Have prepped a page to draw or sketch Ilhan Omar. Think I wanna do it in pencil, but it's in a sketchbook so not quality paper for a finished work. I'll try to consciously be less detail-strict and focus on the feeling, the textures. Small so it's less intimidating. Finished a painting for one of my sisters, but not my kinda thing. Working on a platform for cone incense, because they won't burn if air is cut off from the bottom. I've taken some screening and wired it to a plumbing slip nut. Over that I've baked some Pluffy. That's uneven but can be made to look nice by dding asymmetrical details in putty - say, vines/leaves and clusters of grapes, or leaves and ladybugs. You could do that with clay in the appropriate colors, I'd prefer grey putty and enamel paints. Because the mesh allows ash to fall through, it can be set on a brass platform for candles.
I'm moving out of one darkness a little (my broken friendship with Dana, having at least finally been able to say to her the most important things), have faced the second (my mom passing), and am still in the middle of the third (fearing for a roof over my head). As for the first two, I'm still alive. When I do get a little sleep at night most of my dreams are dull and innocuous. No Dana in them. But then I wake up and I suddenly remember that mom is gone, and remember the situation. The shelter of the room and blankets no longer feel real. Most nights are like that now, I get more sleep only when my body forces it. Most nights dreams are forgettable and neutral. Tuesday or Wednesday night was puntuated by miserable nightmares of loss, one each of the four times I slept. Fucking long night.
I am - maybe? sorta? - at a place where I'm thinking this is survivable. I just don't see anything good coming. Nothing that will be worth it. Just more whitling away at my life. New York is so far off. Meanwhile I keep trying to part with things are a part of me. Things my mom gave me, things I created, aspirations I'd had and have been trying to achieve.
I'm not suicidal, which is surprising. Wish I'd get hit by a car, though. Struck by lightning maybe. Just scared and dealing with grief a moment at a time. Wishing I didn't have a greedy, grasping, lying brother making this as difficult as he possibly can...his behavior is bordering on sociopathy. I think he wants us to sell the house so he can buy it in order to either flip it or give it to one or both of his own kids. Anything to get us out of it. Family meeting had some choice word for and about him. I tried telling him on the phone yesterday, and he refused to hear it: however he thinks he's coming across, he's not*. He's got a perception problem, and it stems from himself. No one in the family can figure him out, we all think he's crazy. If what he hears doesn't suit the narrative he wants to cling to, it's fake news and we're all lying and out to get him. Sounds a lot like a certain criminal POS he voted for. (That's not a right or left thing, ANY of the other candidates would have made more sense.)
*I imagine Dana could say the same of me, exept that I'm willing to listen.
I do still hope Dana will share with me what she's been through and tell me of her path out of it. I want to hear that things are good for her now, and it would be so good to hear it right from her. I want to see her smile.
Well, whatever happens Dana did right by me. She saved my life, I think, and she did finally reach out to me. I'm not abandoning hope of her doing it again. And I'm not falling out of love with her. I wouldn't know how.
Will have new glasses finally in ten days. Progressive lenses, never had before so will take getting used to.
Haircut is growing out. Instead of looking like one of Trump's thugs, now I look like a muppet.
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Edit, Saturday morning. One of my nieces has bi-polar disorder. Between the loss of her adoring grandparents and the abuse of her so-called boyfriend, she had a bad low last night and called out to Karla for help. As of this morning I haven't heard word back yet. Karen said she might have to go to the hospital.
Her young daughter Katie fell out of a playground swing the very day mom passed, broke both her forearms. My friend Scott, his father was badly injured a few days go (recovering). Jesseca's mom's car flipped over a few days ago. I have urged Jesseca several times to please do a protection spell for herself. I'm not kidding about it.
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My niece is...I don't know, it's too early to say she's doing better but she's still with us. She's considering her options on how to proceed for the next few weeks. Another close one. No one in my family is getting much of a break, no day to rest, to wrap ourselves in a semblence of peace.
