This is my Therapy

"And you're kept in an open cage, So you're free to leave or stay.Sometimes you get confused, Like there's a hint I am trying to give you."

"talking bird" by Death  Cab For Cutie

Poorly drawn picture...by me.

I believe I've mentioned before about how much I love road trips, and have joked about having a touch of gypsy blood in me. I've expressed my restlessness of being in one place for too long (even though I always come back home.) I've talked about my longing for adventure and how I've made due by trekking through the rain and creating crazy story plots inside my head. 
And so...I find myself yet again feeling those stirring desires in my heart to go on an adventure and travel far far away...
I thought about it for a while, weighed my options, bounced thoughts and opinions off of close friends, prayed, and drank more than my outrageously large quota of coffee. 


The fact is, I still have no job. Let me reword that. I have no stationary job. No salon to call 'home', and not because there's a lack of salons or opportunities. When the Velvet Touch and I parted ways, somewhere in me, I felt peace. It was an odd and unexpected thing to feel upon losing a job. 
An opportunity for a stylist position in another salon arose, and I pursued it, but something about it just didn't feel right. It's hard to explain, but I couldn't shake it. Nothing came from this pursued position. But here's the beauty of it. My job doesn't have to be stationary! I can take it with me wherever I go...which means I can travel :) 


And so, after some deliberation, I have decided to go on my adventure. Finally. 
I have nothing that's holding me here. I have no salon to report to. No major responsibilities to look after. No relationships tying me down. So, I ask myself, why not? 


I've got a lot on my mind, and I'm a curious soul. Travel is a therapy to me. Staring out a window, watching the world pass by at blurring speeds, my mind seems to process things clearly. And so, I've purchased a train ticket, and next Sunday I begin my journey. To where? The Midwest. Kansas City, Missouri. Why? Because I have good friends out there (They're in the middle of an adoption, check them out and see how you can help contribute HERE!), and they belong to a church that I've been wanting to visit.


And so, I'm running away. Because I can. 

"I never thought I'd be driving through the country just to drive

With only music and the clothes that I woke up in

I never thought I'd need all this time alone it goes to show

I had so much yet I had need for nothing

But you

This is just therapy

Let's call it what it is

(Not what we were)

With a death-grip on this life always transitioning

This is just therapy

Cause you won't take my calls

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening to me

Letting it all sink in

It's good to feel a sting now and again

I hope it's one less woeful thing there is to fight through

Forgetting it all begin

Fresh paper and nice expensive pen

The past can not subtract a thing from what I might do

For you

Unless that's what I let it do

Loneliness and solitude are two things not to get confused

Cause I spend my solitude with you

I gather all the questions of the things I just can't get straight

And I answer them the way I guess you'd do

Cause this is my therapy

Cause you're the only one that's listening to me

This is my therapy

Let's call it what it is not what we were

With a death-grip on this life that's in transition

This is my therapy

Cause you won't hear me out

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening"

I tend to sing this when I start to get restless and need a road trip...so, on a pretty regular basis.

And may the odds be ever in your favor

What would you do if one day you were taken from your home, thrown into a massive outdoor arena with 23 other people, and told you weren't aloud to come out...unless you were the last one alive? What would you do if the only provisions you were given were the clothes on your back? If you had to brave the elements with no shelter, and the little supplies that was up for grabs must be taken along with the life of its previous owner? What would you do if you had to go through all of this knowing you would be on a screen, viewed - every second of the day and night - by the whole of your nation?

Well? 

A few weeks ago we had a massive snow storm (freak natural disaster in the middle of October!) that knocked the power out in most of Connecticut for a week or more. During that week I spent some time with my friends Reagan and Sophia. Sophia stayed at my house for most of that week, and with her she brought a new book. The Hunger games. She was hooked, and had devoured most of it in just a day or so. At night we would have story time, reading by the soft glow of a lantern. I was hooked. The intense and violent story of this girl was crazy! My eyes went wide and adrenaline started pumping as Sophia read aloud and I imagined the reckless and life threatening situations. The power came on, and she left my house before she could finish the book, but days later it was handed to me, in much rougher conditions then when it had first appeared at my house. 

I sat down immediately with this beloved and dog eared story and began some word devouring of my own. It was terrific. I read the last paragraph and was mentally gasping for air, physically running back in forth in my kitchen mumbling "What! NO! It can't end! No! Where are the keys? I'm going to buy the next book NOW! I HAVE TO!" with my sister standing by the counter, shaking her head and giving me the "You are crazier than I give you credit for." look - yes, she has a particular look for that thought, I receive it often.

