The past three years on OS has been quite the journey. July 29, 2009 is the day I first commented on OS, I don't know how long I was reading without commenting. Probably just a month or two before that. I didn't want to register or join anything, I didn't want to be seen anywhere. Then one day there was a post about war and I had to comment so I joined. I was only going to comment just the one time then go back to reading and remaining mute. That only lasted a couple of months, then I lost my resolve and started commenting more. I don't remember when we got the ability to look at our comments and ratings, if we hadn't gotten it I would never have known when I joined.
For most of my life all I did was work and raise my kids, sometimes I had to work two jobs. For me reading was a luxury, something I got to do for me as I fell asleep. I never thought about writing, especially poetry, it seemed like a waste of time when I could be cleaning or doing something to make a little money on the side so we could survive. OS opened up worlds I never ventured into and I would look at other blogger's art and wonder what it would be like to draw or paint. I've always wanted to draw or paint birds and didn't think I'd get to them so quickly but I couldn't wait any longer, I had to try.
My 5th drawing... three fabulous fat lineolated parakeets!
I don't know where you're supposed to start or what order to go in, mostly I was trying to build the two in relation/proportion to each other. I put off the white one because I don't know how to make it white with only a pencil.
Image from Google Images:
The shading shows up darker but it's just as well because then it shows up here. It was a great practice photo, I missed the inquisitive look on two of them, I needed to turn the beak on the white one and stretch the head forward on the center one. I learned from watching the other students to hold the drawing farther away from time to time to see those things.
In reading poetry I learned there was another way to express what I was feeling. I wrote this poem right after I got back from my trip last Christmas. Perhaps the next time I'm fighting being mute another poem will appear to help me speak.
A Simple Woman
Softly she went from place to place,
person to person, faceless to face.
Moving her lips but no one hears,
while flitting through their might.
Endless days bleed into nights,
fast and slow or left and right.
She's only the one she was before,
who wandered through their time.
Rules and judgment, pick and choose,
the brutal win, the gentle lose.
Sighs escape but they’re only breath,
she floated through their minds.
"Life is cheap" she heard them say,
as long as others have to pay.
She ponders reasons given weight,
when wading through their whys.
She wonders when the end will come,
do beginnings matter once you're done?
A simple woman came and went,
and drifted through their lives.
I look at this photo of me two summers ago and remember when my friend Big Dave dropped in to check on me since I'd been missing for a year. The next day I got a call from Mrs. Aries because he'd called her to say he was worried and said I looked frail. I was frail and though I'm no longer skin and bones, I'm still fragile. I'm handling myself with love and care and sticking with those who handle all humans with love and care.
I was physically sick and mentally confused when I arrived, it's remarkable how many times I've been lucky and cheated death and disaster. I don't know how much of it was the carbon monoxide poisoning from the broken furnace and how much was hitting my limit on bullies and traumas. Most of the time my brain was filled with thoughts and words that were scrambled. Some might say I don't belong here because I'm not a writer and I'm not writing about important things. Maybe I should have spent all my time at a site with people who have disorders and are working through similar things. But I can no longer remember all the books I've read and sites I've visited in order to get well. Anyway, I already know how to get or be sick, I wanted to learn how to be well. Where else would I go to expose myself to people who are functioning?
I got lucky on OS, many here have been generous and incredibly patient, I learned a lot. I got to be around people who dream and was told I could dream too. I'm not sure what to dream, or how to do it, but maybe that will come on it's own just by observing it in others. Anyway, I didn't arrive at OS with a splash, it was more like a plop so I guess beginnings don't matter, it's keeping on that matters.
If anyone told me three years ago I'd be writing and letting others know what's inside me, or trying my hand at poetry and drawing I'd have thought they were nuts. Happy Third Blogiversary to me. I'm grateful to have had this opportunity and hope to make it to my fourth.