Get Sparked! Part II

Well, as usual, I procrastinated my butt off writing a response to the picture my artist-partner sent me more than 10 days ago now. But I finally got a moment to breath (it's been a busy week) so I sat down and busted out a poem. It wasn't as tough as I thought it was going to be; I think I work better with a tiny bit of direction rather than someone saying "Ok, write something. Anything." That kinda freaks me out, lol. And it helps to have even a tiny inkling of an idea, then most of it flows out pretty easily. Sometimes. But anyway, here is the picture my a-p sent me:

Toward a New Jerusalem, by Ann Marie Williams

Ok, did y'all enjoy that? And now here's the poem I wrote using this picture as inspiration (or something):

Castaway
by Elizabeth Cordes

The yellow orb, unmoving,
sits atop the unchanging sky
like a relic,
refusing to fall.
It is a castaway from our old world,
as we are.
It is nameless,
as we are.

The mirrored landscape
broadens before us
(jealous, mocking).
It has no history as we do.

At the end of our journey
lies a city.
It will not let us carry
the old into new.
Its dazzling reflection
blinds us,
turns us away.

We must leave
all that we are
behind us
before we may enter.

We refuse.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I'm not really thrilled with it, but I think it was good enough. I think I'll try again for the next one and maybe even spend a decent amount of time working on it! I almost feel bad that I shirked so badly after being so excited for signing up for it. Ah well.

Ocean Dreams

This is my initial Spark piece, sent to the woman they paired me with. She must now make visual art inspired from it! I call it "Ocean Dreams."

There is a long, luxurious hiss

as the sun sinks into the ocean.

The shimmering light

of the extinguishing beast

casts blood-red diamonds across the surface

and the waves lavish them on the shore.

My eyes half-lidded

from the hazy crimson dusk,

I descend to the beach

to collect the sparkling treasure.

I tie them together

on a bit of fishing line,

crimped and knotted.

But soon, as twilight descends

and the moonlight clears my vision,

I see that my diamonds are nothing

more than sea glass,

and my work is nothing

more than a tangle of garbage and broken shells.

I throw it to the ground

and watch it crawl away.

The fishing line is threaded

through the tip of a hermit crab’s shell.

My tangled dream drags along

behind its home, only to snag

on a wayward stone.

I watch it struggle a moment,

then turn away.

Get Sparked

There were a couple of things I wanted to mention in my last blog post, but only recalled them after I hit the "publish post" button. And now I can't remember what I did want to write about. So here's something new!

I almost forgot that I signed up for the Get Sparked May session, which will hopefully get some creative juices flowing. Artists are paired up, and we send an "inspiration" piece to our partner (be it art, poetry, fiction, whatever) and then have I believe 10 days or so to write (draw) a response piece. I heard about this through a comment Lauren Flax made on one of The Quixotic Jedi's posts. I think. I saw the link, checked it out, and voila.

In other news, I finished my professor's book, "How to Cope with Suburban Stress." I'm not sure I really enjoyed it. There were some enjoyable moments, but the focus on the pedophile was just too much for me. It's one thing to have one IN your story, to cause some conflict, but to get that personal with one...I just saw no need for it. Also, the climax was pretty much right at the end of the book, and I felt like there should have been more afterwards instead of it being the end. I guess you can't win them all. I read some reviews about it on Amazon, and one said "Ted Sacks is no Humbert Humbert" and another one said "Ted Sacks is definitely creepier than Humbert Humbert." I have not read "Lolita" myself, so I really couldn't say for sure on that front.

Next up on my reading list is "Tekwar" by William Shatner. I picked it up for $.50 at a library book sale last summer. Then I think I'll finally finish "Moby Dick." Then after that, I'm not sure. Possibly finish "Stranger in a Strange Land." I'm perilously close to the end of that one but I wasn't thrilled with how deep it got into religion so I stopped. I also have "The Left Hand of Darkness" cued up (Haven't read anything by LeGuin in quite a few years), and would like to try and get through "Jane Eyre" but that one is questionable.

Friday Night @ home

Not that that in itself is unusual. I'm generally at home, or close to home, on a Friday night, even when Caelyn is gone with her father for the weekend. Mostly I'm home tonight because I have to get up ass-early to be AT Ft. T. at 0530. Suck! But other than that, yeah, I'd probably be at home anyway. Maybe not IN bed (which is where I'm typing this from, on my NETBOOK), but at home, being lazy playing pokemon (which I still might do if I can't fall asleep after I'm done here).

But I digress. My bottom line feelings tonight are sad emptiness. It happens every other week. Caelyn spends Friday night-Sunday evening with her father. I usually feel this "Yes some ME time!" euphoria after the initial "Aw, my baby is GONE!" feelings subside. I enjoy my time to myself (even though a lot of times I have to spend my "free" weekends with the 319th), and by the end of the weekend I'm pacing in front of the door waiting for her to fly back into my arms.

Tonight, the "missing my baby" feelings have not subsided. I can't really say why exactly. She left, and I didn't get that excited rush of adrenaline that comes with not having to watch her out of the corner of my eye every second. It's gotten me pretty down. I'm hoping the BS I'm sure to face in the morning will at least help to distract me, but that's questionable. Maybe it's because I don't have anything that I HAVE to occupy my time with, like avoiding school work and what-not. Either way, I'm really not liking feeling this down on a Friday night. Sorry to be such a downer. Hopefully my next post will be more upbeat.

