i feel i am now waking up to 2014 march and mission, as it were.
feeling my muscles.. in the last few weeks.. as if in a state of pre-rigor mortis...sprint runners would know of what i speak...when you have worked your energy, capabilities and kinetics to the very end and last and just before they seize up..that pull. that tension, that dryness, the lack of lactaid i think to keep the muscles pliable. that is what i feel. i almost feel my body is sufficiently saturated and poisoned. yes, harsh language with me as always. not negative but an aim to be clear and intentional not just with diagnosis but to be correct with approach, response and correction...
that is the sign that i need to get cracking and moving
i really do feel i want to drastically change and shift my life.
i want to stop liming and stop liming with the people i have been in 2013.
love them to death, and they took me over, kept me company but they are neither good for me, can do nothing for me, nor can they fit into my life or i theirs. already we get followed through our neighborhood when our only hope is to sit and chat, and share drinks, beers and plans. but that is it.
2013 was the pinnacle of sorts. the heights of the lime. just imagine eight hours spent in having a good time. and that was the lime after the beach of five hours and that was before the house lime of about one or two depending on how long you got there. who has time for that. well. i did, but do i want to persist still? no. i want to dry my body out..hydrate it to a hum. i stopped smoking. at least i have not since jan first. i only started this past year 2013 . what you do and into your circle should and must reinforce else to some extent or limit, you are restricting or undermining yourself.
and talk of undermining. i thought one of my missions was to accept where i am fully, to stop trying and striving, just accept this extent of nothingness but it cant continue. i have managed to find acceptance and serenity but i cannot be complacent. it is neither good for my body or soul and i feel the former even if i have worked hard on the latter...so despite the plan and intention to want nothing beyond where i am, here is my needs list
I need a house. in the bush. i need to breathe clean green air. I need to get out of town, the bustle the dust and pollution.
I need to feel breeze blowing from dusk to dawn, twentyfour hours even when the doors nad windows are closed. the peak of a mountain, on a cliff, or somewheres there. i need to be close to the sea, preferably, north coast or east. or maybe even tobago, who knows
i need to get massages regularly. right now i need to go into a heavy reconstitution remedial body reformation program. i need my muscles massaged to get that acidity liquified and lymphatic draining, deep tissue stimulating/releasing. i need to find john malcolm thomas if that be his correct order of names. he comes to trinidad from tobago every weekend and is from freeport somewhere.
I need a yoga instructor and partner-- the likes of troy: intense, hard, --doing it daily-- like intense training
I need a studio to do my art. in the new year's lime, i was stunned to have family, relatives come up to me or my mom and talk about how beautiful the house, and asking inquiring about the paintings- my work...my cousin's husband told me it was stunning. leaving room for the uninitiated and ignorant--for he would not know that I am not in the art clique, the established accepted to be named or called 'artist', or having any such qualifications as the big wig male and male psyche colonialism to sit and gatekeep...I was still in awe==his response. It made me feel more than good. It made me feel like: WOW, my artwork might be more than just activity to keep busy, once upon a time. And I shall never forget Reeanna Harrilal's visit to my home and seeing my art and telling me the "holy spirit was talking to her telling her to tell me to keep doing my art, a female ancestor or female holy spirit was guiding my hand" and it was true or had elements of truth. i paint or draw, what comes out or results is not my plan or goal. only after do i see and detect what i depicted. and there are pieces that happens to still after years of it sitting there. endless faces and forms appear. and a new thing has been happening. i will close my eyes and faces clear as day appear to me as if i am watching a video screen behind my eyelids. but that is another story. the issue here is my work as a dawdler, artist, drawer, painter...the other thing was the blind seerman from loveuntil who told me in a warehouse where he lived and did his readings that "i am to continue doing my art--it is how i am to make a living"; and when not receiving accolades about the work, people will just ask me: "am i not selling my work?" my neighbor did so on christmas day when i showed her my line of cards and poster. she just felt i was sitting idling on money not hustling. those are messages are they not? and to such a one there should be a studio, not so? I need a studio to do myself.
