Monday, February 23, 2015

"Rise and Fall"

Rise And Fall 

Let me share with you a cautionary tale
That starts out good but don’t end well
Every word is true
Take a dreamer’s heart, remove all sense
Make the pressure so intense
And that boy is through
And ooooooh – so high up and down so far
Yeah ooooooh – the rise and fall of a star

He came from a tiny little town
No stop lights for miles around
And options were few
But he had a dream and he had a voice
And when it came time to make a choice
He knew what to do
And ooooooh – so high up and down so far
Yeah ooooooh – the rise and fall of a star

From a cover band to an opening gig
To a headline show and his name on a rig
He was on fire
From “who is that guy” to top of the charts
Newcomer to big name, he played all the parts
He walked the wire
And ooooooh – so high up and down so far
Yeah ooooooh – the rise and fall of a star

It was such crazy place to be
A megastar of stage and TV
Yet he was afraid
He had everything and each kind of sin
He had all that but not one real friend
The price he paid
And ooooooh – so high up and down so far
Yeah ooooooh – the rise and fall of a star

For some folks it’s a slow decline
But his crash came in record time
He lost it all
A painful mix of anger and booze
A super star no one would refuse
Death came to call
And ooooooh – so high up and down so far
Yeah ooooooh – the rise and fall of a star

He left this world in a heartbreaking way
And folks lined up to have their say
“We loved him so”
But where were they when he needed someone?
When his life unraveled and all came undone?
We’ll never know
And ooooooh – so high up and down so far
Yeah ooooooh – the rise and fall of a star

If there’s one single lesson in all of this
It’s beware of the green grass and its bliss
It isn’t real
Know who you are and what you want
Beware of the sparkle that others flaunt
And know the deal
And ooooooh – so high up and down so far
Yeah ooooooh – the rise and fall of a star

And ooooooh – so high up and down so far
Yeah ooooooh – the rise and fall of a star





(Originally posted to Runner12.com and inspired by the new Gretchen Peters release, Blackbirds, along with her previous release, Hello Cruel World. I started with the title track, "Hello, Cruel World." It's an amazing song that really can't be improved, so not sure why I decided to add my own spin on it. But I did.)

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

52 Weeks of Art - Week 07 "Twins"

The Twins


I met two men that changed my life
In ways I could not see
I met them both at the same time
And they both wanted me

To tell the truth, it flattered me
Getting their attention
They would pursue and I was the
Object of affection

While two of us were hand in glove
The one shared only pain
The very best and worst of love
That brought me pride and shame

For one man had the kindest heart
Open and welcoming
He offered romance from the start
His light was beckoning

The other man was dark inside
Pain and anger the goal
It seemed no matter how I tried
That poison filled his soul

Back and forth and around we’d go
Always me caught between
The love he felt, the hate he’d show
The two were such extremes

I was the fool who truly thought
That love would save the day
But peace was what I truly sought
And finally walked away

The memories are all a part
Of love and joy and pain
The good was a song in my heart
The bad? Constant refrain

They nearly tore me all apart
These twins that I once knew
I loved both men with all my heart
And both of them were you



(Entry for week seven of my 52 Weeks of Art challenge)

Saturday, January 31, 2015

52 Weeks of Art - Week 05 "Flight"

As I've mentioned before, I am part of a group of artists committed to creating something new each week for the entire year. This week's theme is "Flight," and a friend created this amazing drawing.

"Flight" (shared with permission of the artist, Debi Dempsey)

I can't explain why, exactly, but I was immediately inspired by this picture. And this is what I wrote:


The Adventures of Fiona

Fiona, child of Mullaghmore
Too short, too plain, too rounded
Had dreams that she would leave the shore
In truth, though, she was grounded

For she was born the serving class
To tend and care for others
And she would be just one more lass
Turned into wives and mothers

There was so much she longed to do
And places she longed to see
But kept so busy all day through
Traveling was not to be

And still the thoughts raced ‘round her mind
Every day when she awoke
“I will leave this place behind”
Was whispered, but never spoke

‘Twas fifteen klicks to Binn Ghulbain
Might just as well been eighty
For everyone around her said
That’s no place for a lady

And so she longed to see that hill
Mountains that were so well known
"Forget it, girl, you never will,
Not now, not when old and grown."

