We had a snowday yesterday! Sequoia and I got up first and shoveled the whole driveway to surprise Bob. I like shoveling, so it was no huge sacrifice, but we share our driveway with a business, and you have to go all the way around the business to get to our home, so it is a lot to do! Bob was off, Sequoia was off, and I was working on painting shoes. I finally feel good about something creative... those wolves were just LEAPING onto the canvas, with very little assistance from me. About time. I got one shoe completed yesterday, and I will start the second one today!
I'm smiling in my pictures. I look happier than in years passed (past?). Last year, I didn't take any pictures of myself at all, because I thought I was ugly. That's ridiculous, and I'm changing that. I'm adorable and expressive and enthusiastic!
Sequoia is working so hard at everything she does, lately, and having a snowday was very necessary. It is astonishing what is expected of kids at this age...be good at everything, be nice to everyone, be cute, be positive, win at everything, don't have a zit...we used to be allowed to have zits. Now it is illegal and you have to have meds for it. And your eyebrows have to be on fleek. I honestly never thought about my eyebrows when I was a kid. Ever. Not once. We put on lipstick and mascara and thought that was make-up. Sequoia would die! at! this! thought!
What society has lost is the beautiful genius that comes from unscheduled time. Being very bored is just exactly what happens right before you create something amazing. I believe firmly in boredom. Boredom created this video...
We did try to go outside and make a snowman, but the snow was too dry. It was so good, and soooo needed, to have some family down time. Mother nature knows what she is doing. I also invented tater-tot-tacos yesterday. You take some tatertots, then you throw all your leftover taco fixings on top, then you eat it. CULINARY BRILLIANCE...I KNOW!
The oil man is here, and Norman, our black lab, is terrified. He is shivering and throwing himself into my arms for support. Poor Norman. It is going to be okay, buddy. The oil man is our friend.
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It is hard to write about tater-tot-tacos when the US killed 9 children, a pregnant woman, and 15 other civilians, in Yemen in a failed raid on Al-Qaeda. We blew them to bits. Militants shot at our aircraft from a rooftop, so we bombed the whole building and everyone inside it. I am completely horrified by my country and this endless war. I don't understand how we are to make people stop wanting to randomly attack us by randomly attacking them. We are the terrorists. On top of creating hell for civilians, we refuse to do anything to take care of the refugees, and my neighbors think this is perfectly rational because one of them might be a terrorist. Look in the mirror! We blow up children. They blow up children. We blow up children. They blow up children. We can't stop blowing up children until they stop blowing up children and they can't stop blowing up children until we stop blowing up children.
Some really good, beautiful people are getting burned out and depressed about the news in general from Washington. Some are marching in the streets, writing letters, boycotting businesses. And we can't write about tater-tot-tacos, snow, and family time because our brains are filled up with the horror of things.
I am not overwhelmed of the horror of things. Obama blew up children, and so did George W. I'm more overwhelmed by the people who think how things are going right now is all wonderful and great. It is wonderful and great that the leaders in our country now openly purchase government positions, for example. I look at the cars that go by me as I drive in my neighborhood, and I'm leery of my neighbors because I think,"There goes someone who would support a Muslim ban. There goes someone who wants a wall." I'm getting a prejudiced heart against people in my own town, of my own race, of my own class. My own family screamed at me that Muslims are trash. That really upsets me. I want to be open to everyone. I don't want to break into two sides.
It is a small planet. When we hurt others, we hurt ourselves.
Love and light,
Your friend,
Hil
I withdrew from the political cesspool. It was gnawing away at me from the inside, like rats in a medieval torture chamber. I chose instead to focus on writing my novel, and on reacquainting myself with crystal readings so I could finish putting that to words, as well. I want to finish the novel because it's thisclose to being done, but I'm genuinely jazzed to publish the crystal-reading book. It's a positive thing, a gentle thing, a creative thing. And beauty will ultimately win out over the ugliness of evil.
ReplyDeleteCrystal reading... that sounds right up my alley. I want to withdraw, but I'm afraid to withdraw.
DeleteI am so with you with the politics. I used to live in what has been jokingly referred to as The People's Republic of Brighton and Hove because we voted in Britain;s only green MP and the only Labour MP in the south east. Where I am now though, is full of union jacks and the MP for here has a voting record of shame - most recently to not allow unaccompanied child refugees entry to Britain. WTF? So I too look at my neighbours and think I probably don't even want to know you and I can see you don't want to know me as you sneer openly at my mildly unconventional attire, so FU. But how do we go on? I have been offered two solutions to the problem of being a bit activist but not falling into the pit of doom or being visited by Steve. 1. Turn off all incoming political information and live your life apart from one chosen time - eg Sunday mornings between 9 and 11. Then skim-read a bit from trusted sources, send some emails, forward some stuff, but don't get bogged down in detail. 2. Choose one aspect and give your time to that, blanking out the rest. I'm trying to do this with plastic pollution of our oceans. It's not so easy now Trump has politicised virtually everybody. I keep seeing his face on my timeline which makes me want to shout, 'I'm a Brit! Take him away!' I'm glad you refound your art mojo - just a tiny break it had. I haven't been able to write a word of fiction since about 2009 and I'd forgotten that I ever had somehow till reading about this. Love you masses Hillypops. Anna xxx
ReplyDeleteWhy doesn't everyone refer to me as Hillypops? WHY!? :) It captures my true essence.
DeleteI can no longer speak on it. My head has gone hollow from the screaming inside of it. I talk about walking instead.
ReplyDeleteI know. You have to focus elsewhere to retain your inner fire, right? But me, I'm like a kid listening to her parents fight. I just have to listen!
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