wyld_dandelyon: (Default)
Usually, when I do ritual, creating sacred space is easy. I hold my intent softly and gently in my mind, and I am there. Day or night, private or public space, the presence of candles, incense, or other sacred tools--it doesn't matter.

Except when it does.

Being able to do it so casually most of the time can make it harder to notice when it isn't just happening, much less to figure out why. Especially since life is usually unusually hard at that point--and isn't that when we need our sacred spaces the most?.

This is complicated by the fact that I find that living my life with the awareness and intent that each moment is sacred to be more important than formal ritual, which so often can be empty, or filled with a sense of bored obligation rather than an awareness and celebration of the divine within and without. Yeah, there's boredom and drudgery in any path--it's impossible to convince myself that washing dishes is sacred on an experiential level, no matter how much I agree it's sacred on a logical level, for instance--so it's a challenge to try to stay in that mental space, even when evil is not on the rise, even when there's no clear and present danger that in the near future I won't have the money and healthcare I need, and even when there's no urgent worries about the health or well-being of people I care about.

Add those things in, and that sense of wonder, of the sacred, can slip away like a well drying up in a drought. It's there, and it's there, and it's there (though you have to work harder and be more patient to drink your fill), until, one day, it's not there, or at least is not enough.

And for all my belief that we can defeat this evil and all my determination that we will (because we must), it's taking its toll. I don't want to have to spend time on politics, not day in and day out. I don't want to be looking at my dwindling income and the threats to Obamacare and the threats of violence to queer people and worrying about the future. My health issues affect my sleep on my best nights. Worries don't help at all, and exhaustion mimics depression remarkably well. It's no wonder I've been feeling worn, overwhelmed, uninspired, and distracted.

But my good friend Susan Urban and her husband were playing at Pagan Pride (as a group, they call themselves February Sky), and though I overslept and we got there late, I was determined to get there. And we did get there, and I was walking around listening to the music, looking at things and talking quietly to the vendors, and the sweet old lady doing readings talked me into a discounted reading. She assured me her cards could give me insight into what I most need to know, and that's why I was at her table. Then she asked about my question. Half of my focus was on the music and the other half, the part thinking about my life, was just kind of overwhelmed. I stuck with that question: "What do I most need to know?".

She does readings using three decks. She had me shuffle the first deck, fan them out, and draw cards one at a time, three from the first deck and one each from the other two. First, I drew Armadillo, which she said was all about setting boundaries appropriately, but also a warning to face my troubles and not try to hide in my shell. Armadillo was flanked by cards for the mental and practical, lizard, for dreams, and snake, for rebirth. A lot of reptiles--maybe signifying that I'm naturally more affected by the metaphysical weather than I thought? I don't know. But the boundaries thing, that rang true in lots of ways, from keeping the boundaries on my food intake I need to stay healthy to limiting my exposure to all the upsetting news happening today. I've also had a task to organize my writing and arting better that I set into my Google calendar. It's been recurring as instructed for a few weeks now, whether or not I had the time and energy to do it, and that is also essentially an issue of boundaries, of carving out time and focus so I get more done. Not that I saw all that in the moment, but I felt at least some of it, on a deep, wordless level.

And then she had me draw a card from the second deck, the deck she said was Spirit Guides. I've never felt a particular affinity to Panda, but the advice that I need to create a sacred space in my home and place of work, that certainly rang true, and continues to ring true. There are plenty of things that have been making me crazy about my work and living spaces. There's reasons for all of that, of course; I've been focused on accomplishing urgent things. But that doesn't leave much space or time for thinking about making sacred space and sacred time where and when I most need it. That dovetails right into the need to tend boundaries, really, in my mind. I've started to act on that part. Since the reading, I've prioritized putting at least a little time every day into finishing the plaster work on our currently deconstructed dry goods closet (I pulled it apart when I didn't have time because the detritus made it clear it had become a mouse haven, and wouldn't be a safe haven for our food and oven parchment and so forth until the holes were fixed), and cleaning my office (I'd kept enough space for writing, barely, but had started sorting old papers and cluttered things up quite a bit. Mind you sorting those papers is a legitimate business activity, but having them clutter up my creative space was far from inspirational. I will just have to refuse to pull more stuff out to sort than I can finish in one sitting, not to have my office look like it belongs in some yuppy magazine, but because I need the space to feel inspired.) There's work yet to do on both of those things, and other stuff to do after, but at least I have started. Some of this was clear to me when she turned Panda over for me to see, but it reflects into other things too, into my goal of giving away or throwing away stuff I don't need and even into remembering to go out and pick up the trash that blows into (and gets stuck in) my rose bushes.

