in time, painting words on the canvases of each other's hearts.

say cheese

Four clicks come quickly,
printing wet images in sepia .
The decision for blue or red curtains
is never seen amongst the gray.
Stuffing two people in a makeshift closet,
forcing closeness and embracing it.
Looking at one another clearly
in front of the lens, feeling giddy
with something new like a hot affair.
The images stop, years pass,
and photographs are left only as a reminder
of a bright memory in time.
Old fashioned, no erasing,
trashing, editing, or deleting
like modern cameras
that depict a false reality.

Lava Lamp

A clutter, a clash.
Red and clear oil coat
the floor as timeless
elements shatter memories
from the 1960s. Broken glass
causing piercing pains
on soft, bare feet.
Slipping and sweeping up the mess
by the ancient record player
that misses several beats.
Distorted sounds
smashing, crushing—
silence, inner peace.

Alumni

In silence, pondering the past—
watching, wondering, wailing
sweet tears underneath Orion’s Belt.
The bold constellation recalls memories
unforeseen and a magnitude of beauty
with a twist of mythological brilliance.
Glancing through scraps and old photographs,
appearing as if talent wastes away…
8 to 5… Monday through Friday…
week by weak… succumbing to the year.
Can color emerge in a dull painting
or mountains appear in a foggy sky?
Will future personalities and creativity
rise about 6’ cubicles and fluorescent lights?
There is satisfaction in security like the paperweight
holding valuable contents in place.
The fascination with sifting sand washes away
with the tide as direct deposits routinely fill accounts.
What may appear a “wasted talent” doubles
as a brightly colored gem, shining across rows
of white 6x10’s, providing intellectual stimulation
where needed most.

life is not fair... as we know

At night, I lay down to write. Tears beautifully fall between the lines written with passion, love, and fear. Why hold back emotions, when eyes begin to swell? Driving the same route each morning, attempting not to think about where and how streets became misguided, ending somewhere not imagined or deserved.

Internal corruption for many individuals, and humility for only a handful.

Her wings are not broken from the dishonesty of those above, but rather she leaves quietly with the grace of an angel. I have faith she will bust through the brick wall, or at least climb over it quickly. She makes sure everyone is okay before herself, a self-sacrificing purity above those I have ever encountered.

Now she can put herself first, and have the peace she rightfully, justly, and respectfully deserves.

Unrecognizable Photos

Ice melting on the streets—
a reminder of global warming.
Sloshing, slipping, and skidding
along blacktops without a need
for brown, leather ice skates.
Birds migrating north to native
Big Sky Country where antelope
graze and picturesque scenery
creates the images found on postcards.
Two hundred miles away,
a park once known for naming
150 glaciers, dissolves its population
to a mere 27. A beautiful portrait
burns and fades underneath flaming skies.
Ungrateful, unthankful, and wasteful—
Mother Nature would be ashamed.

Shipwrecked

The lonely calls of Manx Shearwaters echo
across the vast waters of the Atlantic.
The catamaran drifts further from
the destination without deck crews
to guide it Westbound. The Captain
strands himself on his own ship,
by slowly pushing each mate away.
Once being entitled to a few selfish moments,
they became frequent and old
like the sea-green algae lining the ship’s hull.
Alone, he stands, searching for someone
to guide him home, but finding only Shearwaters
hunting fish in the dark, frigid waters.

new year, new beginnings

What an amazing start to the New Year...


Paiton Lynn Seader
January 2nd, 2009
8 lbs, 20 1/2" long

 

I am excited to see my niece, and am actually planning a visit to California in March or April. My sister and Clint are amazing parents already, and I am thrilled for them.