She thought that this would be the way
Day in, day out, would remain
Until the stars aligned one day
And all in her world would change 

It started when she said a prayer
Aloud and of a fashion
“Gods and faeries, if you are there,
You know my heart’s true passion”

“I cannot stay long in this place
I cannot live and die here
The mountain dream’s what I must chase
And I so want to fly there.”

That night, like all the rest, she slept
But the faeries toiled and schemed
They took all the tears she had wept
And turned them into her dreams

She felt, at first, the wind rush by
The she heard a lone bird sing
In disbelief, opened her eyes
And she gazed upon her wings

They were beautiful, wide and strong
But to her touch, they were soft
And as they carried her along
Their strength kept her aloft

She traveled cross the open sky
Convinced she had lost her mind
She did not know the how or why
But her dreams were hers to find

Committed now and moving fast
Behold the sounds and the sight
No looking back, she left her past
Fiona, a girl in flight

Friday, January 23, 2015

Words From My Novel

"It was just like him, to consume my every thought yet not have a clue."

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

52 Weeks of Art - Week 03 "Paddock"

Three Horses

Three horses, on a hill
Ran back and forth and round until
Their world became a bigger place
And now across the fields they race

Three horses, daily stood
Contained, constrained by walls of wood
Each day the same, nothing was new
Until the winter cold blew through

Three horses, then one gone
A soul that pure could not go on
So gentle, calm, its heart so true
Touched by the evil others do

Two horses, as they do
Would run and play the whole day through
The colt was strong, its spirit bold
But flesh was weak and failed to hold

One horse, stood all alone
Angry and bitter to the bone
One day he stumbled and he fell
Not sad at all, was just as well

Three horses, once were there
With shiny coats and golden hair
But all things change and nothing lasts
This paddock and ghosts of the past



Wednesday, January 7, 2015

52 Weeks of Art - Week 02 "Flesh"

Flesh

I hear them. They’re all talking at once, it seems. Some talking about me, others talking across me. But no one is talking TO me. It’s as if I’ve become invisible. No, that’s not right. I’m not invisible. No body that looks like mine is invisible. I’m more the stuff of nightmares.

Have you ever seen a burn victim up close? It’s bad. And the skin never really heals. No matter how many grafts and surgeries and treatments, the flesh is always a little different. And there’s no hiding it. So I sit here, not invisible but not really seen at all. I think it just hurts everyone too much, so they look away, up or down… anywhere but at these wounds.

It’s not a surprise, really. It’s been months. But you’d think I’d at least merit a hello or how are you today. Nope. The best I get these days is the ever-so-annoying monologue of my cousin Ellen’s morning pity parties.

“Everyone’s pretending they don’t want anything, but I know better. It will be just like with my own mother. No one cared enough to come by, but they were right there with their greedy hands outstretched for her jewelry. And who is Sarah, anyway? She’s not even family, she just married in. Why Tom thought she should have Mom’s gold and emerald brooch is beyond me.”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

She doesn’t hear me, though. No one does, anymore. I’m silent, the only sounds in the room the steady beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor.

I wasn’t always like this, of course. There was a time when I was normal. Hell, I was better than normal. Everything about me was strong and powerful. And I liked it. I was tall and handsome, and the ladies liked me. Heck, some of the guys liked me, too. And I ate it up. Not gonna lie, it was a damn thrill to know that people wanted me. Who doesn’t love Marines, danger, and tattoos, right?

Tattoos. I’d almost forgotten about those. I remember them all, from my very first Eagle, Globe and Anchor to the last one I got when I was home on leave, a memorial to my fallen buddies. They all mattered and they all meant something. They were the story of my life, bright and dark and a part of my flesh forever. Supposed to be, anyway.