Finally, from a deck that's all wolves, I received the advice that I'm at a crossroads, with an emphasis that I am not at a dead end, I am free to choose my new direction. Additionally, the card advised me to plan and to keep focused on what's practical. I'm not sure what to make of that yet, but I'm still working on the boundaries and the sacred space. I expect that once I get those things in order, I'll start to see what paths are available and what choices I have to choose between. And certainly, with the danger of having less resources in the future, keeping practicality in mind matters.

I suppose that now I should go check on that drying plaster. It would be nice to paint the closet tomorrow, or at least very soon. Once it's dry, I can put stuff away that's currently hard to find and underfoot in the library.

And then I'll remember a lesson learned in my divorce, and do some formal ritual to help things along. Candles, incense, statues and so on are only symbols to help me focus (I learned, long ago, that if I tried to rely on an object for my magic, it would break or disappear all too soon)--but when I'm having trouble focusing, they are powerful symbols. And the tools I use are all, in and of themselves, beautiful and in alignment with my higher self, or I wouldn't use them in the first place.

They'll still be in a space that's imperfectly cleaned and sorted, but I can celebrate the progress I've made and plan for what I need to do to move forward, in whatever directions I will choose along the way.

Blessed Be to all of you, my friends. May you have the sacred space you need, and may your boundaries be wisely set and wholesome. May your dreams be strong, and if you need to shed a skin or two, I hope it won't itch too much as you shed the old and grow into the new. And when you face a crossroads, may you be aware that very few choices are between a good path and a bad one. May you see clearly the risks and benefits of your choices, and may you find inspiring and practical ways to work to achieve your dreams, and kindness along the way.
wyld_dandelyon: (Polychrome Wizard)
I've never been nominated for a Hugo, never even come close, not in all the years I was a fanzine writer, not as a storyteller, and certainly not as a filker.

The filker thing is a sore point for me. There are fan writer, fanzine, and fan artist categories, after all. Why are fan musicians ignored? But it's more than that, really.

Like I said, I used to do fanzines. I stopped--and I can pinpoint when, in retrospect. It's when all the "friends" I had who thought fan writing was a big deal not only were unwilling to support a filk Hugo, but they were really nasty about it. Laughing in my face was the least of it. It was like getting a series of slaps in the face, though actual hands weren't swung. It made me flinch away from those people, and focus my energy in areas of fandom where I wasn't being ridiculed and belittled.

Still, the dream remains. Someday, maybe, if I get good enough, I might win a Hugo. It's a very long term dream--not a goal, really; for a lot of reasons, but mostly in my mind, "goals" is a label for things that are more in my control. But still, the Hugo is one of the markers high on the speculative fiction mountain, and knowing it's up there helps keep me focused on writing and learning skills to keep climbing toward my goals.

In the last year, that dream has seemed a little more real to me than before, not because I was doing anything different, but because for once the Hugos weren't dominated by people who happened to be heterosexual white men. Over and over I've seen the hype (in Hugos and elsewhere) go mostly to men, despite the huge number of very talented women in the field. Even back when I was talking about a filk Hugo, there was a distinctly misogynistic aspect to the comments people made to my face. I can only imagine what they were saying behind my back.

So this whole "sad/rabid puppy slate" thing feels just like another set of slaps in the face. Not only are these "puppies" unwilling to welcome people like me into the fold, they chose to to reach out to people known for trollery and death threats to try to keep us from even getting on the ballot. Like, you know, those were their natural allies.

