365 Days Later

It's good to look back, to see what has become of all the time in between. One year ago today, I would have given anything to look 365 days into the future, to know what I know now. After such a hard couple of weeks, to know at some point there would be an upswing. To know that my decision regarding one boy would be the right one, or wrong one. To know that my grieving for my grandma would lessen. To know that quitting my job was the right decision, or wrong one.

So, here I am. 365 days later. And it's an odd, bittersweet 365 days later. I can't remember the last time I was poorer. Or happier. I'm at that sweet spot, between storms, when everything is calm and ok. I feel like a deeper, richer soil than I was a year ago. And part of that is because of so many of those decisions I made exactly 365 days ago. I'm not convinced that dating that boy was the right decision. I wish I had listened more to my intuition, the small voice speaking doubts. But at the same time, I don't regret it. I was shaped, and in a painful way, but I am at a bigger place of acceptance now. I feel more ready for the next 365 days, for the next relationship. Like the mulch of the past year will grow something beautiful one day. And all that I have learned, career and, everything-wise, because I quit my job... I mean, really. I don't even know where to start with that. I am working harder than ever, and finally have the space to expand creatively. Space is priceless.

As for my grandma, the grieving now is softer and more gentle, but just as deep. One thought and there are tears in my eyes. I'm not sure this will ever change, and that's ok, and I'm not sure I want this to change.

365 days later. There is an upswing, there sure is. If I could go back, I would say to myself, make your decisions. It won't be easy, but you will see it through, and it will lead you to where you need to be.

one for the road

the pavement is everywhere in the city. it seems to be static- it is not a growing living thing like grass, but if you have ever lived anywhere with paved roads, you know that is not true. It expands and shrinks- crumbles and is torn apart and put back together, patched. It's the bottom- the least- the common denominator- the base of a city. It's spat on, peed on, thrown up on, spilled on, swept and cleaned and takes it all over again. The heat absorbs into the pavement and rises up, making the city waver in the light. The ice coats the pavement and turns the city to an obstacle course. it is the common, the normal, the least.

my feet pound the pavement- literally. the city's rhythm jolts up my legs and sets it's pace in my heart. i match  my breathing to the movement of my feet and even the tiny cilia in my ears tremble with the pace. my every molecule orbits with the city, around it, through it, and because of it. i am in tune; i am the city; the city is in me. the pavement is my base. my lowest denominator. and i pound it every chance i get. it pounds me back and we force each other to change, to crumble, be built back up, to be dirtied, and to be cleaned again. the pavement in summer is heat and steam. in summer, i am heat and steam. the crash and clash of our molecules weave our destinies, the push and friction propel us forward, hold us in place, and compel us to move.

sweat drips down my neck, my back, my legs. i push; it pushes back. the exertion is cleansing. i reach the lake, and realize it too is a part of me. the endless blue is in my mind, is the backdrop and the main character, the holder of my tears; it is my tears. i cry the lake. i rejoice the lake. i frolic and swim and laugh and move like the water of the lake, in the lake. but i am also afraid of the lake- it's depths, being consumed by it all at once, what may lurk underneath. as i ran tonight, i had this thought- how can i be afraid of something that i love so much, that is a part of me? how can i be so afraid to jump straight down into the water, to let the waves wash over my head? when this lake is such a part of me? but that is how i am. i am afraid of what is inside of me; i am afraid of the lake. i am afraid of letting go of the pavement, the lowest, the common. i am afraid of what comes next, when there is nothing under my feet to pound against. i am afraid of leaping straight down, because what if i never stop falling, what if i never learn to fly, what if i was never meant to leap at all?

i pound against the pavement; the friction holds me in place. the lowest, the common, it holds me steady. i pound it relentlessly.

one day it will give way.

without calculation

this is where we differed, he and I
the caring of things
of people
I didn't think you should put a limit on caring for people
it's not an equation
if it were, the balance rarely evens out
but then, my burns in life had been first degree-
his went to the core-
for him it was an equation, an equal giving and receiving-
an always worrying who was ahead, who behind.
he had been burnt.

but caring without calculating for him taught me
that caring doesn't drain you or leave you empty,
the burns heal. it
doesn't destroy you when it's not returned
doesn't waste your time when it doesn't lead to forever
and the scariness and risk of it fades when you practice it-
caring fills you
carries you
and leaves you more whole, stronger,
practiced
to care for someone
else.

the equation of our stances [of our positions on caring]
between us was too great
the remainder was much to bear
we snapped under the difference
and became singular
and
he will go on calculating
living alone in his equations
i will go on risking
caring without calculating
my heart open wide,
giving everything
losing nothing
gaining everything.
back into the unknown.

inspiration

One of the artist blogs I follow is offering this amazing class!
http://www.umberdove.com/2013/05/huge-horizons-give-way-and-all-new-true.html
Check it out here.

