tinyPterodactyl

In the middle of one of those fall-shaped vortices of nostalgia, which is its own kind of blankness or ability to grasp whatever my real is like right now. I swear late October/early November must have been ... something to me in the past, because this recurrence is maddening. I want the insight-key to unlock this pattern. Anyway. I deep-dove into old blogs I used to care enough to bookmark, and found a veritable graveyard. I find that I want to move so far away from the faceb**k & twi**er-verses but also that I need some sort of way to connect to others, but I've let all of those old muscles and connections wither. (Though, also, to be fair - to beeeee faaaaaaaaaiiiir - the people I like the most aren't on any of those already. They're also more reclusive than anyone else I might want to spend time with, as I generally refuse to be egotistical enough to worry that they're just avoiding me.) I need to reestablish new rhythms, but of course this isn't just about ...

On the day that I drew the Page of Cups and accidentally pull along with it the Five of Cups and the Seven of Coins, I also read this: https://therumpus.net/2018/07/hannibal-lecter-my-therapist/

I realized something important: For a long time now, I've been really focused on how to best deploy my gifts. Tied with this was an expectation - unspoken, maybe even disallowed at the conscious level - that, if I were appropriately doing this, the impact would be great.  That is, somehow I figured myself destined for great things, and somehow failing if I'm only attaining run-of-the-mill decent-human things. I've also held back from some things that I've wanted to explore because of this (the ADHD prolly doesn't help this).  Jessa Crispin's Tarot Tuesdays often provide fodder for my own reflection, and last night's was no exception. In talking about the First House, and responding specifically to my question (Neptune conjunct ascendant, both in Sag), she mentioned that Neptune in the first can make a person not really be able to see themselves; they'll possibly think that they're truly great, or the absolute worst. (No delusions of mediocrity, appar...

This pain that I'm feeling in my chest Isn't an indication of something that needs to be healed And instead of something that needs to break out...       ... to be accepted?       ... to be born?

In a fit of nostalgia, I went past-blog diving; in an abandoned Livejournal, I found a past-year wrapup that mentioned favorite movies watched that year. One of them that was mentioned, I have absolutely no  recall of ever watching. There's just a ... blank spot, not even marginal awareness of what the film might be about. Of course I'm about to look this up, but for the moment, I remain ignorant, and both bewildered and unsurprised that something I apparently found so impactful apparently evaporated in the neural ether. Things I listened to today: Maren Morris, Girl  and Hero  alike Ingrid Andress, Lady Like Luke Dick, Red Dog  first 2 songs ("Polyester" and "Blazer") - finally might get to watch the documentary tonight too! Things I keep re-reading:    Rachel Blau DuPlessis,  "Draft 72: Nanifesto" Today, what strikes me is: "Meditate air threads in angles of light. / Consider the mite, the mote, the mute."

Steven Universe provides a necessary model of revolutionary thought right now. It's love, but not in that passive or accepting or even unifying state - it is powerful and sometimes violent because it knows there is a better way, and it also shuns, if necessary. Not because shunning feels nice, but because sometimes you have to throw out that which makes the future you want possible. And sometimes that future may mean that there's an actual way back to re-incorporating that which has been excommunicated - but it's not a given, and it requires actual, painful, long-term work to learn to re-love. Things I read today:    George Saunders, "Ghoul" Amber Tamblyn, "The Undying Voice of Diane di Prima" Things I keep re-reading:    Rachel Blau DuPlessis, "Draft 72: Nanifesto" I keep coming back, this is a bit of a prayer. Each line has at least some kernel to ponder or muse upon. Today, what strikes me is: "Do not fail sadness."  Things I liste...

There is a person in my department who cares not one whit whether anyone else thinks he's nice. This isn't deployed as an excuse to behave assholeishly - rather, it seems like an effort of economization, one where likeability lost out to whatever other three hundred things are more important. I know his partner rather better, and she's a delightful person, so I'm betting that he's got some specifically likeable qualities (I suppose that's a rather generous conjecture - again anecdotally, I know loads of lovely people with awful taste in partners, so... grain of salt, applied!) that don't come across in his quotidian interactions. If there is indeed something different about general likeability versus specific likeability... I think I probably waste too much time on behaviors designed to perpetuate an impression of niceness. I hope that I'm likeable in specific ways, or at least that those people who matter to me also find my continued presence in their...

I've kept many diaries; some of them were gorgeously wrapped things, all of them were purchased or procured in a near-fevered fashion, for I was certain that having the right tool would naturally lead to getting the right words down. The impulse was there, always. But it was clouded, because any words I wrote down were always with some unknown reader in mind, some fantasy other who marveled at my wit, or creativity, or candor. None of these books were filled, to my memory. Quarter-filled notebooks full of overmediated yuck. I remember a self who used to love to write, but I can't actually seem to access that self - so I wonder if that was a bit of a fiction, too. Or perhaps the retelling has muddied things. Anyway. I'm going to try to write to write, not write to be read. I mean, the ultimate goal is to be read, of course, but I think I need to practice the messaging-as-such. The writerly is one of the ways that I need to connect, so feeling so very disconnected from th...