In looking to see who was on the slates, I also saw that "for a small fee, you can vote". In a world where women make significantly less than men (even women nurses earn less than men nurses, and that's a traditionally female field), the fee is a larger part of women's budgets. I can't speak for all women, but I know that the fee isn't "small" to me. As much as I hate it, I've mostly resigned myself to living in a world where gender matters more than competence, but this was just one more slap. These guys are apparently happy to use their bigger economic power to further the goal of keeping us down.

The whole thing bothers me. This is an aspect of life that I don't want in my politics, much less in my fandom.

So, I saw posts about the slates and the Hugo nominees, but I was trying not to think about it much. I was doing the real work of a writer--planning stories while I reviewed paperwork and worked on my taxes. Then I saw someone saying (and I paraphrase), "I'm not a sad puppy, I worked hard." That's what led me to seeking out the slates. I found, to my dismay, that he was on both of them.

To be fair, I believe he did work hard--but so did the people in his category who weren't on the slates. So did all of the people who were qualified to be nominated in the other categories too. I do art and writing and, as a musician, dramatic performance. Doing any of those well requires hard work. Heck, doing them even at a mediocre level is hard work.

So now I am left wondering, is this guy really one of the puppies, who is trying to further game the system by claiming otherwise? Or was he put on the slate and didn't know? It's possible, despite his connections in the field, that he was just as clueless that he was on those slates as other people were clueless that there was a conspiracy to keep certain kinds of people off the ballot. If so, it's possible that he still didn't know about the slates when he accepted the nomination.

If all of that is true, then this situation is unfair to him. By putting together a slate and by going outside of the community to get more votes, the people who made the slates ensured that he will never know if he would have been nominated without their scheming. They ensured that if he does win a Hugo this year, people will always wonder if he deserved it. They are the reason people are already wondering if he deserved the nomination, or if he's on the ballot because the slate-makers approve of his politics.

Similarly, it is unfair to the people who were put on one or both slates, and who removed themselves from consideration from the Hugos only because they were unwilling to benefit from what they (and I) feel was an unfair nomination practice--though they, at least, get (and deserve) kudos and recognition for their integrity.

I don't need to mention why this was unfair to the people who didn't get recognition they did earn and would otherwise have received, had the slates never happened.

I'm so sad about the whole thing. It isn't fair to anyone, and it wasn't the kind of unfairness that's unavoidable (for instance, disease or bad luck). Someone engineered this unfairness on purpose. And I hate it when people go out of their way to be unfair to other people.



I started this post needing to express this overwhelming sadness, but as I got to the end of my ramblings, I realized that underneath the sadness I am angry--those rocketships are supposed to be fueling my dreams, not making me sad.

Oh, well, they're just a signpost along the way. Those people may be able to steal or deface the sign (temporarily) but no matter how much they try to own the whole mountain, speculative fiction is way too big for any one faction to own it.

Now, that I can set the sadness aside (at least temporarily), I'm off to claim a bit of that mountain the proper way--by doing the work, writing and submitting the stories, and hopefully enriching a lot of people's lives thereby. And if a bunch of those words are fueled by my anger, well, that's a constructive use for that kind of energy. I can live with that.
wyld_dandelyon: (wigged Deirdre)
It sounds idyllic, doesn't it?

Life is never that simple, of course. Any big accomplishment requires (usually substantial) amounts of just plain hard work, and writing excellent fiction is no exception.

But so much of my life, I've had to go to sleep when my mind and spirit were ready to write, even if my body wasn't ready for sleep, so I could get up before I felt really rested and be awake enough to go sit in somebody else's desk all day being coherent and competent and productive until quitting time.

Mind you, there are many things I like about the day job I chose, since I had to choose one (I am reasonably certain I would have lost fingers to factory work). There are definitely things I will miss about it (the work itself, not just the regular paychecks). These last few days, especially, I've been told I've been doing an excellent job there, and will be missed.

But I have another dream, work that I love more. I have been trying to do this work in my off hours, but with limited success.

