Sometimes, I read blogs. Not very often, and not very consistently. But I do. And I think, 'Holy Hell, I could do this better... oh wait. I do have a blog! I just don't write in it! Because that would take follow through, dedication, a lack of a yammering inner critic who won't shut her damn pie hole. I digress.

If you are still reading, thank you. If you are still reading and hoping that I will write regularly, seriously THANK YOU. Light a candle for me, say a prayer that I will follow through this time.

xo

k

Am debating about changing the location of this blog (from blogger to wordpress for example).

Am pretty sure that said change would have a steep learning curve and would be time consuming.

Think I should write rather than design.

Feel free to weigh in with advice and opinions.

Hello! I haven't written on here in quite awhile. I also haven't painted, taken a photo, twisted metal into jewelry, or sown more than a button. It's hard to write. It's hard to be creative. There's so many other things that vie for my attention. Dishes to wash, stores to shop, sites to surf, tv to watch. Who wants to cocoon themselves away with the frustrating solitaire of creativity?

Well, I do. Sort of. Sometimes. I want to tell stories and produce things. I wish there were a way to turn of the critic inside my head. The one who is so hard to outrun. She is on my back and it's rare that the speed of my thinking drowns out her cackling.

Do you know what I think every writer should do? Read. An artist cannot go through the world blindfolded, how can an author not read? I don't understand that. Maybe I can justify this lack of produce as a time of fallow. A time to let crops grow. A time to gather material. Ah, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Press publish. Shut self up. Produce produced.

her complexion is pale with malnutrition,
cheeks and skin painted back to health with a deft hand

perfectly sooted lashes frame deadened eyes

and she pays good money, to ink up the flesh
she just sold to you

Think less, write more...

Think less, write more. I'm gonna go with that...

Have you ever run into the brick wall of your self definition? Come to realize that your idea of you is holding you back? That you may well be so much more than you think you are?

--Negative self assessment coming, no need to be alarmed.--

I am late. I am scattered. I am messy and disorganized and likely to poop out before I succeed.

No matter what my actions, no matter how I have improved in these areas, I still hold these truths to be self evident.

Yesterday I realized... I don't have to believe I'm different to act differently. My actions don't need to be guided by my feelings, they don't need to follow my self definition. I can be Kira (thescrewupmess) but not procrastinate for right now.

I can act differently, just for the sake of acting differently. I can divorce my feelings from my actions. Act differently than the person I think I am, and maybe become the person I was meant to be.


P.S. I've attached the following which was written by Marianne Williamson in her book A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles. (FYI It is often incorrectly credited to Nelson Mandela.)

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Commercial Lust...

Me want the pretty pretties...

http://ifitshipitshere.blogspot.com/2009/07/artist-decorated-brain-buckets-raise.html

I use my bike as my primary mode of transportation. Problem is, I HATE wearing a helmet. I do it. I do it the way that I quit smoking, despite not wanting to. With a helmet like these I may change my tune.

barefoot

In my fancy shoes I tower over his modest height, bringing me from above average to amazon.

"You are not the kind of girl who needs to wear heels"

I slip one off and sink down 4 inches.

"Better?"

"Yep"

"Now all I need is to be pregnant and in the kitchen"

He raises his eyebrows

"You know that saying right?"

"Yeah, I do, I'm just not hungry right now"