All good things must come to an end…

After such a long hiatus, I feel like I owe an explanation to anyone who has hung around long enough for me to post again. I will start by saying that all is basically well in my world.

I am in a really good place physically and mentally, in spite of the fact that this year has been a bit of a shitstorm for me. Three flat tires, two car accidents and a complex fracture for Max – and those are just the highlights. But I handled it all with incredible grace and maturity. Yup. Right after I threw numerous temper tantrums, had myself a massive pity party, and bitched to anyone who would listen. Let’s just say, the swear jar is full. I don’t handle these things well at all.

So, you’re welcome, readers. I spared you. 

But I still haven‘t explained where I’ve been, have I? I have been trying to answer these questions: What’s next? Is this really all there is? Why am I so restless? What do I want to say? Do I have anything left to say? And if so, is this where I want to say it?

So I have been pouring my thoughts and feelings into a private journal, because so much of it is just the noise in my head, and it’s just too messy for public consumption. 

I am thinking that this blog may have run its course and served its purpose. That and the fact that my blog URL is saddled with my married name, and that just continues to bug the crap out of me. But it’s also that I think a blog deserves time and attention, and this year in particular, I’ve really neglected it.

So I am going to give this some thought, and regroup. I have some other online projects in the works, and I may move over to Wordpress, with a new name. If and when that happens, I will let you know.

PS – to those faithful few who have continued to show up for my inconsistent posts, I thank you. I am so grateful for the positive aspects of technology, that connect us through our art and our stories. Xo Love, Kerri 

Gatherer.

I have been compelled lately for reasons unbeknownst to me, to gather sticks. I have no idea why, or what I will use them for, although most certainly they will become part of some kind of art project in the not too distant future. All I know is that when I see just the right ones, I must have them.  

The sticks I gather have to have certain qualities. They must be fairly straight, with all of the bark having fallen away so that they are smooth, resembling bones. In order for the bark to fall away,  Mother Nature has to have had her way with them first, and so most of them are broken to about 12 inches or less, some have been bleached by the sun, and others have tiny grooves carved out by termites into insect hieroglyphics. They lay like an offering under the ancient trees at the historic cemetery where I walk with Max, and I can't resist them. 

I think many of us are drawn to nature and to natural elements. I know that the older I get, the more I appreciate the natural beauty that surrounds us, and the more time I want to spend taking it all in - both figuratively and literally. 

Little Illo

All the best things...

… in life are not things. 

A refreshing change of topic

For those who know her story, you know this is the sweet face of a fierce fighter. She just donated twelve inches of hair to locks of love. Here she is, looking so grown up. She’ll be 12 in April, possessing not only a strong heart, but a sweet soul, and a fierce sense of humor…

My niece, my inspiration… Avery

 

Doodle time

Stress relief

How do you let off steam? Sometimes swearing works for me, and I am frighteningly good at it. Exercise is good, and more socially acceptable. I love just walking outside. Nature is a balm for just about everything, I think (well except when there’s a minus ten-degree wind chill, but generally).

But one of my favorite and less conventional methods of stress reduction is to rearrange my furniture. I rearranged my entire living room last night. I find giving a room a free face lift is so much fun, and in my tiny house, a bit of a creative challenge. It also helps me to bear living with my 1990s yucko furniture for a bit longer.

I used to drive my ex crazy when I’d do this, but my current roommate is pretty cool with it. Dogs are like that.

I forgot to take a “before” picture, but this is the “after.”

What is your worth?

So here is one that I am struggling with. Self worth. 

No worries. Right now, I think I’m great.

But here’s the thing. I think I’m great because I am proud of the path that I’ve been on lately. Because I am making art and staying sober and being attentive to my family and friends and keeping my house moderately kinda clean. Because I judge myself constantly, (and others, by the way – even though this is a big no-no), and when I am not doing the things that make me proud, I feel pretty crappy about myself. And when I am following my true path and meeting my own expectations, I feel good. To me, that makes sense. It’s how I was raised. 

I still remember when I would come home with my report card as a kid. I was a decent student, but I have some willful and lazy tendencies toward doing things I don’t love, so my grades in math and science would inevitably dip by the third quarter, when I was just tired of showing up. And my dad would never get angry. He would just say, “if you did your best, and all you could get is a C,” then I am proud of you.” Yeah, I know. My dad is a very clever guy. Instead of feeling good about getting off without punishment for bringing home a “C,” I’d feel terrible because I knew that I hadn’t done my best. 

But I keep reading in all of the feel-goody, new-agey articles out there that we have worth simply because we are. Not because of what we do. That our value isn’t tied to our deeds. 

And while I may be able to forgive others their trespasses, and I have, many times (to a point), I have a very difficult time accepting my own worth when I am behaving in a way that goes against my own truth. 

I also have a difficult time with the concept of worth as intrinsic as it relates to people who commit heinous crimes, such as murder or molestation. They have worth because they are human, and by their very existence, just like me, they are not defined by what they do? I could list much lesser offenses here, and still I would feel like this concept is not quite right. I don’t get this one, people. I just don’t.

So as long as I am trying to do my best, I am great. A bit judgmental, but otherwise, great.