And even though I'll doubtless trade the positive performance reviews for a significant proportion of virtual rejection slips, I'm excited to be doing this.

I feel so lucky that I can start to work at making my dreams real in my own "on" hours.
wyld_dandelyon: (cat is ready)
You can be too busy to think, distracted by grief and worry, dreams and plans, errands and chores, and more, and if you don't deprive them of basics like dirt and water and light, they do their thing:

3 indoor tomatoes
1 indoor tomato

These are some of the tomatoes that were on my upstairs front porch during the summer.  Yes, there's more than one variety; the colors actually are different, that's not just an artifact of taking pictures with a cell phone--though, on reflection, I also realize that the second picture's colors are affected by having a glowing grow light sitting there just barely out of the frame.  I turned off the grow light that's near the grouping of three.

This just goes to show that sometimes you have to rearrange things to achieve your goals.  Indoor tomato plants, actually bearing fruit.  I am pleased!

I'm working on rearranging other things in my life too; refinancing the mortgage, sorting through clothes (and other stuff) and designating some for donating and some for trash, trying to help the docs figure out how to get My Angel healthier, and more.  It's more and more clear to me that I need a writing/arting office, and I've known for some time that I need more time and space to be creative.  I think I will be able to make some big changes soon.  I hope.  Keep your fingers crossed for me while I work on making room and rearranging things.

In other news, the moon in the clouds was beautiful tonight. The pictures taken before I messed with the camera settings were stained pink by the color of my phone cover, but these two came out pretty well, I think:

novembermoon2013 novembermoon2013--

Happy Full Moon, everyone!
wyld_dandelyon: (cat is ready)
When we moved in, we realized that the plumbing in the downstairs bathroom had a bad leak -- the sink and bathtub drains leaked right onto one of the beams that holds up the house. When we got into the basement and reached up, I found I could put all four fingers into that pipe. A couple years back, after opening up the wall on the other side, we fixed that. I still have a six-inch segment of pipe we removed, that basically lacks an inch-wide segment completely along its whole length.

Not long after that, the allergies informed me that there was some mold behind the plastic tile. Now, mind you, this is inevitable, that's why they don't let you use plastic tile on bathroom walls any more. But that meant tearing it out, which (since it had been glued to the plaster) left me with four walls that needed extensive plastering. I am very excited that the walls are now almost done. I've even put some paint on parts; I'll buy a waterproofing paint for the top layer, so we can use the shower down there if we want to.

So we've been discussing bathroom decor.

A long time ago, I picked up one of those sun-moon-and-stars shower curtains at rummage. More recently, friends gifted us with a whole set of bathroom things on that theme, including an identical shower curtain (read here "window drape" since the window is above the tub).

So I went online to find some suitable towel racks. Instead, I found shower curtain hooks. Bonus! But the towel rods were all unsuitable or boring.

Then I found two of these:

IMG_20130831_024320_166

Now, the color isn't great, but I figured I could fix that. So, last night we watched Babylon 5 while I painted. This one is probably almost done:

IMG_20130831_024209_339

And here she is with her sister, who still has some resin showing through:

IMG_20130831_035313_975

Slowly, we're getting to the point where the first floor bathroom will finally not be an ongoing project!
wyld_dandelyon: (joyouscat by Djinni)
I'm feeling the knots in my back relax.

I remember sitting listening to a rich man talk to the lawyer I worked for about 20 years ago. He was talking about sports and elections, and saying the older he got, the less he cared about the home team and the more fascinated and focused he became on elections. Which football team wins affects the mood of a day or a week--who makes our laws affects everything.

My Angel and I have a tradition of going in to vote near the end of the day, and keeping a record of what number is written by our names in the book. Usually the turnout in our area is dismal, probably due only in part to the number of non-citizens who live here. Today, we got there at about 6:20. There was no line, but there were a lot more people there than usual, including a table full of people registering to vote. (Wisconsin lets you register and vote the same day.)

We were #432 and 434 in our ward/precinct. The nice young lady behind the desk said, with a big smile, that they haven't had a break all day!