This comes at the perfect time in my life, as I have felt so far away from inspiration, even though i have had so much time this year to create. I need to recenter, to find the reasons I do the career that I do... and I hope this class helps!

on dreams, then

i don't think

that one should ever crush or criticize a dream.


i don't think

that unrealistic dreams cannot lead to somewhere more realistic

that crushed dreams don't build character

that reaching too far doesn't teach it's own lessons.

that life should be mitigated by only what is attainable.


i don't think

that realism has much of a place in dreaming.

that realism will avoid finding a way to tether the dream when the time comes

that i am, or you are, the one to provide that realism.

that practicality and logistics make much sense in a dream.


i think

that if you crush dreams, if you are skeptical, that if you breathe a word against ability, that if you are tethered to reason constantly, that if you can't shed the physics of this earth from time to time to dream,

that you should never speak to me.


i think

that the world is full of endless possibilities

that those who believe in these possibilities are the ones that gain from them

that this viewpoint is a daily choice

that the path taken down an impractical road can shape a life.



and lastly
i think that you were
not the
one
for
me.

accepting the unacceptable

when the rain comes, and it all pours down, and you're left with mud slick on your boots, with wet hair in your eyes, and a heavy fog in the air around you. with each slippery step try to discern where the hope could be in the fog, could possibly be. in the midst of all the unacceptable. what is there to hold on to? what is solid, after all?

did i know this would come? all along?

There are unacceptable things which I must learn to accept. deaths, disappointments, failures, and this relationship coming to an end. this relationship ending. this relationship ended. unacceptable. accept it. this will not weigh me down forever. time will do its thing, will move forward, and carry my shaky body with it, my anguished mind. and time will carry me into a better place, a better mind, a better being. and i will accept it. eventually. in small parts. in tiny fragments. in forgotten memories. in discarded gifts. in deleted emails. deleted phone number. deleted relationship. and the mud slick on my boots will be washed clean. and i will walk on. accept it.

bittersweet, these things.

And then there are the unacceptable things that can and should never be accepted... all around us. a 10 year old girl was beat up 2 blocks from my apt for crossing the street into gang territory. a man was shot 10 blocks from my apt in the middle of the day while going to the store. bombs in my beloved Boston, in OUR beloved Boston. the gentle academic city that i thought was a dream come true, where all my most important firsts happened. now blood on the streets. memorials, a part of the city forever. unacceptable.

someone clean up this city! someone make it right! I can't accept Chicago to go down like this, Old Town to disappear and to ring with gunshots. I refuse to accept it and i will do all i can to stop it. this is not how it should be. and it tears me apart.

the sun sets on the city, and covers our shame in strokes of gold. the lake shimmers in the sunrise, and hope grows all around us. we will be ok. we will see this night through to daylight. hold on.

figuring it out

This freelancing thing has been hard.

But each day I'm learning more and more how to adapt, how to control my time and my drive, what anxieties to let fall and what anxieties to pay attention to, and try to fix. To fight the loneliness of finding myself suddenly without coworkers or classmates, I find myself going for walks with a friend that works nearby on lunch, eating lunch with another friend, skyping more with my sister, talking to myself, starting up dance classes again, and organizing more social activities with my friends, and taking up more offers to go out. I want to add journaling every day to this list. I actually, for the first time since working full time and commuting so far, find myself craving social interaction. My mood has definitely improved. I am doing more interesting projects, and have even thrown a few pots.

But the structure, the attempt to get things done, or completed... this is hard. And if I just watch Syfy episodes all day and don't get anything done, the guilt at the end of the day is overwhelming and depressing. I hit a self-motivation low around the end of February, and since then have done ok at dragging myself out of the non-productive hole, completing a few projects helped. It's still hard to get a full day's work in, and I have a lot to learn.

