Sad and Beautiful World

Happy Halloween!

My daughter went to her first school dance on Friday night. In the weeks leading up to it, she surprised me by telling me about her friends being asked by boys to go to the dance. I didn’t think kids did that in sixth grade. Eventually I discovered that being “asked” just meant that you’d see the boy there. Maybe.

Anyway, my daughter wasn’t being asked. She didn’t seem too upset about it, but she was talking to me about it so I figured it was bothering her some. I worry about her sometimes more than I should and other times not enough. I struggle to stop myself from projecting my own issues and memories from being that age, because she is nothing like I was. But where I would fall in with a group of girls only to be turned on and teased mercilessly, she hasn’t ever really fit in with one group. She has a best friend who in a lot of ways is a burden and I think keeps her from making other friends. She is really smart and loves school, yet is tall and blonde and beautiful so she intimidates the “nerds,” who she likes.  She was never interested in the so-called “cool” kids because even from a very young age she recognized that they were phony and often cruel. So where does that leave her? She seems happy and well adjusted, so I’m not sure if my worry comes from my own baggage or not. She gets along with everyone.

On Friday after school she came in the front door and eagerly stated, “I have a date for the dance!” When I asked her who asked her, she said, “I asked someone!” Holy shit, I couldn’t believe it. No way in hell I would have been able to do that at almost 12 years old! She asked R., whom she described as funny and looking like a girl.

She showered and got ready by wearing a cute casual dress, stockings and dress shoes, with a little sweater I lent her. She put lip-gloss on and that was it. She looked so grown up but not trashy; just really sweet. I dropped her off at her best friend’s house and before she got out of the car I gave her my cell phone “just in case.” “Just in case what,” she asked. I stumbled…it was totally about me. I remembered tears and stress and wanting to disappear. “Just in case you need me,” I said. She shrugged her shoulders and put the phone in her purse, got out of the car and left.

When she returned that night she said it was lots of fun, but she didn’t even find R. until most of the dance was over. She asked him to slow dance during the one slow song they played, but by the time they were ready, the song was over. She spent most of the time dancing with her friends. She requested “Thriller” to be played by the DJ, and her and her friend did the dance steps to it. I asked if they were the only ones and she smiled and said, “Yeah.”

That’s my girl.

Today for Halloween, despite the abundance of over-sexed little girl costumes available (see Cecily’s great post about this), my kid has always made costumes from what is around the house or in thrift stores. And she’s always been interested in being something scary or weird. Last year she was a hillbilly; the year before that a “zombie princess”. This year she is being an old-fashioned schoolmarm, wearing a dress I wore to a bar mitzvah when I was about her age that my mother saved: A up to the neck, down to the shins, frilly and flowery dress, and sensible shoes.

I’m really proud of her.

Do it.

You know, last year in November I did that blogging every day thing, and I’ll have to go back and look to see what the hell I wrote about to be able to post every day because I don’t believe it really happened.

Once again this year, I will not be doing NaNowhatever it is called BUT will be doing something else. In an effort to get my ass in gear, I am going to dedicate time every day in November to working on my book of self-portraits. There is a fair amount of writing to do, which is why I haven’t done it yet. If it were just a matter of laying out the photos I’d have been done by now.

My goal is to have it ready for sale by the end of November. I can do this, and you will please hold me to it! Encouragement, berating, shaming, questioning progress—I want and probably need you to do it all.

I am also going to try and post something here every day for that month, probably excerpts from what will be in the book as well as progress reports on how it is going. This has me a little bit excited, which is a miracle because I have been stuck in this funk for too long now. I was so desperate I even looked at part-time job listings the other day! Now THAT is scary.

Also, I now have My Zazzle Gallery set up with cards available to purchase. Please use this link or the link in my sidebar under “My Photos for Sale” to view (and hopefully buy) because I get a higher percent commission if the buyer goes through this “zazzle star” link. If there are photos of mine that you would love to see on a card or on some other product available there, just shoot me an email and I will set it up! So now you have two places to view and purchase my work, just in time for the holidays (insert big grin and batting eyelashes here)! If not you, then who? Pass the word to your non-blogging or blog reading friends. To your family. To that guy you talked with in the elevator. Anyone, in other words. And I thank you profusely.

Self-promotion

I’ve been starting to feel better. Forcing myself to go walking and try to do productive things. I spent some time working on my ImageKind galleries so they were better organized. I had some sort of stomach bug that had me convinced I was suffering from some sort of cancer but it finally stopped and now Pete is experiencing the same symptoms so I guess it really was just a virus.

I’m trying to push myself to work harder. I am inherently extremely lazy. Paradoxically, I’ve found that the more I submit to that laziness the worse I feel. So while it is intellectually a no-brainer that I should do more, my nature takes over and makes it more difficult.

I have a very hard time self-promoting, and I really need to do that if I want to earn even the smallest amount from my work. I am working on creating greeting cards on my old Zazzle account that never sold anything (it’s all private now while I figure it out again) and the site is pissing me off because things that should be obvious are not and uploading images took forever yesterday. But I want to make them ready before this month is over because Christmas is coming and you know, gifts! I’ll make some other stuff too and have it up there.

In the meantime, I started a BlogHer Ads application and still haven’t submitted the last step because I’m lazy and also sure I’ll be rejected for not updating my blog enough. But I could earn a little bit of money each month and it would make me write here more often, so that’s a win-win, right? I need the money, badly.