We had three instead of the usual two precincts at our polling place. We were #695 and 694 placing our ballots in the box. The other two precincts were in line with the usual voting numbers for our precinct.

Both numbers were substantially higher than at any previous election here, with Obama's last run for President being the next highest. Somebody must have really inspired the voters in our neighborhood!

Although I haven't always agreed with the people I've talked with about this election, I have been heartened by the fact that people care.  They're paying attention and they care who we elect and I find that very hopeful.

And I am so, so glad to have candidates I believe in elected this time!  Not only Obama, but also Tammy Baldwin, who is soon to be the first female Senator from Wisconsin and is the first openly gay person elected to the U S Senate. 

I am also so very glad that it looks like we will not have to spend weeks worrying about recounts and possible lawsuits. 

The election results I'm hearing today makes me believe that the world I live in is changing for the better.  Slowly with many stumbling points, but still in the right direction. 

Soon, the once and future President will speak, and then I'll head to bed to dream of a world where people in love can marry regardless of sexual orientation, where skin color and gender don't limit a person's success, and where people who are willing to work can earn enough to support a family.

I've been looking at my cell phone and saying, "I love living in the future" for a while now.  Maybe before I die I'll look at demographic data and be able to say that about social issues too.

I'm not holding my breath, mind you.  But tonight I'm cautiously hopeful.

2012-05-08_18-03-20_991 
wyld_dandelyon: (joyouscat by Djinni)
It's time once again for me to dream of flying through the air on the uneven parallel bars.

Amazing what the "monkey see monkey do" circuits of the human brain can do.

2012-05-08_18-04-07_673

In other news, my Olympics and Muse Fusion was interrupted by yard work. Ugh.  Nothing in the yard is this green, even with the recent rain we've had; this is from earlier in the spring, a spot which ended up long when the lawn mower battery needed charging.  Today, you could hardly tell this area from the rest of the lawn--but the Queen Anne's lace in the grass was tall enough that the City left a nasty-gram glued to my door.  Time to mow and weed.  *sigh*
wyld_dandelyon: (sleeping dragon by Djinni)
Perhaps I should say D is for extendeD Deadline for the Torn World critter contest (May 1st), but really, I should have done C is for Critter Contest yesterday. Never mind that I did a C post here and then a second C post over on DreamWidth (C is for Coyote)  I meant for the Coyote bit to cross-post, but apparently in the muddle of resetting passwords I couldn't remember after losing my hard drive, I un-linked my two accounts.  I'll fix that this weekend, I guess.  But in the meantime, if you like songs or poetry, or if you have an affinity for Coyote, you are welcome to go peek at one of my absolute best songs, Coyote Afoot.  For best effect, imagine me singing it to a group of Pagans.

So, anyway, D is for Daydreams.  Maybe because it's Wednesday, and I had work and errands today and have work and errands tomorrow.  Maybe because there was a big lottery jackpot recently, and I wasn't one of the winners.  I do always daydream when one of the lotto drawings is really big, though I start with boring stuff like paying bills and fixing up the house.  But wouldn't it be lovely to set up a trust to pay for my daily bread, health insurance, and the like, make sure my kid doesn't end up to her ears in debt after college, and be able to focus on storytelling and making beautiful things, whether they're evanescent like music or more durable.

The dreaming, once I get going, doesn't stop when the numbers roll out and don't match my ticket.  Then I might as well get grandiose.  What would it be like if I could fly, or breathe water?  What if I could sense electric fields or taste radar?  What if...

I find myself itching to open a word wars chat room a let my imagination free, my fingers dancing on the keyboard, a new story growing in front of my eyes.  I want to stay up until the first draft of the story is finished or at least until I can't prop my eyes open with toothpicks despite the bright sunshine streaming in the windows.

Sadly, I have to respect the fact that it's bedtime, I have to be at work (and awake and intelligent and ready to juggle phone calls and figure out screwed-up medical bills or whatever else is needed in the moment) at 8:00. 

