* I am just going to go ahead and put this p.s. at the beginning for all you lovely people. A pre, rather than post, script, as it were. One year ago, as of this past Monday, I started this blog and it has found its meandering way into my routine as an important outlet. Thank you for taking this emotionally intense trip with me. One year, man… That’s a big deal to me. I am being facetiously dramatic by saying that I’ve recently gone through a crisis of blog faith and I would like to thank a few lovely women who assured me that it’s not JUST self important aggrandizing (ha)… It can sometimes help others in terms of offering the scope they need in their own lives. I am honored to provide whatever assistance I can by sharing my experience; as others have done for me (maybe in a more justified and eloquent capacity but I do what I can). For all intents and purposes it really is my aim to Hamlet the hell out of life (the actual play, and not just my cat, in this instance) and “hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature.” But I digress.
Continue reading “Somebody to Love”
[“Human” – Rag’n’Bone Man]
This is an image of my favorite wall in Fishtown. It’s at the corner of Hancock St. and Cecil B. Moore Ave. Whenever I have one of my lovely couch surfing evenings with my Fishtown friends, I make a habit of parking nearby so that I can watch and appreciate the artistic changes over time. I am a close follower of Philly street artists. Unlike murals (as much as I love those too), wheatpaste posters, plaster installations, and stickers are more at the mercy of the elements. These art pieces are readily subject to destruction and are therefore, largely, temporary. For that I appreciate them all the more. Not only do I appreciate them for their short-lived nature, but I also admire how they subtly beautify and funkify the ordinary into something worth noting. Something extraordinary. Mail boxes, defunct telephone booths, crumbling walls, chain link fences, bus stops, etc. They all benefit from these little accents created by artists who are truly talented and enthusiastic about their craft.
Continue reading “Human”
I am scared. Contrary to what it seems with my penchant to travel alone; jump out of airplanes; and voice my life’s trials, tribulations, experiences, and beautiful embarrassments in this very public space… I really exist in an anxious and largely scared state of mind. Maybe I am like the Bruce Banner of anxiety… Maybe it’s my superhero burden to bear (wow, self important much, Liz? Though, green is my favorite color…) Continue reading “I Can Change”
[“I Ain’t Done” – Louis Barabbas & The Bedlam Six]
*I should have posted this earlier, but since this is my birth-month I hope you kind people will allow me a pass. It’s been a busy week in the most spectacular way possible.
Ladies and gents, I am now 28 years old. As of Monday, 3/19/18, I have entered my 29th year of life. My dudes, I am getting old. But, as they say, age is just a number right? Just an arbitrary counting system to assign a numerical value and therefore more coherent concept to the passage of time and, outside of the body’s obvious physical trek, upon each human’s progress through existence. “Growing old is mandatory and growing up is optional” as they say but there has to be some sort of comfortable balance I can reach, right? Somewhere between young/feckless and old/immovable.
Continue reading “I Ain’t Done (Being Young)*”
Being sick sucks y’all… Here I am saying that I need to stop laying on the couch feeling sorry for myself but this is literally what a stupid cold is forcing me to do. The weather needs to get itself together and stop being a moron so that some of us can actually breathe. Anyway, in an effort to overcome, as always, I am here with more topics for consideration since I literally can’t take the sullen introspection anymore.
Continue reading “Lost in My Mind”
I feel as though I can be comfortable with the expectations I have set for myself this year. Last year didn’t kill me, so if that is my base line, I at least know I can survive this one given nothing actually, physically, disastrous happens (I am currently knocking on every form of wood I can reach). I have said the purpose of life is to survive it, but that was admittedly during one of my darker moments. Right now, I can see with the foggy realization, the general though occasionally begrudging acceptance that despite the difficulty, the purpose of life is to live it—with some damn VIGOR where possible.
The tragedies of last year are of the past, I am clinging to them as a bad dream, lest I forget all together, but I now intend to live with some kind of intention after a really rough six months (at least, you know, until all the enthusiasm wears off and everyone leaves the gym again—kidding, mostly). It was all a bad dream (sorry for bastardizing the words, Biggie), it’s now time to wake up.
Continue reading “All Will Be Well”
I want to write today. I want to speak my truth. I want to say what I am feeling and thinking. I want to be beautiful and wonderful and have the most intuitive and inspiring things to say. Things that will set the world on fire with a passion for living, loving, and thriving. I want to give to you all something to hold warm and close on this gray, and now seemingly prematurely dark, day because quite frankly I’m struggling to find the happy in today. Continue reading “Today is Lacking in Music…”
The following is dedicated to the people in my life who have made life worth living. Yes, always, but most importantly recently.
Something I have discovered recently is that I have one of the most valuable and enviable things a human can possess – true friends – people who are worth celebrating and who celebrate me in return.
Continue reading “Hold on to People Worth Celebrating”
I thought, when posting recently about the birth of this writing outlet, on my personal Facebook page, that it would maybe garner some small interest from those who have been emotionally invested in the situation following “The Day”… No offense to any of you, but I never expected the outpouring of love and support I have received across platforms. I know all of you are wonderful and supportive people, but what’s one more sob story in a world experiencing so many right now? I am overwhelmed and cannot thank you enough for your compassion. Each kind word has greatly helped silence the little destructive bastards who have taken up residence in my chest (and brain) and I am eternally grateful to call you friends (yes, even the family members are friends, it’s an important distinction).
Continue reading “Thank You All…”
So… the first thing I have had to address in using my personal stitch cutter to delicately separate my life from the one I had aligned myself with over the past decade is establishing the things over which I have a full hold and vested interest, and which ones I need to either dismiss or reclaim based on the one-third of my life which is now, for lack of a better term, of the very aggressively and decided past. For example, I want to reclaim Iceland, the place of our honeymoon, because it was actually a transformative experience for me personally. It was the first time, in years, that I felt like a normal person because I had finally taken control of my mental health and decided to begin a regime of medication. So, Iceland was a world and experience lived in color again… a world which, despite my best efforts previously, had finally regained some scope and depth, one in which I could actually feel hope and happiness rather than trying to make myself rationally reach those outcomes through aggressive mental calisthenics. I associate this amazing change with one of the most important events a couple can experience, a celebration of “the happiest day” a couple will plan and execute. I assume you see the conundrum? Yes, I did something for the betterment of my relationship (not being depressed as all hell) but it was also for me that I made that change. That is how I now need to approach every thing that has become an aspect of my life because of the influence of that *other* person I, apparently mistakenly, chose to call my love.
Continue reading “Retaking my World”