I'll try to work on Ilhan tonight.
Time has become inconstant. At least I'm not Billy Pilgrim.
I dreamt a prophecy, dreamt it over and over. Dreamt of the recconciliation before there ever was a rift. A few weeks ago I heard a hypnapompic voice in my halfsleep say "It's coming true". I didn't know if it referred to Dana coming back to me.
If this was it, if this is all shell give me, then the prophecy was a broken promise.
Most of those dreams came while she was still in Portland. One was a day or so before Thanksgiving, a year in the early Nineties. In the dream, I am home by myself as my parents are elsewhere. A car pulls u the driveway, the one Dana used to drive to school. her father is driving. I step out on the porch and we meet there face to face. The dream ends before we speak, as the first snow of the year is falling.
I was always half afraid of that dream because the universal interpretation of snowfall as a metaphor is death.
The night before mom died I dreamt that she and I could see the snowstorm arriving.
Dana reached out as the snow fell. But I don't sense her presence anymore. I think she's chosen to be gone again. I thought for a moment, for a day or two, that the pageview stats might mean her, but now I'm crashing again. I think some good friends from Dark Discussions might have looked in. (waves!) (I wonder where Mr. E 2 Me is these days?)
Dana, you asked me not to rob "us" of my gift. You are a gift, your friendship, your presence...you. So I ask the same. That's fair, isn't it? Don't ask of me what you are not willing to give. I've never accepted you as anything other than you. Don't be afraid to let me know you.
I know you believe in yourself, and I'm so proud of you. I don't have the first clue what you had to pay to win that. I hope it wasn't so much that you have no room in your heart to let me believe in you too, at your side. You opened the door once already. You don't have to run away before the person on the other side can see you.
Whatever your darkness you spoke of or your demons, I can take them. If that's the problem. That's one of my strengths. Trust me that much. Don't rob me of everything else over fear of those. That's such a tragic waste. I am your friend above all else.
(ugh. There's a reason I'm crashing. It's a song I was listening to a few hours ago, 'I Bet My Life'. "Remember when I broke you down to tears ...
never in my wildest dreams
Would I come running home to you"
I never want to hear that song again. Fuck. This is a song written by someone who just plain ran, who didn't bother to find out what his lover could accept or even thought. Someone who never lent an ounce of trust.)
(later) I get that the song is a plea for understanding, but...you don't get to have it both ways. If your plan is to leave the person you hurt in hell, then stop acting as if you care. You don't get forgivenes just so you can keep on hurting someone.
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Jesus, Central Eastern Multnomah County is under a flash flood warning and are being told to evacuate. I'm in SE Multnomah, somewhat higher elevation and should be safe. Hope those people are okay.
Restarting Ilhan, the page got a bad crease in it. Maybe I could use it to practice watercolor pencils though. Pretty thin paper for it but it's just a practice piece.
Dana, you did help at the darkest hour of my life. More than you'll ever know. I know It was heartfelt. I must mean something to you. You reached out, and you meant it. Please don't disappear again, I'm still in the middle of this.
Being loved really does frighten you, doesn't it? God I wish I understood you. Please let me try to understand you.
And - well, I mean, sticking with my understanding that may be way wrong - you're so sure I wanted no part of it. That I wouldn't have backed you, or would have chosen not to be at your side good and bad. Biggest fucking facepalm in history and you don't even know it. Because you didn't ask, Dana, you never dared to find out. I get that you couldn't then. But you're still not asking me anything now. Don't you have questions? Do you think you have it all figured out? Cuz i sure the fuck don't.
You told me to keep reaching out. You probably meant in general, but I'm hoping you also meant keep reaching out to you.
Still writing books, aren't I? You called the letters I used to write books. I'd love one from you. ❤
Hey...y'know, I'm in pretty bad need of money, you could commission a drawing...? Not a terrible way to break the ice, get past the wall. I love your hair in copper, btw.
There have been times I wasn't sure if you were worth all this. I know it now, you are. Please put this right.
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