I guess, for tonight, I'll have to settle for D is for Dreams.  The restful, restorative kind that happen while a person sleeps.  And I'll have to settle for enjoying the while the sun is below the horizon. 

Too bad I can't type in my sleep.  Some of my dreams are pretty cool!

The day job is a good thing, and I like it.  But I also like letting the muse catch me up in inspiration and diving into an imaginary world, ignoring the passage of time in this one, until I've pulled a good serving of it into this world where I can share it with you all.

So here's wishing you all good dreams and fantastic daydreams.  Perhaps we'll find each other in one of those otherworlds some night--or even some day!
wyld_dandelyon: (Disintegrations and Defenestrations! by)
Once upon a time, there was a little girl who read the Sunday comics, and laughed at Dick Tracy's two-way video communicator watch. Heck, he got better reception than the TV, and never needed to whack the thing to clear up the picture. It was quite obviously fantasy.

On the other hand, she lived in the aftermath of a very robust civil rights movement. She knew that women weren't making as much money as men yet--but that was changing, and certainly by the time she was grown up, or at least by the time her daughters might be looking for jobs, we'd have had a female President and roughly half of the CEOs in the country would be women.

Fast-forward to the present.

Last year, I got a Skype-tour of my daughter's dorm room. I chat with people on the other side of the world almost daily and have collaborated on stories with people I've never met in person. The only thing that has kept us from video-conferencing on cell phones is that we (or at least I) have, when I've had it for technology, spent my money on a working computer rather than an up-to-date fancy cell phones.

But we have the technology!

On the other hand, equal pay for equal work is still a dream. Equal _recognition_ for equal work is also just a daydream--during #feministsf chat today on Twitter, we were given a link to yet another study showing that speculative fiction by women get fewer reviews than fiction by men.

Why do I still live in a world where women always, always face challenges that men don't?

I heard an interview on NPR, a man who looked into what we--the human race--is capable of doing. He came to the conclusion that most of the things that were just dreams when I was a little girl are possible today. Why aren't they real?

All we need to make these dreams reality, he said, is money and political will.

Of course, he was talking about scientific progress. But how much of our social progress is fostered--or hindered--by money and political will?

After all, geek-toys were, when I was young, guy-toys. It wasn't Brenda Starr who had the wrist-communicator, after all.

Is it really a coincidence that the techie dreams became real, and equality for women didn't?
wyld_dandelyon: A cat-wizard happily writing, by Tod (wizard writing)
I don't feel inspired to do a 2011 retrospective. Maybe this weekend.

Right now, I'm feeling more like looking forward, considering: What goals should I have in the new year?

One friend, seen at the New Year's Eve party I always go to, said he thought perhaps he should aim for more hugs in 2012. That sounds like a good goal to me. I don't know if it will get more stories written, re-grow my guitar calluses, or further any other of my long-term creative goals, but friends are important too.

I'm going to keep my 10-submissions-a-month goal that I started last year, and have already copied the spreadsheet, renamed it, and entered the first submission. I didn't make that goal every month--some months I did more and lots fell short--but it helped me focus in a positive way, when I wasn't too busy to look at it. There were also times that everything I had on hand was out already.

That leads to a clear conclusion--I need to write more. To that end, I think I should log into the chat room with the other [livejournal.com profile] toonowrimo  writers more often.  The only problem with this is there's rarely anyone in the room between dinnertime and what should be my bedtime.  So if there's anyone else interested in writing from 7 to 11 CST, let me know.  I think I'll try to do at least one word war regularly, meaning at a minimum more days than not.

Speaking of bedtime, I need to put a higher priority on sleep.  Being too tired is too much like writer's block. Who cares if it's 7 p.m.--if I'm tired enough to sleep during what is normally my most creative time of day then I should treat myself to actual proper sleep-in-a-bed.  I must remember that exhaustion--which is not the same thing as working past dawn on a night when the Muse is whispering in my ear and I can sleep in the next day--leeches away my time and creativity.  Staying up always seems more attractive than the face-hugger, but for the most part, that's a lie.