But, before I finished the Hunger Games, I poisoned her mind as well, reading a chapter out loud to her before bed. Now that I am done with it, she carries it around. Disappearing into the world of Panem as often as possible. Eleanore! The girl who doesn't read anything! The girl who sticks her nose up at every book I have suggested EVER! My mother and I are shocked, but happy. I was also happy to find out that my library was carrying copies of the next two sequels and that I was able to check them both out at once. 

The Hunger Games    *  Catching Fire    *      Mocking Jay

On top of that, they are also making a movie! As always, I'm a little wary of people taking such an awesome book and putting it on film, but, as previews tend to do, the trailer looks amazing.

Quoth the Raven...

http://www.mychloeflower.com/item/The-Raven/472/p2c27

Ok, so fall is officially in full swing, and I found myself asking 'why does everything seem to naturally go...creepy-ish?'  I'm not talking about people getting ready for Halloween, some to a ridiculous extreme. I looked around a couple days ago and realized that October can be beautifully dark and dreary. Splashes of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows against a swirling backdrop of grey. The trees become skeletons blowing in a chilling breeze. I dunno, I was just wondering...

Along with autumn and Halloween, people drag out one of my favorite authors, Poe. Yes, his stories are a bit unnerving, but there's something about his writing that fully engages my imagination, his stories and poetry are, although dark, quite beautiful. And, to my surprise, I found out just a few days ago that a movie is being made called: The Raven,
( WARNING: The trailer is a little creepy and gore is strongly inferred, so if you have a really good imagination and would like to avoid conjuring up images of  not so nice crime scenes, DON'T WATCH IT! If you have no problem with it...carry on ;)    staring John Cusack as the infamous and tortured Edgar Allen Poe.


I also found, and devoured all too quickly, a book based off of the works of Poe, called Nevermore.

I almost want to tell you not to pay any attention to the description, because I don't want you to stereotype it into a fictitious-teen-romance-novel...Sure, there is an underlying element of romance in it, it's hard to find a book without that these days, BUT it's not sappyoverdoneinyourface. It's not even the main point of the book. If it makes it any better, or more appealing, IT HAS NO VAMPIRES! ;) What it is, is intense, gripping, slightly creepy, and without a sequel until January! *sigh*

This book involved me so much (for what reason I know not) that even though I've finished it and am experiencing my usual post-good book-depression, I still can't stop carrying it around with me and staring at the cover...I think I'll probably read it again...now. Just because I was not at all ready for the story to end and to say my temporary goodbye to the characters. Anyways...you should all go read it. It's fast and crazy, and you don't have to enjoy it...but who knows? You just might.

Tell me I'm not crazy, well maybe just a little bit....

I am pleased to say that autumn is here. And I gladly welcome it with open arms, steaming coffee, and comfy hoodies. Late September through early November continue to be my favorite months, and Fall my favorite season. The change is so tangible, expressed through colors, and smells, it refuses to be ignored. I find that my imagination goes wild as my senses explore this magnificent transformation.


Being a part-time employed gal, missing her brother, with some time on her hands and errands to do, I found myself adventuring through neighboring towns yesterday. Purchasing chemicals, picking up job applications, making bank runs, and visiting one of my favorite places in the world: the library. 


There I returned all my books, and went to find some new world to delve into. Success, I think. I left the great hall of literature with only two books in my bag this time, I had learned my lesson on over ambitious amounts of reading with lack of time to do so, and was intrigued by the story line of my new companions. (Happenstance Found, by P.W. Catanese, an author who apparently lives in CT, and The Wednesday Wars, by Gary D. Schmidt an author who does not live in CT ;)


I pushed through the double doors out into the gray, damp world of downtown Manchester. And as I made my way to my parallel parked car, leather boots sloshing through puddles, something about the whimsical plot of Happenstance tickled a corner of my brain....I pondered it the rest of the day as I listened to the pitter patter of rain on the windowpanes. Finally my imagination got the better of me. I grabbed an old notebook filled with loose papers and a tale of epicness in the the making,(a little story I had long since put down and nearly forgotten about) set up camp in my garage, and prepared for a walk in the rain.


 With leather boots laced up and a heavy barn jacket I strolled up towards my cul-de-sac. The street was deserted and lit by four or five dim lamps. The air was pleasantly fresh, and I lifted my face towards the sky inviting the rain to soak me. It may sound terribly odd, but trudging through dark streets in the rain can be quite invigorating. As I traveled up the street my mind went on many adventures. So many stories, so many possibilities. 