Of course, all of my ink is long gone, left on the ground when the flames melted the skin from my bones in a shithole village halfway around the world. Not exactly something my battle buddies could pack up and ship home to me, you know? And there’s nowhere on this body now that isn’t already marked in some way by the fire. There will be no more ink for this guy.

So I’m stuck here in a body that looks nothing like the me I knew. And what’s left of me is beginning to fade, too. I’m barely aware of the days passing into night. And to be honest, I’m not sure if I’ll see another sunrise. Each day, I feel less and less tethered to this flesh and bone. I don’t know, maybe this how it all ends somehow.

…..
…..

I hear the beeping again. That damn heart monitor. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Wait. There’s something different. There’s two different monitors. One is the same slow steady beep, but the other one is much faster. And there’s energy in the room. So much motion and everyone’s talking at the same time and what’s with all the people in this room?

I feel different. I don’t know what’s happening, exactly, but I feel… different. I feel light, so damn light. It’s like every part of my body is free, somehow. I’m moving. Holy crap, I can move again. My arms, my legs. It’s like everything works again.

Whoa. My fingers look so small. What happened? How did my toes get so damn tiny? And my flesh… it’s… all… so damn pink. And I’m chubby. Somehow I’m fat and small and what the hell is all of this?

I don’t understand. What is going on? I was just laying in my bed, drifting off again. And now, I’m tiny and shiny and new and…

…..
…..


“Mr. Allen, would you like to hold your son now?”

Nervous, the man barely stammers out a yes and holds out his arms.

“Relax, Daddy. You’ll be just fine.”

Je Suis Charlie.

#JeSuisCharlie

It means "I am Charlie," and it shows that we all stand in solidarity with the artists, editors, and staff of Charlie Hebdo.

I share these images on my blog because I value the freedoms of speech and expression.





Monday, January 5, 2015

52 Weeks of Art - Week 01 "Winter"

Winter Kills.
It’s true. Every good thing I ever had and loved has ended in winter. Different reasons, sure. But the timing is always the same.
It’s as if the cold days steal away every bit of warmth and the long, dark nights extinguish any glow of light. And it’s just me at the end, now numb to the inevitable loss.
There was a time… before… when I believed in happy-ever-after. I loved him then. The days were drenched by the sun and loud with laughter. Even the nights were alive with starlight and the glow of the moon. All around us felt eternal and abundant, the very ground we stood on teaming with life. It was an obscenity of riches, and I was so steeped in it I was unaware that any other reality could exist.
But winter comes with its own certainty. And I am powerless to do anything but observe as dreams crash, hope crumbles, and darkness closes in.
And the song. Always the song. The same one I’ve heard since I was a child.
Pain
In your eyes
Makes me cruel
Makes me spiteful
Tears are delightful
Welcome your nightfall
How winter kills
I tear at you, searching for weak seams
And it finds them.

Monday, December 29, 2014

More Passion. Less Judgement.

My always-worth-knowing friend and Marine Brother, Jeremy, shared this picture today and I can't get it out of my mind.


After kicking it around for a bit, I realized that it bothers me for two different reasons. One, because I've been told this more times in my life than I can even remember. Two, and this bothers me even more, because I have likely acted like this to someone along the way. And now, I'm the reason they slip back into "sorry" mode when discussing their passions.

I can't go back and change what I have said and done in the past, but I can make every effort to never repeat that mistake.

I'm listening. And I will make every effort to keep listening, to make sure that you know that I may not share your passion for something, but I will absolutely encourage YOU to be as passionate and loud and vocal and excited about whatever it is that makes your pulse race and your heart soar.

Because the world needs more passion, encouraged and nurtured and supported. 

Thursday, December 18, 2014

"This Is My Depression."

de·pres·sion

 noun \di-ˈpre-shÉ™n, dÄ“-\
: a state of feeling sad
: a serious medical condition in which a person feels very sad, hopeless, and unimportant and often is unable to live in a normal way

It sounds simple enough. Depression is the state of feeling sad. But that doesn't begin to explain it. Depression is so much more. And this is my depression.