... of that fake German that sits as the subtitle for this whatever-this-is, I've been working on divestment. On lightening up. (I have to remind myself to do things like this fairly often; it's apparently my lifelong lesson, which means I have to learn it over and over again. Or practice the realizations that I had at some point prior.) So, this means looking at many different aspects of my life and asking simple/hard questions. What have I been saving that has outlived any potential for its use? What have I been holding on to "just in case..."?  Do I have expectations (of myself, of life, of whatever) that I have outgrown? That are holding me back? That are no longer relevant? What habits need to be broken? Begun?  Where do I waste? Where could I save? Where should I expend or give more? This process is physical and psychical in perhaps equal measure. I've thus far been bravest in the realm of stuff - much has been donated, some has been tossed, so...

Sweet goodies A* and I have a long history of making sweets as gifts; every season, we've stayed up far, far too late and made a wide variety of skill-testing treats, and this is a practice that we also included when we planned our wedding in February of 2010. This year, we made less of a variety than usual, but definitely found at least one keeper recipe (all of them are good, but the apple cider caramels are amazingly simple and have a short, great list of ingredients). Apple Cider Caramels I don't think that Deb Perelman has ever been wrong about anything kitchen-wise. While I often tweak her recipes (I tend to want more spice than she does), this one is perfect as-is, though also delicious, I discovered quite by forgetful accident, even with the cinnamon and salt omitted. We have access to some lovely unpasteurized apple cider here in WNY, but even if you have to use the kind you find at the supermarket, these are tangy and delicious. And it is nice to b...

Textiles The best thing about the things that I made for Luka is that he's quite aware that they were handmade, and whenever playing with or wearing said item, likes to say "Mama made it." This is adorable, and makes the making worth it, if that makes any sense. Play silks These took a lot of time but not a particular lot of work, and I'm very happy with the results. I found 35" square plain white china silks online, and used some Procion dye that I've had around for ages, and created a rainbow selection for the kid. The process is simple, and sort of meditative, and only smelly during those last ten minutes. I used some stuff that I had in my stash from ages ago, but would be up for experimenting with more natural dyes, too, just need to read more about non-poisonous fixatives for them. These steps will work well for any fiber reactive dye, for wool or for silk (though you'll want to agitate at a minimum for the wool, so as to prevent...

Body Products I made three types of body products, and I'll probably never spend $ at Lush again since I've learned how to make wonderful stuff at home. (Also, this way, I was able to control my own inputs, which allowed me to NOT include some weird chemical stuff that they happen to use.) Bath bombs I made three types of bath bombs: one for kiddos (calming, colored and/or sparkly); one for sore muscles and relaxation; and one initially designed for some pregnant friends of mine, but that also work well for anyone who is trying to heal a wound, plagued by hemorrhoids, or prone to bouts of elevated blood pressure. The basic recipe is simple: 2 parts baking soda 1 part citric acid 1 part either: corn starch (good for the skin) or Epsom salts (great for sore muscles, stress, blood pressure issues) The calming ones for kids included corn starch, as well as organic lavender essential oil and chamomile tea leaves. I made some of them pink and sparkly (and also ...

We ended up making about 85% of our presents for others this year. This was a bit nerve-wracking (I always spend a lot of time in the planning phase, and then still end up staying up late for days on end making sure that everything gets done; I am not great at the incremental steps that could alleviate this issue) but for the most part, I'm really happy with the results. I thought I would share the range of items here, since I benefited from the willingness of others to share their own ideas. The purposes of these projects were twofold: First, I love the "spirit" of the holidays but I absolutely hate the consumerism and the ... weird sense of guilt that wanting to be generous but nearly always being too poor that seems to go with the season. Choosing to give in to that guilt is a bit like being a Scrooge with myself - so I needed something, a practice, to get me out of that mindset. Second, I've spent this year getting rid of debt (still not done but so, so much...

There are things that pass slowly, sadnesses that linger, seemingly buried memories that resurface at the least convenient moments... That's not what I want to talk about today. Rather, I'd like to simultaneously celebrate and mourn some of the wonderful iterations of language that the kid shares with us. There are already sayings that have passed into nearly-too-distant memory - I don't want to let more of those fade before finding a way to record them. So. There is Zjahpepp-her . This is often followed by an emphatic "Know it!" It took us an entire evening to figure out what Zjahpepp-her meant - we knew it was a specific word, because L. said it so similarly each time, and we new it had to be for a specific object, because he kept trying to show us something. It wasn't until he was making "soup" the next day, when he told Aaron "Zjahpepp-her soups!" that we actually got it. Zjahpepp-her = vegetables. Though he can say "veggi...