With the studio, I need a huge desk by a window in a room that is a library to read and write; dream and muse;
and that is what this writing is all about...documenting my mission, purpose, march - "just to do myself; to take care of myself; to plant, bloom and blossom myself"
massages
houses
studio
library writing room
green bush breeze
body hydration- detox
five morrocoys
and hopefully fertile land to plant food.
that is the mission.
there is one thing i left out that no matter how much time passes i seem to maintain my struggle to write and admit it on paper. perhaps it is the reflection that discomforts me so/ or maybe I know that one cant put it on a list, so ethereal is its occurrence, life and existence. but rumi speaks of it always...that
this reads like a quiet life doesnt it?
feeling my muscles.. in the last few weeks.. as if in a state of pre-rigor mortis...sprint runners would know of what i speak...when you have worked your energy, capabilities and kinetics to the very end and last and just before they seize up..that pull. that tension, that dryness, the lack of lactaid i think to keep the muscles pliable. that is what i feel. i almost feel my body is sufficiently saturated and poisoned. yes, harsh language with me as always. not negative but an aim to be clear and intentional not just with diagnosis but to be correct with approach, response and correction...
that is the sign that i need to get cracking and moving
i really do feel i want to drastically change and shift my life.
i want to stop liming and stop liming with the people i have been in 2013.
love them to death, and they took me over, kept me company but they are neither good for me, can do nothing for me, nor can they fit into my life or i theirs. already we get followed through our neighborhood when our only hope is to sit and chat, and share drinks, beers and plans. but that is it.
2013 was the pinnacle of sorts. the heights of the lime. just imagine eight hours spent in having a good time. and that was the lime after the beach of five hours and that was before the house lime of about one or two depending on how long you got there. who has time for that. well. i did, but do i want to persist still? no. i want to dry my body out..hydrate it to a hum. i stopped smoking. at least i have not since jan first. i only started this past year 2013 . what you do and into your circle should and must reinforce else to some extent or limit, you are restricting or undermining yourself.
and talk of undermining. i thought one of my missions was to accept where i am fully, to stop trying and striving, just accept this extent of nothingness but it cant continue. i have managed to find acceptance and serenity but i cannot be complacent. it is neither good for my body or soul and i feel the former even if i have worked hard on the latter...so despite the plan and intention to want nothing beyond where i am, here is my needs list
I need a house. in the bush. i need to breathe clean green air. I need to get out of town, the bustle the dust and pollution.
I need to feel breeze blowing from dusk to dawn, twentyfour hours even when the doors nad windows are closed. the peak of a mountain, on a cliff, or somewheres there. i need to be close to the sea, preferably, north coast or east. or maybe even tobago, who knows
i need to get massages regularly. right now i need to go into a heavy reconstitution remedial body reformation program. i need my muscles massaged to get that acidity liquified and lymphatic draining, deep tissue stimulating/releasing. i need to find john malcolm thomas if that be his correct order of names. he comes to trinidad from tobago every weekend and is from freeport somewhere.
I need a yoga instructor and partner-- the likes of troy: intense, hard, --doing it daily-- like intense training
I need a studio to do my art. in the new year's lime, i was stunned to have family, relatives come up to me or my mom and talk about how beautiful the house, and asking inquiring about the paintings- my work...my cousin's husband told me it was stunning. leaving room for the uninitiated and ignorant--for he would not know that I am not in the art clique, the established accepted to be named or called 'artist', or having any such qualifications as the big wig male and male psyche colonialism to sit and gatekeep...I was still in awe==his response. It made me feel more than good. It made me feel like: WOW, my artwork might be more than just activity to keep busy, once upon a time. And I shall never forget Reeanna Harrilal's visit to my home and seeing my art and telling me the "holy spirit was talking to her telling her to tell me to keep doing my art, a female ancestor or female holy spirit was guiding my hand" and it was true or had elements of truth. i paint or draw, what comes out or results is not my plan or goal. only after do i see and detect what i depicted. and there are pieces that happens to still after years of it sitting there. endless faces and forms appear. and a new thing has been happening. i will close my eyes and faces clear as day appear to me as if i am watching a video screen behind my eyelids. but that is another story. the issue here is my work as a dawdler, artist, drawer, painter...the other thing was the blind seerman from loveuntil who told me in a warehouse where he lived and did his readings that "i am to continue doing my art--it is how i am to make a living"; and when not receiving accolades about the work, people will just ask me: "am i not selling my work?" my neighbor did so on christmas day when i showed her my line of cards and poster. she just felt i was sitting idling on money not hustling. those are messages are they not? and to such a one there should be a studio, not so? I need a studio to do myself.
With the studio, I need a huge desk by a window in a room that is a library to read and write; dream and muse;
and that is what this writing is all about...documenting my mission, purpose, march - "just to do myself; to take care of myself; to plant, bloom and blossom myself"
massages
houses
studio
library writing room
green bush breeze
body hydration- detox
five morrocoys
and hopefully fertile land to plant food.
that is the mission.
there is one thing i left out that no matter how much time passes i seem to maintain my struggle to write and admit it on paper. perhaps it is the reflection that discomforts me so/ or maybe I know that one cant put it on a list, so ethereal is its occurrence, life and existence. but rumi speaks of it always...that
this reads like a quiet life doesnt it?
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