The end of Spring Semester

Last night I took the easiest final of my college career. And I've been a college student for many years, so I think that's saying something. It may as well have been open-book since the professor gave us all the charts we needed to answer about 80% of the questions, most of which were multiple choice. Actually, she may as well have given us the same grade for the final that we got on the midterm, cuz let's face it, if you did bad on the midterm, chances are you just don't "get it" and will do bad on the final. And vice versa, of course. I got an "A" on the midterm so I'm gonna have to guess I'm getting an "A" on the final, and subsequently an "A" for the class, Intro to Linguistics. And depending on how well I did on my final story, quite possibly an "A" in Writing: Fiction as well. In the words of Kai-Lan, that will make my heart super happy! All "A"'s, that counts as Dean's List, right?

And thus ends my last spring semester at Montclair State University. (holy, the auto-save-draft thing underneath this text box is going ape-shit! does it auto-save every 30 seconds??). I am kind of upset that I wasn't able to take any classes during the summer, half because I want to get this school thing over with, and half because I got a shit-load more money from the GI Bill for taking a summer class. I'm not sure why or how, I thought it was a mistake last year, but I called and they said it was OK. But it's all good anyway. I made squat last year so my financial aid awards will more than cover my classes in the fall. Thank you, Pell Grant and TAG!

In other news, I borrowed "How to Cope with Suburban Stress" by David Galef from the library last week. David Galef was my professor for my Writing: Fiction class this semester, so I figured I'd give his writing a chance. I read about 4-5 chapters so far and let me tell you, don't read this book unless you are prepared to be disgusted and creeped out by the insane details going through the mind of a pedophile. Yeah. I am really not sure if I want to finish reading it, but I kind of want to finish so I can at least email him and say that I read his book. Or maybe I should just email him to say that it was way too disturbing to finish?

Being "Alone"

I put "alone" in quotes because it refers to a certain type of being alone, namely, single. I am slowly coming to grips with this lifestyle choice, and yes, I think it's mostly choice. Some of it is circumstance, some of it is luck, but right now I like to think of it more as a choice.

Sure, being a single mom is tough, and some women are more cut out for it than others. You know, like those women who consciously choose to have a child without a man. And some women are better equipped financially and/or emotionally to deal with parenting by herself. In my case, though, it was just the hand I got dealt. When I had my daughter, I didn't think I'd end up single, but shit happens and here I am and in a much better place than I would have been had I married the guy.

But it's not about him. This single business is about me, and I don't want to dwell on the past. It takes a lot of time and energy to try and not be single, and then to remain not-single. I don't have that time and energy. Getting my own shit together is more important than looking for someone to share my shit with. I already have a nearly-5-yr old to share my shit with! I spent too much energy in the past few years worrying about wanting to be with someone that I almost lost focus on what is really important. Namely, graduating college, working enough to make money to pay all the bills, and being a mother. All these things MUST come first before anything else, and if they are the ONLY things going on, then that's good enough for me.

I know what "they" say. "Stop trying and it'll just happen." Ya know, "they" say that for a lot of things. So, I'm going to stop trying. Not because I want it to happen, but because trying hasn't made it happen (and not that I've tried very hard, mind you, but enough to say "gosh this is more work than it's worth right now). My focus is on other things, and I'm happier because of it, more content. If someone happens along and we hit it off, then great! But I'm not counting on it and I don't waste too much thought on the potential of it actually happening. I honestly don't think it will.

And I'm OK with that! Let me get to my bottom line here. I am, right now, OK with the thought of being single for the rest of my life. I'm OK growing old and being an old lady who gets her jollies playing Bingo every Thursday night. And sure, I'd love to have more kids, but I don't want to have more while single; I would like to preempt having more kids with having a man in my life. Since I don't see that happening, I am happy with just my little girl. She is quite the handful and I don't see THAT slowing down any time soon!

Whoo... that was quite a ramble. I'll try to save any future stream-of-consciousness for my personal diary ;)

Toilets

Yes, seriously. I need to rant about public women's restrooms for a minute. They are NASTY. It is beyond me how piss can get sprayed onto every inch of a toilet seat. HOW!?? I have NEVER sprinkled tinkle onto a toilet seat. Never. What happens in a doctor's office when they have to pee in the little cup? If they are able to do that (and maybe they're not?), then why, for the love of Pete, is it so hard to pee into a toilet that has an opening 20 times wider than a little plastic cup?

And then there are those times when you have to wait in line to pee. All the stalls are occupied. A girl emerges and you do a little happy dance (while trying to cover up the potty-dance), and walk in and see - yes you guessed it - the seat covered in little yellow droplets. Are people these days not taught to clean up after themselves?? Even if I happened to sprinkle, I'm absolutely positive I'd wipe it up when I was done, because I would NOT want the next person to go into my stall and see that I had pissed on the seat. And yet, it happens ALL THE TIME. I want to walk out of the stall, tap her on the shoulder, and then point to the seat and say, "Did YOU do that? That's really nasty." Because it IS nasty.

Please, ladies, wipe your piss off the seat so the next person isn't grossed out!! Do people who sprinkle and don't clean up think it's gross when they see pee on the seat? And if they do think it's gross, what makes them think it's ok for them to do it, too? Ugh! It is completely infuriating!