It's subtle in the beginning, like a shadow appearing just out of the corner of my eye. I have a vague awareness that I'm off, somehow, but it's nothing concrete. I just don't feel like myself, exactly. And this may last an hour or a week. There's never any consistency to it. And there's no obvious trigger, either. It can come after a great experience, a horrible loss, or nothing memorable at all.

The next stage is much more noticeable, to me and to other people. I become easily irritated, snapping at everyone around me for no reason at all. Interruptions, changes to plans, even simple requests bother me. I know my reactions are unreasonable, but that isn't enough to snap me out of my mood. It's like watching a slow-motion car crash but being unable to do anything about it.

And then, it's on me. Completely. Perhaps I'm driving my car home from work. Maybe I'm sitting watching television. I might be in the middle of a long run somewhere. Or even surrounded by a group of friends.

It's difficult to describe the darkness that envelops me. It distorts everything. It changes the way I interact with everyone. And the worst thing of all, it separates me from the very people who are best able to help me fight it.

I feel alone. I feel like a failure. And I feel like a fraud. The more people reach out to me, the more I want to pull away.

"If they only knew who I really am, they'd be gone."
"They're all connected and I've never been part of that group, not really."
"I know they talk about me when I'm not around. I know they judge me."

Depression is wicked that way. It plays on every insecurity, every weakness. It takes a small sliver of doubt and turns it into a wall I can't get around. And I do what I can to silence all of those voices, drinking too much, sleeping all day, or busying my mind with nonsense. Whatever it takes to shut the negative off.

I respond physically, too. I stop running. I stop exercising at all. It all seems pointless and I have no energy, anyway, so why bother? Instead, I became sluggish and lethargic, my body matching my mood.

The spiral effect is horrific. Emotionally, I feel like I am all alone, so I don't want to connect with friends. I don't connect with friends, so I feel like I'm all alone. Physically, I have no energy so I don't workout. I don't workout, so I have no energy. Both of these things fuel themselves. And they become never ending cycles.

Sooner or later, this all passes. Like a storm cloud, it remains just long enough to make its presence known, and then it's gone. But the damage remains. And each round, it gets harder and harder to make amends with friends, get back on my workout schedule, and fully recover emotionally.

I do it, though. I fight my way back each time. I make a plan to get back on track with healthy eating and working out, and that helps. I create long-term goals and short-term strategies to reach them. And I reach back out to one friend at a time, sometimes explaining what has been going on and other times just putting it behind me. But connecting pulls me back into my life. Because the only alternative is to give up, to give in to the depression. And that's a step too far for me.

So why write all of this up? What is the point of sharing all of this with everyone?

Because writing it all down and posting it may help other people understand what I am going through. Maybe they'll be able to help others in the same situation. Heck, maybe other people experiencing the same dark moments will feel better knowing they aren't alone.

Mostly, though, I share it to remind myself that dark days are not the end of the line. There is an other side to this, and I just have to keep moving forward to get to it.

There isn't anything rationale or reasonable about depression. It is brutal, powerful, and sometimes overwhelming. But it isn't fatal as long as I see it for what it is, a temporary problem that I will survive.

For those reading along who struggle with the same feelings, I encourage you to speak up yourself. Tell your loved ones what is happening. The more they know and understand, the more likely they will be to recognize the symptoms and be there to help you through your own dark moments.

If it all feels like too much, and you don't trust yourself to find a way through, reach out for help. There are hotlines. There are volunteers. There are family members and friends. There IS someone out there who knows what you are dealing with and can help you find your way through it.

Suicide is preventable. Call. Text. Speak up. Shout and scream if you must, just don't give up or give in.

You matter. You are loved. And we need you to stay.




(Originally posted at Runner12.com.)

This Is My Depression.

de·pres·sion

 noun \di-ˈpre-shÉ™n, dÄ“-\
: a state of feeling sad
: a serious medical condition in which a person feels very sad, hopeless, and unimportant and often is unable to live in a normal way

It sounds simple enough. Depression is the state of feeling sad. But that doesn't begin to explain it. Depression is so much more. And this is my depression.


