Thursday, September 25, 2014

Growing up in the Park-- Steps



There is a park, and green grass freshly mowed and cleared.

I need to make little steps said the little Cassy

I need to walk slow because every movement brings me new grass

a lady bug

a dragon fly

a wood frog

I want to see

hear

touch

I want to touch the butterflies

but I know I can't

I need to trust what I'm seeing and what I'm learning so that when someone questions me when I turn 16 I will be safe in my own reality

I need to take big steps

said the big girl,

I need to dive in and not be scared

believe that all the little steps I've taken will help

when I jump over the hole in the side walk

like the frog,

Fly over the puddle like a dragon fly

Touch the caterpillar in my dream

I need to walk some of this alone

I said and some of these steps need to be done with other people

a balance

of big steps and small steps

saying I can try that

doing it on my own

then saying I don't know how to do that

getting help

I am the dragon fly

I am the wood frog

and I become the butterfly



Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Vision in Words

It was 1000 years ago and everything was different and I was standing on the bridge blowing clouds into the desert. The people of the the sand had spoken for rain, had wished for rain. And I believe in magic so I held out a cloud and sent it across the border into the dunes.

There was a small fish waiting for water, had he waited for one more second he wouldn't have lived. That one drop of water gave him breath and the second drop gave him movement and then he swam in the mudpuddle that the cloud was making.

More clouds followed and there was soon a small pond. It looked like a mirage so no one who saw it trusted the vision enough to come forward, until a small girl named Cassy rested her fingers on it's surface and cleaned the sand from the bends of her fingers.



Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Sigh

not my photo



little drops of water
hit the fire
not a lot
just enough to
hiss


strong hands
plucked notes
on the harp
not a lot
just enough to
sing


lucky the glass beads
didn't smash
when they hit
the floor
just bounded
across the tile


the many colours
of your heart
show me
who you are
not a lot
just enough to
sigh




Monday, September 15, 2014

More

I was asked today if I had a tv. I was told today of a spiderman movie and how I had to sing this week, like the villain, to train my voice to go to the right place.

I answered I don't have a tv.

And I just laughed at the Spiderman thing, but didn't admit to my singing teacher that I don't have a tv, or even net flix on my computer. TV was getting too much for me, the commercials and the violence and I wanted to read books and write my novel.

I had heard stories of people who didn't have tv and I wanted to be one of those people. I love it. But today there were two mentions of having a TV, in one day, in one day. And I feel outside and different today.

I've learned it's ok the feel "outside and different" as long as I'm happy. Because I like the life style I live. I also am wanting more and I have to balance wanting more with living in my means and what the universe and I work toward.

You hide me
Behind the curtain
Shaded me in their ripples

I walked around
The edge of the room
Spying from the outside
Looking in

The velvet furniture
The silk curtains
The TV that plays
I Love Lucy

I've still never seen
I Love Lucy

I have enough

I'm starting to
want more

"I thought you had all you need,"
she said,
"I never thought of you
wanting more."



Sunday, September 14, 2014

Just 20 Dollars

Morning broke with the alarm. I stayed in bed a little later then I should of. Last night I was writing in bed with the computer. The screen made a good night light in the dark room with a little bit of holly cole and jesse cook and this morning I stepped on the computer. It ruined it and I was promised that even though it was less than a year old, warranties would not cover such a tragedy. I learned that you can't just shut off your internet and base your work around a typewriter for a few months while you get your finances together.

The clerk found it funny that I said "Don't you just have a typewriter? That's all I need."

On the plus side it was worth it, the guy who sold it to me was nice and kinda cute, but that makes me an old lady creeping on the young boys. And my computer is red. And works better than the other one even before it was broken. I was told I should get the one that was 20 dollars more because it was just 20 dollars. It must be nice to live in a world where it's "just 20 dollars"

Since my computer was down I hadn't checked to see how much was actually in my account but I had a general Idea that I needed the cheapest computer. So there's no disk drive to play good fellas and traffic for an evening rest.

Just 20 dollars eh? I came home shocked at the actual price, compared to what was written on the little tag on the wall. And after checking on facebook and my email I went to see my account. I had 20 dollars in my bank account. Just enough to do my laundry.

the phone and power will have to wait a little while longer I guess.



Saturday, September 13, 2014

Flicker

I used to write in blood
But I’m reformed now
And resort only to ripping out my soul
When sending you a letter
Not pricking the vein
Beside the heart
Writing out my words

Words, a vine,
Climbing the concrete
The leaves and fruit
Pale in wine and
Stuffed with rice and lamb
Always a bitter taste
That ends in being full

The butterfly flew
In my bedroom window ajar
On the third floor
Fluttered to the bed post
And whispered that the change
Is better than anything
A caterpillar can believe

I used to flicker in blood
Dance to the music
And then curl back up
In a deep depression
Only eating
Only living
When pushed by others

Words are ashes
On the kitchen table
Like incense
After the burn
Pale in wine
And stuffed
With pain and hunger

The butterfly
Landed on my nose
I jumped
She said
You’re more timid
Than you let others
Believe

Inside the birth
Of the butterfly
The breathing
Of the flame
I stir in the ashes
I choke on air

And learn to flicker

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Counterpoint

So I was meditating and my main train of thought was Why my novel seems to be stalled after some outlines and some free falls

Well, I thought, I’m just not good enough, there’s still more to learn, I can’t possibly think I’m good enough to write a novel.

What about other things like singing for people, I asked

Well I’m certainly not a good enough singer to sing in front of people and take myself seriously there’s still a lot I don’t know; people would laugh at me and say ‘even a child knows to do such and such.’

And although when I sit and put pen to paper I don’t physically think this, I’ve heard myself the last couple days focusing on the fact that I’m not very good at stuff and people should know, I know, I’m not very good.

Oh my brain

And then I smack myself (not really but sort of) and do something right. Sing High when the piano plays low learn a song I’ve never heard before take a class and achieve what the teacher asks, like a sonnet in 20 minutes.

SO what have I learned this long weekend? I will continue to remind myself I’m pretty awesome. That I can do what I put my mind to and in the true fashion of Frostyness, when I make a mistake, and need help to fix it, I say:

 I’m awesome but I need some help.


So I still may not know what counterpoint is and cannot tell you all the symbolism in Jane Eyre. But I’m going to keep writing and singing. 

And I’ll google counterpoint.