Blast From the Past

This was a draft post dated September 28, 2007...I think it is time to dust it off and publish the sucker. Please remember that I was writing about the past and it may not properly reflect what I now feel. I have been working on my perception as perception is so incredibly important! In fact your mind can persuade you of quite remarkable things and some of them aren't healthy in the slightest.

I have been meaning to share a very special blog with you, dear reader. I think the minute you begin reading Orangette you realize what a blog should be: personal, warm, friendly, witty, informative, whimsical and charming. In fact, it is little wonder that Molly met her husband through her blog. For a lovely little real life romance centered around food (a certain lemon cake actually) check out the link to their Food Network profile.

I think this brings home how blogs can bring people together. I know that in the food blogging world (yes, there is one) fellow bloggers have established friendships exchanging ideas, tips, stories, recipes and information. They also actually visit each other. I find this sweet and amazing as I find it hard to even catch up with friends that live in the same city. I think it opens my eyes to what lives other people lead that seem to have sweeping vistas.

For me most trips are carefully, nearly painfully pondered where I have to skirt around possible problems and constraints: financial, time, logisitics, not to mention the huge clothing dilemna. I make everything much harder than it should be and it is all due to insecurity on my part. The actual travelling I relish, it is the process prior to the journey that bothers me. I have this fear of what people from my past will think of me to the point I have hidden when I have seen someone from high school in a store. This is arrogant on my part as I don't think they would necessarily remember me anyway. I usually remember people while they forget. The problem is this fear extends to family and friends. I hide from them too. When I didn't I had to prepare myself for it and I wasn't always successful....

In July of 2003 I went to a college friend's wedding in Maine. The trip in general was fantastic and the wedding lovely, but the night before the wedding I was struck with such waves of sadness, embarassment and a sense of not belonging or fitting in that I couldn't eat (a highly unusual occurance for me) and sat reading some local paper fighting back tears for which I luckily snapped out of later that evening and was in good spirits for the rest of the weekend. Still, I felt awful about my moodiness and inability to deal with the emotions in a "normal" way. In the back of my mind the episode only reinforced my own ideas of being socially inept and too damaged to be much of a friend. I had faced a similar situation at my maternal grandparents' 50th Wedding Anniversary a few years before in which I felt paralyzed by a feeling of profound alienation and shame at being me whilst surrounded by family.

The years following college I had a crisis of identity and I forgot how to related to others. My world became smaller and smaller as I tried to find meaning and understanding about myself. My route diverged from the norm quite radically. I didn't pursue a career nor did I pursue a romantic relationship. My feelings of alienation only increased until I became isolated, anxious, and ashamed. I assumed it would be better to stay out of people's lives than corrupt them. Yes, dear reader, I was maudlin.

Holding Back

When I checked my dabblerextraordinaire@hotmail.com email account this morning I had two comments awaiting me. One from another incredible artist from the Green Pepper Press Network Street Team and then another regarding my "Going to the Draft Pile" from the guy whose cd list I referenced. My first thought was: how amazing is the web when these things can happen? And another was I didn't properly thank him for posting such a comprehensive list and which allowed me to remember. If you have a chance go to his blog--the buKitzone. His most recent post, Reality check, refers to a what a true blogger is according to Matthew Good...I am not going to paraphrase a paraphrase (how do give the proper credit?). Essentially though it is about being authentic and not giving a damn about who may or may not be reading your blog.

I seriously wonder about this statement though. Who doesn't wonder about who is reading what they write? Who isn't at nearly all times reflecting an image of themselves which is not entirely complete? Why do they write? Does opening your whole life and thoughts to others make something more honest or is it merely a compelling need to be seen and heard above others?

I am new to the world of blogging and even when I am involved in something I am never as involved as anyone else (note the title of my blog). I have never been a fanatic about anything or rather I am passionate about a lot of things which makes it impossible to be dedicated to any one thing. My concentration is way too fractured and my commitment level has not been engaged on that level. I don't follow a band or a celebrity. I have never joined a fan club. I will be focused on something for a short time and then my attention is grabbed by something else. Even my so-called obsessions are conditional.

In all ways I hold back. A friend correctly said that about me earlier this week. I hold back to the extent I am not sure what it is I am holding back anymore. Often I hold back because to be a good person at times you must. To be a healing influence you must hold back emotional disturbances. To be a listener you have to bite your tongue. To accept you must withhold judgment. To keep another's secrets you burrow holes within yourself to hide those secrets. To be a good friend, daughter, sister, etc. you keep part of yourself only for them and not for others. To fulfill what others need you may keep your own needs at bay. To be honest I also hold back out of fear, for protection and also for selfish reasons. I will not lie that there is a certain self-righteousness in the act of holding back and pride in being the one to be the person people turn to when they need someone they trust.

Perhaps blogging is about the longing to stop holding back in whatever level or way you decide and to have hope that when you do you find yourself more than you were before....

Montage Monday

I am rather scatterbrained today. I want to do a thousand different things so as a result I am not able to do much of anything. I feel like inside me is a gleaming ball of light moving so quickly it only leaves glowing remnants. Perhaps that will explain how disjointed this blog will be.

This past weekend I have been trying to wade through my old studio. I can only go for about an hour before I want to pound my head against a wall. I am not exaggerating when I say I would prefer giving blood or visiting the dentist than go through the things I have amassed. I am half-convinced that I have some disease that makes collecting a compulsion and throwing away a torturous and painful occurrence. Somehow I imprint way too much significance, emotional meaning and memory onto objects. Much like some cultures believe a soul can be captured in a photograph, I think I may place a little of myself in the objects which I live with day in and day out. I do know I displace how I feel about a person into something they have to given me. I am not properly able to express how I feel to them, so I hold on and treasure something that represents them to me. I am getting better at letting go, but the process is no less agonizing to me. I realize others don’t understand how overwhelmed and lost I feel at these times. They perhaps are not swallowed up by the mundane and I envy them. I have no talent for all the details involved in living.

One of the positive aspects of organizing and sorting accumulated junk is the discovery of misplaced beloved trinkets. In one box that probably dates from 2001, I found high quality color copies of old photographs not used in a scrapbook project. I am going to share some of those photos as for once I did not get that sick, leaden feeling upon seeing my own face. I wasn’t the prettiest or cutest kid out there, but I think I show some spunk in my pictures. Here are a couple of pictures for your viewing pleasure. I believe I was around 4 years old on a trip in Colorado. I was much more stylish in those days than I am now.

Lastly, in my new quest for openness I am going to share something I would usually keep to myself. Harli goes in for her yearly teeth cleaning tomorrow which means she will be put under and there is always the possibility she won’t regain consciousness. Every year I go through facing Harli’s mortality and my anxiety is intensifying with each passing year. Harli is old and my time with her is waning. To tell you the truth, dear reader, I am not sure how I will be able to handle her death. Harli may be the only living being to love me wholeheartedly. Tonight, at least, I will be sticking by my little pup and she, I imagine, will love all the treats I give her although not by being smothered with hugs and kisses.