It's subtle in the beginning, like a shadow appearing just out of the corner of my eye. I have a vague awareness that I'm off, somehow, but it's nothing concrete. I just don't feel like myself, exactly. And this may last an hour or a week. There's never any consistency to it. And there's no obvious trigger, either. It can come after a great experience, a horrible loss, or nothing memorable at all.

The next stage is much more noticeable, to me and to other people. I become easily irritated, snapping at everyone around me for no reason at all. Interruptions, changes to plans, even simple requests bother me. I know my reactions are unreasonable, but that isn't enough to snap me out of my mood. It's like watching a slow-motion car crash but being unable to do anything about it.

And then, it's on me. Completely. Perhaps I'm driving my car home from work. Maybe I'm sitting watching television. I might be in the middle of a long run somewhere. Or even surrounded by a group of friends.

It's difficult to describe the darkness that envelops me. It distorts everything. It changes the way I interact with everyone. And the worst thing of all, it separates me from the very people who are best able to help me fight it.

I feel alone. I feel like a failure. And I feel like a fraud. The more people reach out to me, the more I want to pull away.

"If they only knew who I really am, they'd be gone."
"They're all connected and I've never been part of that group, not really."
"I know they talk about me when I'm not around. I know they judge me."

Depression is wicked that way. It plays on every insecurity, every weakness. It takes a small sliver of doubt and turns it into a wall I can't get around. And I do what I can to silence all of those voices, drinking too much, sleeping all day, or busying my mind with nonsense. Whatever it takes to shut the negative off.

I respond physically, too. I stop running. I stop exercising at all. It all seems pointless and I have no energy, anyway, so why bother? Instead, I became sluggish and lethargic, my body matching my mood.

The spiral effect is horrific. Emotionally, I feel like I am all alone, so I don't want to connect with friends. I don't connect with friends, so I feel like I'm all alone. Physically, I have no energy so I don't workout. I don't workout, so I have no energy. Both of these things fuel themselves. And they become never ending cycles.

Sooner or later, this all passes. Like a storm cloud, it remains just long enough to make its presence known, and then it's gone. But the damage remains. And each round, it gets harder and harder to make amends with friends, get back on my workout schedule, and fully recover emotionally.

I do it, though. I fight my way back each time. I make a plan to get back on track with healthy eating and working out, and that helps. I create long-term goals and short-term strategies to reach them. And I reach back out to one friend at a time, sometimes explaining what has been going on and other times just putting it behind me. But connecting pulls me back into my life. Because the only alternative is to give up, to give in to the depression. And that's a step too far for me.

So why write all of this up? What is the point of sharing all of this with everyone?

Because writing it all down and posting it may help other people understand what I am going through. Maybe they'll be able to help others in the same situation. Heck, maybe other people experiencing the same dark moments will feel better knowing they aren't alone.

Mostly, though, I share it to remind myself that dark days are not the end of the line. There is an other side to this, and I just have to keep moving forward to get to it.

There isn't anything rationale or reasonable about depression. It is brutal, powerful, and sometimes overwhelming. But it isn't fatal as long as I see it for what it is, a temporary problem that I will survive.

For those reading along who struggle with the same feelings, I encourage you to speak up yourself. Tell your loved ones what is happening. The more they know and understand, the more likely they will be to recognize the symptoms and be there to help you through your own dark moments.

If it all feels like too much, and you don't trust yourself to find a way through, reach out for help. There are hotlines. There are volunteers. There are family members and friends. There IS someone out there who knows what you are dealing with and can help you find your way through it.

Suicide is preventable. Call. Text. Speak up. Shout and scream if you must, just don't give up or give in.

You matter. You are loved. And we need you to stay.


Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Shout Out To Sixty Amazing Years of Ric!

Sixty years ago, the world got a whole lot better. And if you have been lucky enough to meet this guy, you already know what I'm saying here.

I have no idea what I did to deserve this man in my life, but I'm grateful every day that he is my husband.

Happy Birthday, Ric. You deserve every wonderful moment you have coming today!

 

 
 

 

"When You Are Old" - cover by Eric Himan