Sunday, October 23, 2011

toast and pink as a necklace and silence as a thermometer

really, nothing has hit my radar recently that was worth a second look. 
nor did any of it need much fresh ranting. 
it seems it all has been done before. 

like how my husband likes a full gas tank and yet, 
he never puts gas into my car, even if he uses it all the time. 
like how my kids are picky eaters. 
like how i never can find any tape in this house. 
{even if there are 8 empty tape dispensers + no car with gas to get some refill rolls}. 
nor do you need to hear about how my son cleans his room every sunday, 
now that he is in college. 
his efforts start from the ritual of his sheets being laundered
 to  clearing his underwear and socks from the place where they fell on the floor that week. 
when he returns home, everything hits the floor even if it doesn't need to. 
he says it is just a habit that's part of being home. 
or that my daughter will tell the 200+ comic book driven readers of her blog what she wants/loves/needs.
 i have to ask her time and time again,
 since i am banned from reading this scrolling evolution of her existence. 
if asked enough times, she usually will share what is on her mind. 
the jaws of life are needed here to attain real information.
she remains very private and guarded.

i feel through the mists of this crazy crap with my mom tentacles.
testing my sensory perceptions to their fuzzy max...
trying to ascertain what i can do long distance... for my satellite brood.

my own mother was off kilter. 
i learned at a very early age that silence is an awful thing. 
she had some seemingly unresolvable issues. 
ones that could have ruined a person for life and 
ones that could be rendered into near happiness these days.
i have chewed over what may have happened to her, since i think
her childhood was bad in so many ways. 

 things have evolved a lot over the past few decades.
better psychology/psychiatry and better drugs have improved lives. 
i will never know what really happened in her life...
assumptions have been made. 
a life time of reading mystery novels and an ability to read into situations with a wild 
creative strand, has allowed me to make these. 
we have Never discussed any of them. 
she has never been willing.
all i know is that she might have had a happier time if she had been cared for better.
or if she had more strength for introspection with aids now available.
our family has a very long streak of depression running through it.

the last time i tried to talk to her about any of our stuff, 
i got into quite a fracas.
it happened at home with both her and my stepfather. 
i swore i would not return there again.
i needed some answers.
they were unable to offer any.
instead i was met with lots of crying.
all i wanted was something that i realized i would never get.
my mom just can't talk about stuff.
it is all there inside and buried.
not something that will ever be set free in her lifetime.
my stepfather wasn't there for any of it, and i think he sees me as attacking his wife.
not having any personal experience, he is very protective of her.
i guess this is as it should be.

realizing that this mystery is part of what holds them together
and true to my stubborn streak, i have not pursued the hunt for answers
any further.
this all happened over 20 years ago.
 being stubborn is not a good thing,
 it is just a tool in my arsenal to deal for when i need to deal with
 or not. 
sorry for this depressing little segue. 
it is coming out of my fingertips and onto this page. 
it leads me up to the agenda of silence. 

silence 
 has become a very good barometer for what is happening. 
its presence lets me think what might be going on. 
sometimes, my kids and husband infer things by not telling me about them.
usually they aren't good either. 
i hate silence 
unless i need it.
it is that tiny catch of it that suggests something may be amiss. 

in my home, i often work in the living room. 
i put together necklaces, word strings, notes, color palettes, 
ideas and other things. 
it is in these moments, that i prefer the calm of quiet.

plenty of people enjoy working to music. 
on very rare occasions, this appeals to me. 
my preference is to either watch t.v. or shows online. 
my newest passion is to watch via hulu.
{there are less commercials}
choices of programs are made
it is set on auto stream and i get to  watch depending on what i like. 
generally i work in the quiet of my house. 
quiet is not the same as silence.
i see it as
 calm thoughtful,productive time
vs. 
the noise free deadly sense of foreboding.


in the calm,
there are still  sounds of laundry in progress, the dog shuffling around the house
 or traffic on the street outside.
it is not sterile, just empty of artificial sounds. 

 when i feel a catch in a conversation with one of my kids, 
i try to probe until i can determine what is the cause of this. 
like i said, it is a barometer or thermometer.
sometimes,
i can read between the lines.
sometimes it works really well for me. 
it's a test to attain information and potentially work towards some kind of solution
it can be very helpful.
i need to listen more carefully than usual in these moments.
this is hard work. 
i like to talk
that too comes from nervousness in silences.
it is all interwoven
for good ornot so good. 

