First page of the cheerful color archive.

when I am the center and when I am not; when I had a house and when I will not.

Posted by jessica on Oct 1, 2010 with 6 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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There are a few things looming over me right now.

Though I realize that I am not the only one for whom life is looming.

It is good to remember this; it is good to think about others.

It is confusing, though, for I see a cartoon that reminds me not to kill spiders and for months I do not, careful to carry them outside to safety, cradling them. Or as much as one can cradle something that has eight legs (And yes, I just googled that because I had a moment of indecision. If you had come into my life right then, and in supreme confidence told me that spiders have six legs, I would have believed you, hook, line, and sinker, as the saying goes).

But out of a strong conviction that I am not the center of the universe, and after watching that cartoon, I even start to take showers with spiders. I do this until I wake up one morning with spider bites on my torso. And then I realize that I might not be the center of my universe, but I think that I am at least a little closer to the center than the spiders, and therefore I make the choice to not let them live with me any longer and yes, to even kill them, if that’s what it comes down to.

But then I come across this poem by Buddy Wakefield. It’s called The Information Man and every time I hear it or read it I get chills and time stands still as I feel the part of me that sees even with my eyes closed getting stronger. And this poem assures me that I am the center of my universe. And I think that might be the difference: my and the. As in, none of us are the center of THE universe, collectively.

We all share it.

Together, we make it what it is–and neither of us are more important than each other. But then, well, MY universe. Yes, I am the center of that. Kind of like how you can keep your house the way you want; you arrange your furniture just so and you paint your walls yellow because you heard somewhere that it’s a cheerful color and lately you’ve been feeling a little depressed and anything helps.

But you can’t go around painting the world yellow, cause it’s not just your world.

Okay, glad I figured that out. Sort of, anyway.

But all this to say: life looms.

Specifically, the fact that I am selling my house.

I wish wish wish that I could simply write something about my house. Or sing a song or do a dance about it. This is the kind of stuff I know. But instead, I get an email from my realtor telling me that the documents he received from me were missing both articles 3 & 4 and could I please supply them asap?

And I am left wracking my brain because I have no idea what articles 3 & 4 are.

None.

And so I write him. I tell him to pretend that I never know what he’s talking about and to over-explain things to me. That I will not be offended by him treating me like a child in this matter (because I am).

I know this is good for me; I know I am growing and learning. I know this will not always loom, but it is looming right now.

And also? It does not help to be selling a house with a person who is no longer part of the team. This is not helpful at all.

But I chug along.

I make it work.

I will figure out what articles 3 & 4 are.

And I will continue to learn the difference between my universe and the universe, respectively, and then try to act accordingly.

frightened rabbit song

Posted by jessica on Mar 4, 2010 with 40 Comments
in MP3, Thoughts and Feelings
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You know, it’s no secret that I am living in my parents’ basement.

But what you don’t know is that,  in order to get to my room, I walk through what I affectionately refer to as the dog room. And well, I love those dogs, I really do, but they smell. And they are large. And since there is so much of them, that can equal a lot of smell.

And the basement, it’s not exactly beautiful. It’s been lived in, yes; but there’s no carpet, the walls are sort of stripped away, it’s cold, and have I mentioned it kind of smells?

Like dogs.

Two of the nicest dogs you’ll ever meet, but still.

But then I open up the door to what everyone around here calls The Suite and it’s like I’ve been transported to a new world. The first thing I notice is warmth. And then light, cause the walls are painted this cheerful color that is soft and welcoming and with just enough hint of rose to make you wonder what you could have said to make the hallway blush.

It was probably my pop, though; he does love to tease.

But it’s very nice here. Not out there so much, but here. It’s a little sanctuary and I am grateful for it.

And well, the suite is to the basement as music is to my life.

It’s another little sanctuary in the midst of a situation that smells and feels like crap. And that’s what tonight was all about–recording music, I mean, not smelling and feeling like crap.

Not tonight, anyway.

Shane and I are working on putting some songs on an EP so we can hand it out to as many people as we can. We still don’t have a name for our band, but that certainly doesn’t keep us from playing music.

So this is a song that Shane wrote on his little mandolin that says aloha and everything. Though he’ll probably be upset that I wrote that part about aloha; he doesn’t like that his mandolin is stuck in a perpetual greeting, I guess, and has mentioned that to me before.

Oh, and Shane is playing every instrument you hear.

He’s stupid talented like that.

Except, of course, he’s not the one snapping. That’s all me. I will say that he did try to snap along, but since we only had one pair of headphones and, as the lead snapper (have I mentioned I have a wicked snap?), of course I got to wear them. So I tried to cue him silently as to when the first chorus kicked in, but it didn’t work. I’d never before seen a snap have a stutter but now I am pretty sure that I have. Let’s just say that after that little fiasco, he left the snapping to me.

Naturally.

Anyway, listen.

And try not to be jealous of my mad snapping skills.

frightened rabbit song