By working at an art festival,
I managed to figure some things out.

The first thing primarily being that
I don’t need as much space as
I thought I’d need to create a working studio.

What I do need however is a real table.
My existing table is on its last leg (ba-dum-dump!)
so, the time is now to find a replacement.
By table I don’t mean a one ton steel behemoth
that I can’t lift or move without a forklift.

Please forgive my absence,
I have been reading
the news in the mornings.

I know, I know,
“What was I thinking?”
I have been lax,
no, remiss in my blog reading.

So much so that my browser doesn’t
recognize my blog address,
much less my other favorite blogs.

My goal was to figure out
what the Flibbety-jibbet is
going on in America.

What a mess we have made.
There is so much anger,
posturing and righteous indignation
that it makes me queasy every day.

Can’t we, the people,
strive for common life goals of food,
health and clean water. Wealth
is in the eye of the beholder.
I’m not asking for that.
My efforts at political commentary
end here.

Good morning.
I’m trying to think (Ha-ha, Keep trying…)
of a way to stay diligent with my blog
and life and art and health.

Changing my format is
one way to create a new start.
(Life is too short, computer glitches
make my teeth ache so
leave well enough alone.)

Writing regularly is another way
to get back into the swing of blogging.
Sitting still is one of the problems
I have at the moment.

I no longer have insomnia, YAY!
so I don’t write in the middle of the night anymore.

When I wake up there is an urgency
to function in this world rather than in my head,
like a good little world citizen. So,
I read the news until I can’t stomach anymore,
then the morning alarms start going off.

My Child has to get up.
Girly may or may not have preschool
She goes two days a week

I have to drive the Teenage Toddler (My Child)
to school if he misses the 6:30am bus.

I get to breathe for a minute
then I have to start waking up
the zombie, I mean the Silent Sentinel.
He may or may not be catching a
9:30 or 10am bus in the next town over
to get to his alternative school.

This is not what I was expecting,
for my children, for school to be
such an arduous journey
toward graduation.

When I was in school,
I got that my job was to study
while boy watching, listening to music
singing, making art and babysitting.

Now is a whole different era.
Kids (the little ids) have no purpose.

Maybe I should have
created restrictions for them
so they could rebel and
be happy with their decisions.

It’s so grey outside
cold and rainy like Ohio
is in the fall.
My mood is falling.

Be a good mom/human/mental patient
and take my medication
eat some food and
turn on the happy light.


“id |id|
noun Psychoanalysis
the part of the mind in which innate instinctive impulses and primary processes are manifest. Compare with ego and superego.” Apple dictionary © 2005-2011 Apple Inc. All Rights Reserved.

“ego |ˈēgō|
noun ( pl. egos )
a person’s sense of self-esteem or self-importance: a boost to my ego.
• Psychoanalysis the part of the mind that mediates between the conscious and the unconscious and is responsible for reality testing and a sense of personal identity. Compare with id and superego.
• Philosophy (in metaphysics) a conscious thinking subject.” Apple Dictionary © 2005-2011 Apple Inc. All Rights Reserved.

“superego |ˌso͞opərˈēgō|
noun ( pl. superegos ) Psychoanalysis
the part of a person’s mind that acts as a self-critical conscience, reflecting social standards learned from parents and teachers. Compare with ego and id.” Apple Dictionary © 2005-2011 Apple Inc. All Rights Reserved.



Any thoughts on the above post are appreciated! Otherwise, I think I must be living under a rock.

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