anyways, my eldest finally gave way this week 
and let me know that her glasses are now 7 years old. 
how on earth did i miss that so much time had passed?
well, i will admit that there have been many lean days here. 
and the money and the time have not always aligned to take care of her needs well. 
it is not a fault thing, just a juggling act. 
that particular thing did not make it onto the to-do list as soon as it should have. 
i hope to take care of it this week. 
the girl is trying to come home for the next weekend. 
that would be so wonderful if it could happen. 

the boy has had a rough start at college. 
he and a local friend found they were both going to matriculate at the same place. 
so they opted to become roommates. 
the cute guy that my man started to room with his freshman year, 
suffered a small stroke. 
seriously, an 18 year old football star and business major 
has overcome some stuff to just get to go to college.
and this is how he is treated?
a stroke?
turns out that this runs in his family.
i know so very little about his life, but really, who knows much of anything about anyone?
right?
so he left school to come home to providence and get into re-hab. 
my son is left with a room he hates being in.
for all purposes, he has a single. 
to retain a single, he is expected to pay the college 
an extra $600 for the remainder of the semester. 
he is in need of selecting a fresh freshman to fill this other bed. 
it is part of the overwhelming stuff that is going on. 
then there is the kid down the hall, that is from about 20 minutes away
 {someplace in maine}
and he has been hospitalized for depression this week. 
another one of graham's friends  is utterly broke. 
it breaks my heart to hear that this other boy's father is in the military, 
and has been left with a mom that is too deep in drink and drugs to do right by her son. 
i thought you went to college to get an education. 
it seems that school now requires  a social worker's skills and sensitivity. 
it is getting harder all the time to become a mensch with a lot of spare 
things being tossed down in front of you. 
and for this, i heard a small catch in my son's voice. 
i felt a certainty of something unspoken recently. 
the camel's back has broken. 

i believe in him, 
but am unsure if he is able to reconcile so many of these pieces of a puzzle 
most adults might have a hard time putting back together. 
to make a decent run at it all requires perseverance, 
perspective,
discipline, 
sorting, 
list making,
cold calls, 
accepting help, 
and most hard to hear, 
listening to that little voice inside of your head. 
do you hear me graham?

as for my dealing with my own life and its stress points...
i make stuff. 

this is one of my only over the top statement necklaces put together recently.
life has been both busy and busy. 
mostly my work has been more simple in nature. 
which although i love,
 it is not toothsome enough to occupy my hands and mind fully. 
this piece is what  i call:
 "pink roses and toast". 

i always have needed a creative outlet and will always need one too. 
when we drove the boy to school to drop him off, 
 a 'palette' of enamel flowers was dragged along with me. 
 trying to fashion something out of them
to keep my hands and heart busy was the plan. 
i need to do this always... it is how i cope with things. 
some pleasing product needs to have a physical manifestation for stuff that is going on.
as we drove north, i had limited space to work. 
so i laid out the order of things as i played with them and took pictures. 
the layout exercises were useful
 to get a sense of making a choice  and a  commitment to which way to go
design-wise.

an early pass at the placement order
and components





usually, i like to play until i find a happy starting point. 
then there is some infill treatment.
and some progress photos. 

this was coming along nicely, but i needed some undercoats. 
some swags and drippage and drops. 
more falling quirkiness ...

so more stuff was added. 
more beaded chains.
more rhinestones.
more rhinestone chains. 
more over the top. 
more wendy. 
just plainly 
MORE
period.
from this to this.
period. 

so 
more of these wildly organic pieces need to be made this week. 
i feel stressed out... either genuinely
or 
artificially. 

my youngest says,"mom, it is just hormones."
it never would have occurred to me, 
that this was why i was ready all day to cry for no good reason. 
yep, 
the same person is playing chopsticks on my soul and heart right now
 with a pair of ball peen hammers. 
thus explaining my horrid headache, 
my sleevelessness with sweat forming in the rolls of my wrist lines, 
and my moodiness. 
i am a heartbeat from dropping tears like noone else can. 

can you tell i have had a long week so far?

next color play is in brown, purple, orange and perhaps some white. 
i dunno. 
the bandaid for my ague, is tomorrow's 
FLEA MARKET!!!

MUST GO TO SLEEP. 
penultimate flea market tomorrow!!!
night night folks. 

xoxo. 
W.

3 comments:

  1. I love how you speak from your heart...so refreshing...and I can totally relate to the mom thing, the college kid thing, the need to create...wow--maybe we are sisters ;)

    ReplyDelete