Lastly, a wonderful group I am involved with on Flickr called the Female Self-Portrait Artist’s Support Group are planning a book with 64 of us (out of the 600 members…more books to come if this succeeds). This is so exciting and all the women involved are amazing and talented and so of course I started looking through my self-portraits to try and decide what 2-5 images I want to use and I’m wondering what I was thinking signing up for this! Of course all the women are feeling the same way, which is funny. Why are we so hard on ourselves? If anyone wants to suggest their favorites from my self-portraits that they think I should include in the book, please don't be shy!!

I’m in a bit of a panic because I started working on putting together a Blurb book of my first 365 journey and needless to say, stopped. But I should finish it because what better place to mention and promote it than in my bio of the collaborative book (which will also be made on Blurb)?

This is a ramble of a post if ever there was one. I guess the common theme is this: I need to get off my ass.

The Color of Butterflies

Thanks for the kind comments on my last post. I’m coming out of it, but this has been draining. I haven’t felt this way in a long time; and it isn’t that I don’t recognize how far I’ve come and am grateful. It seems I am on the cusp of some kind of change, and I think it will be a positive one.

Anyway! Pete and I went away this past weekend to New York. My parents bought us tickets to see Madame Butterfly at the Met for Friday night. Those that have been following our story might remember that three years ago we had our official engagement at the Met, seeing Carmen.

The love duet at the end of Act I is Pete’s absolute favorite piece of opera music, so we were looking forward to this. Once we started hearing and reading about this particular production we were beyond excited!

I am not sure if I can do justice to this production with mere words. In fact, I have a photo to go with it. The set design was at once simple and complex—they used minimal stage items and instead utilized color and light in ways that were completely magical. The entire stage was slanted up as it went to the back, where a rectangular opening appeared slowly lit from behind. From stairs back there, characters appeared in silhouette before descending onto the main stage. As if that wasn’t enough, there was a mirror situated above them at an angle to reflect each person as they entered.

The opening scene had Madame Butterfly appear there, in her wedding robe. As she made her way onto the stage silhouetted against a red light, we see four red sashes spread out behind her. She comes center stage and four black-clad dancers who each pick up a sash and dance around her. I had chills.

But it was the end of Act I, that duet on the wedding night of Butterfly and Pinkerton, which blew us away. I didn’t even know that it was the song Pete had been waiting for—I hardly heard the song, truth be told. My eyes were so filled with what was happening on the stage that I became completely overwhelmed with the beauty of it until I was in tears.

Maybe a dozen dancers in black came out with paper lanterns on the end of long sticks and moved them about in this lovely dance of light while Butterfly and Pinkerton moved seamlessly through and around them as they sang. As the music began to climax, flower petals meant to be cherry blossoms (I assume) began falling dreamily from above. I gasped as the side lighting caused the petals to flash shades of pink as they twirled to the stage. Just when I thought it couldn’t be any more wonderful, a curtain made up of strings of petals began slowly descending at the back. As Pinkerton finally picks up Butterfly and walks under what is now an archway of paper lanterns, I realize that another curtain has been coming down in the front.

It took my breath away!

The rest of the production was wonderful, but nothing matched that scene. Though the use of Bunraku-style puppetry for their child was one of the strangest and yet marvelous things I’ve seen in a long while.

I do a lot of black and white or monochrome images with my photography, but I have to say that seeing this production made me hungry for color and inspired to try to use color in creative ways.

Addict, Alcoholic

I am 12 years sober today so forgive me for being reflective for a moment.

I had all kinds of ideas involving PS work, etc. to create a powerful 'addiction' image, but I caused enough of a reaction with yesterday's picture to hold me for a little while. ;-) And actually this simple image portrays how it feels to be an addict pretty clearly. Alone, back to the world, going nowhere, trapped. If you want to really see the face of addiction, you can look at my photo from last year's anniversary.

I've already let it be known here that I've been in a funk. It's been more than a funk, I guess. It is common to feel a bit of the old feelings, to relive that pain even a fraction, when coming up on an anniversary like this. But this year it caught me off guard.

I want to believe this is all it is about and that I feel better within a week.

Anyway, I am being reflective. My life is nothing like it was 12 years ago when I finally hit bottom and asked for help, pregnant with nobody knowing and wanting to die. I don't drink, so I don't ever find myself sobbing outside in someone's doorway or throwing up in an alley outside a bar. I don't shoot cocaine and heroin into my veins anymore so I can still pay for groceries (and I get hungry). I don't have a drug dealer coming to my door or meeting me in side streets so I can get another bag. I don't have to try to pretend everything is fine.

I have a lot to be grateful for, yet this year I feel a little empty somehow. I feel like I haven't done enough or been good enough in many areas of my life. 12 years went by in a flash, and what am I doing? No career to speak of, minimal savings, and no concrete goals. I've been okay with that, mostly. I've been happy.

I find myself feeling older than my years all of a sudden, as if I were running out of time.
I'm letting fear keep me lazy rather than take actions that I know will not only be potentially good but also make me feel better in the mean time.

Thanks for listening. xo

Celebrating our 2nd Wedding Anniversary

Can you believe it's been 2 years already?!?

Time sure flies.

And things are still absolutely wonderful. :-)