I am, of course, planning to keep my day job in 2012. Paying the bills is a good thing, and so is health insurance, even if that keeps getting more expensive and covers less every year.  I also like having a job where I get to help people who, through no fault of their own, have been hurt. (I admit, I still do like writing fiction better. Too bad as a culture we have fallen into the attitude that nearly all creative work should be available for free.)

That brings me to another rather free-form goal--to keep stretching my skills as a storyteller, including not only my writing, but my art, music, and ancillary stuff like promoting the small-press publications I'm in.

I've committed to running the next Torn World contest, answering questions and cheerleading and trying to fill in for Ellen while [livejournal.com profile] ellenmillion  is on maternity leave.  If you folks want to give me a gift, enter the next Torn World contest and harass me for links to background information or snag me in a chat room to brainstorm before sitting down to create something for the contest.  That contest will be another Fauna of Torn World contest, so stories, poetry, art, and metafiction about sea monsters, invasive insects, cute pets, and strange wildlife will all be welcome!  (If you want to give Ellen a gift, enter this month's contest, whose theme is Fashions and Fads--you're welcome to ask me for information, links, or brainstorming this month too!). 

As to my own Torn World projects, I plan to finish Wild Snowy Chase very soon, and then turn my attention to some of my other characters.  Lalya in particular has been neglected; I need to plot out more of his story and immerse myself in it for a while.

I do want to work on the Feather-Blessed Dragons story--I owe that to [personal profile] meeks  for the wonderful art she made for it, but I've been wanting to find time for it anyway.  I'd also love to finish Clockwork Dragon, and I have some ideas for stories to submit to upcoming anthologies too.

I also still want to put some of my short stories out as an e-book anthology, and maybe a few as freebie singles, but I have not yet figured out what to do for cover art.  Maybe if I can carve out more time for art, I will succeed in making some.  I'm still leery of spending money on it, since I still have bills to pay off and deferred house fixing stuff that's been on hold due to being unemployed for so long.  But that might eventually be the solution. 

In short, 2012 will be another year where I dream big and try to make a bunch of those dreams real. 

It's bedtime for me now--I have to work tomorrow, after all.  This weekend is Sketchfest, so I'll be doing some art--but in between sketches, does anybody want to war?


wyld_dandelyon: (Polychrome Wizard)
I couldn't face getting into the car while the sun was above the horizon yesterday. This heat wave, combined with a car with no air conditioning, means that driving for more than a minute or two in the car is incredibly miserable.

A friend invited pretty much all of Milwaukee Fandom over for a collation and pool party (well, anything at his house is a "...and pool party") and I wanted to go get wet. Arriving late, I didn't have much company in the pool; for a while a water lover who's not a swimmer kept me company. When he went inside, I started swimming in earnest. For the first time in...way too long, I got the kinks out of my back, and then set to swimming in earnest, planning to actually tire out my shoulders.

It didn't work. My lungs haven't yet recovered from the assault last winter, when it got so very cold outside and I had a virus at the same time, and the asthma held me back.

After a while I gave in to the lungs and got out of the pool--swimming alone is something to do carefully, and while at your best, after all. Then I took out my poi and tried to remember how to move between some of the moves I still remember. The cool glow-balls were fun in the dark, but didn't' really provide much exercise. I'll have to find the beanbags for that, I suppose.

But even with the limits imposed by the asthma and the trees and all, my back feels better than it has in years.

I wonder how much it would cost to find a pool I could swim in regularly? Last time I looked, I was appalled. It was totally out of reach. But maybe I should look again.
wyld_dandelyon: (Polychrome Wizard)
I couldn't face getting into the car while the sun was above the horizon yesterday. This heat wave, combined with a car with no air conditioning, means that driving for more than a minute or two in the car is incredibly miserable.

A friend invited pretty much all of Milwaukee Fandom over for a collation and pool party (well, anything at his house is a "...and pool party") and I wanted to go get wet. Arriving late, I didn't have much company in the pool; for a while a water lover who's not a swimmer kept me company. When he went inside, I started swimming in earnest. For the first time in...way too long, I got the kinks out of my back, and then set to swimming in earnest, planning to actually tire out my shoulders.

