VENT ing in-VENT-ion ad-VENT-ure
e-VENT- u-ally
No news to anyone, but in these first two weeks of 201l, the breaking news has been overwhelmingly… depressing. (Heart) breaking news. Excruciating.
Verse for universe: Carry your hearts in shatterproof jars / hold beneath the midnight stars / hush hush whoever you are/ be/still hope
Not that anyone needs reminding...but I'm going to VENT.
Verse for universe: Carry your hearts in shatterproof jars / hold beneath the midnight stars / hush hush whoever you are/ be/still hope
Not that anyone needs reminding...but I'm going to VENT.
From floods and tragic deaths in Australia to the shootings in Arizona, to a stabbing in Dartmouth, not to mention- no, I won't mention details here but it has to do with children hurting children. The violation of innocents.
Verse for universe: Carry your hearts in shatterproof jars / hold beneath the midnight stars / hush hush whoever you are/ be/still hope
& there was the story of a single father of ten whose home burned down in Winnipeg. The teeth-scraping comments posted after the article made me think a lot about class and judgement and compassion or lack thereof. My own included.
Verse for universe: Carry your hearts in shatterproof jars / hold beneath the midnight stars / hush hush whoever you are/ be/still hope
& there was the story of a single father of ten whose home burned down in Winnipeg. The teeth-scraping comments posted after the article made me think a lot about class and judgement and compassion or lack thereof. My own included.
& then there is Sudan
Pakistan, Uganda
Pakistan, Uganda
the plight of Haiti a year after
refugee camps
refugee camps
women raped
children sick
MADness. SADness. BADness?
Woundedness.
So I remembered a poem about a women named Diana who suffered “Death by Empathy.”
Diana lives on the moon, looks down, ruminates.
Asks how we still have “gall enough/ to call ourselves/ a human planet.
Diana lives on the moon, looks down, ruminates.
Asks how we still have “gall enough/ to call ourselves/ a human planet.
********
I realize creating a blog/video about building a home is a luxury in this sadmad world and yes,
another survival/thrival strategy. A diversion. Medicine.
Yep. Narrative therapy. One more time, creating is a way to live in a world I might not want
to be in
if I let
sadmadness
in
too
deep
In a world that makes no sense to me, making nonsense has always made sense. Telling stories
makes sense. Connecting makes sense. Children make sense.Writing makes sense.
Writing instead of writhing?
Writing as All Righting ?
Beat a drum. ( scream) On a trampoline. (scream)
Drumpoline. (Scream.)
Play music. Make music.
makes sense. Connecting makes sense. Children make sense.Writing makes sense.
Writing instead of writhing?
Writing as All Righting ?
Beat a drum. ( scream) On a trampoline. (scream)
Drumpoline. (Scream.)
Play music. Make music.
So. Life is mixed.
And the first twelve days wasn't all bleak grim hopelessness
And the first twelve days wasn't all bleak grim hopelessness
I also: watched episodes of Extreme Makeover ( Yes, I do like those H&G channels ) and blubbered over an amazing couple who fostered special needs children and lived in a trailer with ten. (Where do people like that come from?)
Also: had sneak preview of a terrific book on gardens bloom in my hands
cross-country skied
made snow angels
listened to CBC radio /heartened by the series on mental health issues on
THE CURRENT
learned of two upcoming marriages, one new baby
re-read a poem by Howard Thurman I love
a poem about the work of Christmas just beginning.
Yep, I sent up some prayers. Beams. Wishes. Whispers for Sad-glad-ness.
Also: had sneak preview of a terrific book on gardens bloom in my hands
cross-country skied
made snow angels
listened to CBC radio /heartened by the series on mental health issues on
THE CURRENT
learned of two upcoming marriages, one new baby
re-read a poem by Howard Thurman I love
a poem about the work of Christmas just beginning.
Yep, I sent up some prayers. Beams. Wishes. Whispers for Sad-glad-ness.
So on the home building front? The metaphors?
Well, I discovered the word vent also refers to the slit in the back of a coat or a jacket.
I digress. All is a digression. Writing /rewriting building/re-building or in this case --- "re-route-ing"
I digress. All is a digression. Writing /rewriting building/re-building or in this case --- "re-route-ing"
We also discovered that before the wiring, which goes before the installation of insulation, ( I mean the upcoming art exhibition) in what will e-VENT-ually be the family room, we had to re-route a vent. It’s not that the DDFM forgot, he just had his mind on other things.
First, we had to clean sawdust from cracks and then, well, watch and squirm? Maybe, smile a little? The Frenchman plays with words too.
First, we had to clean sawdust from cracks and then, well, watch and squirm? Maybe, smile a little? The Frenchman plays with words too.
Line of the week: We're too young to be old hippies and too old to be young hipsters.
Singer of the week: Mary Boyoi http://youtu.be/hfiR5xp1SgE
Singer of the week: Mary Boyoi http://youtu.be/hfiR5xp1SgE
Soup du (many) jour s)was : Black Bean Leek and Turnip Stew *****
Quote du jour :“When you’re safe at home you wish you were having an ad-vent-ure, when you’re having an ad-vent-ure, you wish you were safe at home.” Thornton Wilder
Rebuttal: Not necessarily. Sometimes home is not that safe. Sometimes the adventure is home. Sometimes you gotta VENT!
Sheree, you are inside my head, and spilled out what I've been feeling this week far better and more beautifully than I could. Thank you for this. <3
ReplyDeleteHealing with words, you are, dear wise woman! xo
ReplyDeleteSheree, thank you for sharing your sense-making and for reminding me to make some sense myself.
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to seeing your new home in person.... e-VENT-ually.
Hugs
xo
Fantastic, Sheree. The first days of 2011 have not been great for us, but I am not giving up and still plan to make it an amazing year.
ReplyDeleteGlad you are writing this. I will be following.