But I like this. I like taking on projects. I like the opportunity to do my art and if I could just learn to discipline myself better, I think I could be really successful. I haven't done any art for myself in so long, and coming back to it is rusty and slow, but the muse is whispering, and soon she will be shouting and I won't be able to deny her request.

whisper on, muse.

heavy

heavy like a thousand oak trees, standing firm on the earth
heavy like an anchor tied to my feet, drop me in deep water
heavy like thoughts that swirl and cloud and muffle
heavy like rationale that destroys faith, knowledge that steals joy,
heavy like the burden of all that is yet to be done, all the time still to live
heavy like a hard relationship, a hard situation, a hard choice
heavy like having to let go
heavy like being vulnerable
bleeding out vulnerable
heavy like my heart.

moved...moving

So, I've created a new blog to showcase my artwork- my projects i'm working on, inspiration i find, etc. You can find it here: http://www.signedbyheidi.com/blog/

please visit!

I will keep writing more personal thoughts here, life reflections, but it will probably be more sparse than it's been in the past.

I've also started and plan on keeping up my etsy store which is found here:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/signedbyheidi

Right now I have some jewelry up, and I hope to add to it until all of my jewelry inventory (which I started selling in 2010) is gone. Then I will add ceramics, and illustrations and prints and the odd sculpture here and there once I get that going. But first, the jewelry needs to be sold! Tell your friends.

And, give me feedback, on prices, designs, what works, what doesn't. I'm open!

Alright everyone have a lovely Valentine's Day.

on the murders in Chicago

Really, Chicago, really?

I have half a mind to leave this city for good.

double time now

 

the seasons at this time of the year go from summer to winter very quickly- 80 degrees in the morning, 30 at night in one day, and then here we are, in the 40s, 50s, light jackets, gloves, scarves.

I find myself putting on socks more often.

this quick change of seasons is also reflected in my life. after months of waiting, years, things are moving, moving quickly now, double time. gasp to catch up and relax in the momentum, letting it carry me to the end of the year. I took on another full time job, working after my full time job medical sculpting, 5 mins down the road to a Christmas ornament shop, personalizing ornaments until 10pm. and then again for 10 hours on Saturday. for 6 weeks. rock climbing classes on Friday. Still the long commute. But if i hustle now, Jan 1st, when I START FREELANCING (oh happy day!) I will be in much better financial shape. And freelancing, working from home, oh what joy that gives my heart to not have to sit in a car for so long, wasting so much of my life. this year has been absolutely horrendous in that regard, absolutely. I will probably even get a rid of my car end of January, as I have not enjoyed it very much. I prefer biking, really. there's nothing like exerting yourself to get to a place. and that constant exercise... nothing better for my whole being.

amidst the hustle, if there is a silence, a moment to myself, it takes only a thought and i am crying wholly for my grandma. I do not like the thought of Christmas and Thanksgiving without her, I do not like it one bit.

 double time now, gotta hustle.

just this

I went to a YoYoMa concert last Friday (glorious artist that he is!) and the last piece was this one, and its too incredible not to share with anyone who can hear. do have a listen:

she said she said

we knew, my mom, dad, brother and i, when we walked into the house that it was for final goodbyes. final. something you don't think about until you absolutely need to- and then, then it really is the times for lasts, for goodbye. the time when you can't avoid it any longer. and it hits you, and the wind leaves you, and you

pause

and feel. and then walk into her room, where she is so tiny, and her body is a shell, the strong muscles and fat melted away, lost and dissolved and what i left is the raw and the essence- the broad smile and strong grip on your arm. and for a moment you're terribly afraid when you imagine life without her, but she is not gone yet and she speaks

she tells you she wants to wear the necklace you bought her a lifetime ago in London, the one she wore so proudly and you picked out so quickly and she wants to wear it in her casket, and wants you to have it before she's buried. and she tells you to take a picture hanging on her bedroom wall, and anything else you want. and you apologize for never taking her to Vegas. and even though you know you'll see her again, even though you know

even though you know

this life on earth is the only frame of reference you have. and you ask her if shes scared. and she says no. and you know that's not the full truth. she says shes going to a better place and she cant wait. and you know that's the full truth.

and then she makes a joke and you both laugh, because that is what you do together, you laugh. you poked fun at family members, strangers, each other. you were sarcastic and never took offense, and you bore each other's pain in your small ways, because that is what you do when you are family.