It didn't work. My lungs haven't yet recovered from the assault last winter, when it got so very cold outside and I had a virus at the same time, and the asthma held me back.

After a while I gave in to the lungs and got out of the pool--swimming alone is something to do carefully, and while at your best, after all. Then I took out my poi and tried to remember how to move between some of the moves I still remember. The cool glow-balls were fun in the dark, but didn't' really provide much exercise. I'll have to find the beanbags for that, I suppose.

But even with the limits imposed by the asthma and the trees and all, my back feels better than it has in years.

I wonder how much it would cost to find a pool I could swim in regularly? Last time I looked, I was appalled. It was totally out of reach. But maybe I should look again.
wyld_dandelyon: (Default)
Which means it's fall. I'm not ready for fall. Fall means buying heat, and I still don't have a permanent job. Fall means taking time to gather the neighborhood's leaves to cover the roses. And this year, I'd like to refill the compost--for some reason, we didn't have a lot of height in the grass, so fewer grass clippings ended up there, and I was ignoring the garden a lot, so fewer weeds ended up there...it's a pit, not a heap.

But fall is so pretty, with the reds and golds and oranges and yellows that the chlorophyll hides all summer revealed.

People are like that too, though. We all have things we have to do to eat, take care of our families, stay warm in winter. And so often, that's all you see of a person.

But every once in a while, we can put those essential roles aside, and let our innerselves shine through.

And then, Oh, the glory!


(The photo is of one of the leaves I have appliqued.)
wyld_dandelyon: (Default)
Which means it's fall. I'm not ready for fall. Fall means buying heat, and I still don't have a permanent job. Fall means taking time to gather the neighborhood's leaves to cover the roses. And this year, I'd like to refill the compost--for some reason, we didn't have a lot of height in the grass, so fewer grass clippings ended up there, and I was ignoring the garden a lot, so fewer weeds ended up there...it's a pit, not a heap.

But fall is so pretty, with the reds and golds and oranges and yellows that the chlorophyll hides all summer revealed.

People are like that too, though. We all have things we have to do to eat, take care of our families, stay warm in winter. And so often, that's all you see of a person.

But every once in a while, we can put those essential roles aside, and let our innerselves shine through.

And then, Oh, the glory!


(The photo is of one of the leaves I have appliqued.)
wyld_dandelyon: (dragon reading)
My sister sent me this in a much-forwarded e-mail, with the comment that some people have too much time on their hands:



This image makes me dream of a much better world. A world where politicians don't treat each other like deadly enemies in bad B movies, and where, instead, they focus on issues (and honestly state their positions on the issues), instead of spending hours of stump speeches and millions of dollars on character assassination and similar obnoxious smear tactics.

As to the real world (cut for people who want to stick with the fantasy) )

I want to say, “Folks, there’s no one I know who agrees with everything our government has done. We certainly disagree on a number of points as to which things the government could have done better, and which alternative actions would have been better, but we can all disagree with some of our country’s actions and still be Pro-America.”

But then, by just about anybody’s definition, I’m very much on the “liberal” side of politics, so I doubt they’d listen to me.
wyld_dandelyon: (dragon reading)
My sister sent me this in a much-forwarded e-mail, with the comment that some people have too much time on their hands:



This image makes me dream of a much better world. A world where politicians don't treat each other like deadly enemies in bad B movies, and where, instead, they focus on issues (and honestly state their positions on the issues), instead of spending hours of stump speeches and millions of dollars on character assassination and similar obnoxious smear tactics.

As to the real world (cut for people who want to stick with the fantasy) )

I want to say, “Folks, there’s no one I know who agrees with everything our government has done. We certainly disagree on a number of points as to which things the government could have done better, and which alternative actions would have been better, but we can all disagree with some of our country’s actions and still be Pro-America.”

But then, by just about anybody’s definition, I’m very much on the “liberal” side of politics, so I doubt they’d listen to me.

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