For these holidays, I've decided (we've decided) to make most of our presents for people. It's a pleasant sort of challenge, since even if I'm making the same *kind* of thing for several people, it lets me think about each specific person's personality, particular situation, potential wants or needs, and try to make accordingly. It's also a way for me to feel generous even in a year when we can't afford a lot monetarily. This first thing I'm sharing probably doesn't really count, since it was for Thanksgiving (sort of), and it's just a lil digital output. But I found a lovely meditation from Philip Moffitt, and wanted to share it with Aaron - but also didn't necessarily think he'd read the whole thing. I'm not big on Thanksgiving as a holiday per se at all, but I've been feeling very desirous and needy of working on my attitude of late, and this was a timely way to share those feelings. So I adapted Moffitt's meditation on ...

I recently sold off most of my knitting supplies; over the years, I'd amassed some needles, some not-small quantity of yarn, some books, all of which sat mostly unused in a big wicker box. In a need to have some extra funds and also a desire to de-clutter, that whole stash went to another knitter. I figured that, since I never became the knitter that I (thought I) wanted to be, I just wouldn't want to knit. Perhaps interestingly, perhaps predictably: since that point, I have found a desire to knit. So, I've bought enough yarn for a few very specific projects, and the needles (nice ones this time, no metal, no acrylic) for them, and I've diligently yet non-manically worked on said projects. I might actually even be getting decent at it, but I'm also not too worried about that. I think I understand what might be at play here. I have this tendency to expect great things, and to get frustrated and/or discouraged when a project requires more than headlong effort. T...

So this is something that more emotionally with-it people have understood for ages, but it's something of a revelation to me: explaining how you're feeling, AS you are feeling, helps. It doesn't exactly ensure that you are heard, but it at least creates the opportunity that you might be. It doesn't always solve every issue as you perceive them, but it might make them less important, or provide a new perspective. Sometimes, it lets the worries that you were having just... float away. It's going to take a lot of practice for me to shed my tendency towards the silent and/or wry reception of things (things that I don't like, and also, too often, things that I do like), but I like how it feels to be open, to be honest. I feel lighter, and that, as this thing on my arm continuously reminds me, is one of those lessons that life is determined to teach me over and again. ( erleichda is the semi-created term [bastardized German, in a good way] by Tom Robbins, from ...

A week and a day ago, my grandmother, Vera, had a stroke. Every time I try to find the words to describe this woman, I fail. Aside from my mother, she is the most important individual influence in my life; from her, at the very least, I know that I have gotten many of my ideas about pride and about work, and from reflecting on the relationship between my her and my mother, I've developed most of my ideas about the necessity of forgiveness, and about the failures that are an intrinsic part of parenting. Most of all, from her I learned about strength, and strong is also the primary single adjective that I come to when thinking of her. She raised her daughter as a single parent in a day when this was hardly done. She provided for that daughter, and for that daughter's daughter, too, by dedicating herself to her work. She survived two bouts of cancer, and did so without - at least as far as I ever knew - feeling sorry for herself. She learned to dance after her first retiremen...

For almost 11 weeks, we thought we were going to be parents a second time around. (Or rather, we knew about the pregnancy for about 8 of these weeks - gotta be accurate, right?) I still don't know how to talk about this, really, but I've found that I'm thinking about this set of experiences all too often, and sometimes the way for me to move past something is to write it out. Maybe that will work here. We'd started doing that almost surreal work of re-imagining our lives with another individual around; just as we'd grown accustomed to our particular threesome, we learned it was to be a foursome - and this news was met with equal parts excitation and bewilderment. At least on my part. As I found myself increasingly giddy with this prospect, I also experienced a new self-doubt - what if this pregnancy were rougher than the last one? What if I wouldn't be as lucky in getting the birth I wanted? What if, what if... these are the musings of a mother-to-be, and I ...

So I'm one of those people who needs an overarching concept, idea, or goal to introduce any semblance of discipline into my life. I spent a lot of my twenties (the late ones, even, not so much the early ones) drinking more than was tasteful (or affordable, even), smoking, eating a lot of chocolate, indulging in all manner of tasty things, and so on. There was certainly an overarching concept at work here: that's delicious, I want more. There was not a lot of examination of how these things were making me feel. Even the pragmatic arguments against these practices fueled my special brand of decadence; when smokes in NY went to nearly $10 a pack for non-rez prices, I justified this as showing particular commitment to my hedonism, budget and lungs be damned. (I'd also like to note here that I'm not griping about any of these practices per se, but rather my relationship to each of them.) Various things over the years have led me to quit drinking (though I'll toast ...