and she said, she said i love you.

and i wonder why i'm not crying, why i feel relief that her wish will finally come true, and that she won't have to stay here in this body anymore with so much pain. but i know i will feel the loss, and it will come when it's ready, when it's time, and the grief will flow and i will ride it's eddies out to the soul-lake where it will merge with other rivers and tributaries of emotion and experience and become part of my being.

and some days the river of grief is still and silent, waiting. and some days it is turbulent and forces you to the bottom where the rocks bash your body and leave invisible bruises. and you wish with all your heart that she is still here. that i could just call her. just once more. but you can't.

so you feel deep.

and you dry your tears.

and this is what you do.

and forward, despite

i find myself in tears nearly every night this week: sporting events make me cry. the Olympics, especially. and every day this week i've come home from work and turned on the Olympics, and watched people fulfill their life dreams, or not, and either way it's terribly moving and i always end up with a wet face.

and then there's the spare moments when i remember my grandma, and the fact that she's gone, and the last moments we had. and i think that the grief is finally moving in, making a home, and will probably stay awhile, until it is time for it to go again. and the tears trace their well worn path and leave me with a wet face, again.

and then there's songs like this. that could make me cry on the happiest day of my life.

i let the tears fall and the emotions roll. i let them move me to do things i otherwise wouldn't; to push send on an honest email, to spend an evening alone at the lake in the sand and take the long way home through the forests, to slow down. to take each moment and hold it a moment longer, examine it a bit more, and despite the allness of it all, to try again.

yours til Niagara falls

you're on my mind

by which Light I see everything else

lately, the topic of priorities have loomed in my life. large events that have me moving through this time, moving through this space, asking myself large questions, making large decisions, making time for large introspections.

i'm going deeper. asking hard questions of those around me. wanting answers that go beyond the now and into eternity. i'm no longer asking what it is all for, that question can only be answered in scraps and fragments of truth. i'm not asking why this is happening to me, that question only tears and shreds confidence. i'm not wondering what is next, because it no longer matters. Now is what matters. This instance. These words. These actions. This time; now.

now, when, i said goodbye, for a time, to my grandma. i am so thankful to have had 30 years of time with her. so thankful that I was able to spend these past 4 years, past few months, living and working in a city close to home so that i could visit her more frequently, and really get to know her. to be able to travel with her to family events over the years, and as my siblings got married and have children, to remain single and be able to spend that time with her, instead of with a spouse or child. to get the chance to stand with family and friends and commit her to the earth from which she was made. to cry, wholly and freely, unabashedly, in front of strangers, unashamed for the emotion i was showing- to be vulnerable enough to feel this grief at it's full.

there is so much to write about this recent happening, so many things i have learned in the past week, so many challenges met and conquered. how do you have a conversation with someone, knowing it will be the last? how do you see your family cry for the loss? what advice do you give when questions are asked about whether that last trip should be made? these things aren't easy. not easy at all.

in the light of these things, all selfish, fearful, and small things fall away; perspective is regained. courage is found in loss. purpose is found in knowing you will go the same path, one day. confidence is found in knowing there will always be others who will catch you in your grief.

and so in this light, the Light of all eternity, i move on; we move on, furiously beating our hearts and feverishly pumping our blood, colliding like the molecules that make us- living, now.

never mind, i'll be fine

clean

And after the storm
I run and run as the rains come

And now I cling to what I knew
I saw exactly what was true 

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears 
And love will not break your heart but dismiss your fears 

Get over your hill and see what you find there 

With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair


mumford and sons

onward

this is it: the beginning of the rest of the half of this year.

i find myself in an odd place- the first half of the year was tumultuous. event after event, cars, boys, work, art, medical issues, sports, fights and reconciliations, funerals, trips and travel- really, almost ridiculous what was all packed into the first 6 months of this year.

and now, breath.

i find myself without a major project for maybe the first time in my life. website just needs some tweaking, but otherwise, i am all caught up. i knew this day would come, now i just don't know what to do with it.

i guess set new goals for the rest of the year. So here they are:

1. Get back in the ceramic studio.
2. Get out of credit debt, once and for all.
3. Take more rock climbing classes.
4. Learn French learn french learn french...
5. Get a new job.

That's it. That's really it. If I could accomplish all that by the end of this year....