Ok - so I bought a new book [not true: I bought about 8 new books and 5 art journals] for vacation (which doesn't start until Friday).
Here is the thing - I stayed up all night READING one of them (
DarkPlaces by
Gillian Flynn). It qualifies as one of those, 'perhaps someone else had a
worser (I know this is bad grammar) childhood than I (I know this should say 'me'). The point is, if you can forget my bad grammar, is that it has been a long time since I have been gripped by a book in this manner. I have 'enjoyed' some and actually 'loved' others. But this one - it is like the first time I read
Augusten Burrough's A WOLF AT THE TABLE or
Haven Kimmel's IODINE. I was rocking, reading, and closing the book, turning off the light, turning the light back on, until 6:15 a.m.
PLEASE TELL ME I AM NOT THE ONLY PSYCHO NIGHT READER!
Hence - being in an altered state of stunned stupidity (or perhaps just
otherworldness), I appeared at a 10:30 a.m. meeting with my web designer, which isn't until tomorrow. um. ding dang. I blame this fugue on my altered literary reality.
That is what I consider a good read. To be so altered that I don't know, or really give a taco, what day it is. Another sign - when you feel that you have only 2 toes on your right foot, like the main character. Check - GOOD BOOK. Sitting up rocking yourself - CHECK, good book - thanks
Augusten and Haven!!
Kudos to Gillian Flynn for having the balls to write about a flawed, but -therefore- believable character.
This girl woman - Libby - is s
omeone with twisted thinking, but is
loveable at the same time.
Which, as you know - is my goal in life - to be the twisted soul that I am, but to be
loveable (and, loving, of course).
So, dear readers, who are all readers yourself - tell me,
what is the last book that kept you up all night??? I'm just dying to know!
Other 'wee hours' of the morning books from my literary past:
IT, THE STAND, INSOMNIA (how Ironic) - Stephen King
I Know This Much is True - Wally Lamb
. . . . just to name a few!
I had every intention of posting weekly . . . especially chapters from the <i>Coping Skills</i>book as a 'tester' - but, as usual, life happens when your busy making other plans.
My estranged Grandfather died and it took him weeks to be interred in his self-aggrandized mausoleum; I spiralled into an emotional whirlpool (i.e., emotionally flushed down the toilet); I had an exciting 2 days of working in the studio for a whopping total of 3 hours; and,
whammy . . .
back to one year ago with pain and general malaise. Perhaps the surgeon did know what he was talking about - 1 year until I am as recovered as I will ever be.
In the meantime . . . I'll just keep stitching my percocet bottles and putting them on display . . . 
In theory - this is progress. Right? I mean, it is something. Not much, but something.
This means that in 1 year I have finished, maybe (if we stretch it) 10 pieces??? So much for my legendary productivity and self-discipline.
In the MEAN time . . .
I am working on my PATIENCE.
My LIGHT & LOVE.
I am reading books, playing on a DS Light, playing Beatles on the digital piano, watching every documentary available on Netflix Instant Watch, compiling my Good Reads Library (I am near 900 hundred 'read' books), and being the best mother that I can be from my couch.
For example, I now know that: I can say a few things about the artmaking and parenthood . . . taking care of your own needs - that is just putting the oxygen mask on yourself (as they instruct you in life and death situations in an airplane) before connecting the child . . . if you go out - then no one is there to save the kid.
I am working on some new series (slowly) about how the woman is the womb of the family - even for her husband. All the umbilical cords go from her - and thus connect the man to the child, but through her. She is the keystone, if her foundation isn't strong - it all goes to hell. If she doesn't feed herself - all connected to her will suffer.
A child is born . . . and then we train them to crawl, stand, walk, run . .. away.
There are days I want to run away to a job . . . because the multi-tasking of parenting is crazy. But even as disabled as I am right now - - - I know that me being here - on the couch - allows them to have a center - they revolve around me . . . they boomerang out and then come back home. It feels good to give them what they really need - an ear to hear and an eye to SEE them . . . every second that I can give that undivided and exultant attention - it is more than most mothers give in a lifetime. My kids probably think I am a terrible mother, but I hope - that in the future - as they look back, that they will realize that I SAW them and HEARD them.
This year has taught me so much about myself and life in general - I guess it was necessary, and it is still hanging with me. I don't know if I will ever be back 100 percent physically. But emotionally and spiritually, I feel like I have grown 'backbone' . . . and that, even from my couch "Yes I Can, Have My Cake & Eat It, Too".
So, In the MEAN time - What I have learned is that:
"Yes You Can - Have Your Cake & Eat It, Too" Sher Fick, 2010
1 - I am more than just my title of 'artist'
2 - I still define myself as an artist, even though I cannot artMAKE right now
3 - There is something, somewhere in the near future, that I will find - that 'ah ha' moment when I fully understand the benefit from this STATIC physical state.
Hello, peanut gallery, what PRAY TELL, could that be???