Returning to my garage I slouched down in a canvas chair, notebook in my lap, doors wide open, the sound of rain and chill of mist floating through. I sat there for the next hour familiarizing myself with old friends, and reconstructing new and exciting plot lines. Thinking up all sorts of adventures that I wish I could have. Once or twice my father came out with looks of confusion, amusement, and what may have been concern for my sanity. I was inspired. Blame it on the weather. Blame it on my new pair of scruffy leather boots. Blame it on boredom, or a lack of adventure. Blame it on my lunacy. I don't care. I had fun. 

I escaped for just a little bit, and it was most refreshing to do so.

Call me crazy, I'll say ambitious

Yesterday I took a trip to the Library with my mother and sister. I had no plans to borrow any books. After all, I was in the middle of two, and have one on loan from a friend of mine that I haven't cracked open yet! It was gonna be a quick in and out returning job.....or so I thought.

We got in there, I placed my two returns on the desk, and then I looked around me. I am fascinated by libraries. Their nooks and crannies, rows upon rows of shelves crammed with books, the smell of dust, love, and old paper. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to live there. To be locked away at night, everything is quiet, the building empty, the lights glow softly, and you are alone with millions upon millions of books.

What would you do? Roam the isles aimlessly? Start from one end of the library and make your way to the other, reading every single book that lay between? Find secret rooms and passages that are hidden deep in the belly of the building(I'm sure they're there....but maybe not, if your libraries aren't as old as mine). Make a fort out of books. Stand on the balcony overlooking the entrance hall and recite Shakespeare at the top of your lungs, with all the emotion you could muster. Sing....I'm sure the acoustics are great in there ;) Slide back and forth on the ladders on wheels like it was a ride at the amusement park(You know you've always wanted to do that, don't even lie to me!)

As you can see, I've given this a lot of thought and imagination. When I have my own place, there WILL be a room fully devoted to books. I promise you. (Actually...that's what my room is starting to look like now....)

Anyways, I dropped my books off and started looking around. I couldn't help it. The books were calling to me, how could I not answer? It's like a game of hide and seek. You have to keep going until you find that one story that is calling for you. My sister grabbed my hand and we headed for the children's section, one of my favorite rooms. I came out of there with at least three books, two children's horror stories(E.A.Poe style) and one that seemed to be about an evil, mind controlling puppeteer....

Next, I moved to the teen section, a place I tend to stay away from cause I feel the quality is a little less....something. It's hard to find a good story in there, I think. They're all mostly brainless young adult romance novels seemingly to consist of lots of drama, sex, drugs, or vampires(among other supernatural creatures) They have their place, and can be fun to read, but I need something with substance. Something that I can devour and feel full, not inhale and afterwords wonder, "What did I just read?" So, I hunted until I found four other books. Just as I was starting to lose feeling in my arms from my massive load of literature, I ventured out into the main hall where I found my mother and sister browsing among he 'new summer reads' display. There I found my very last one....OK. I was really done now. Really. I mean, I only have 3 weeks to start and finish most of these, and then maybe another 3 if I don't get exhausted of what's left and feel like renewing any of them.

I decided that I would read one with my coffee and breakfast in the morning, bring another one to work with me(hoping that I would really be too busy and not have time to read), and pour over a third one before bed. So...three a day...I'm not even gonna bother pretending that I have an estimated end date on any of them....All I aim for is to finish one, and start the next.

8 books, 3 weeks, no time....We'll see how this goes.

You may call me crazy....But I'd prefer to label myself as ambitiously-out-of-my-mind. Besides, sane people never have much fun anyways. So, I intend to constantly be hopping out of my world and into 3 others everyday at various times :) I think it'll be refreshing, escaping from my reality. And maybe inspire me to start writing my little stories again.

Books I borrowed(In case you were wondering):

• Puppet Master - by Joanne Owen
• Uncle Monague's Tales of Terror - by Chris Priestley
• Tales of Terror from the Black Ship - by Chris Priestley
• Beauty - by Robin McKinley
• A Kiss in Time - by Alex Flinn
• Stardust - by Neil Gaiman
• Freaks - by Annette Curtis Klause
• Clockwork Angel - by Cassandra Clare

I've found that I gravitate towards books on Carnivals, Pirates, retellings of fairy tales, sci-fi stories set in 1800's England, and over all whimsical books with darker themes....do the books you read tell anything about your personality? I don't even know what these say about mine....

HAPPY READING!

to read, or not to read...is that a question?

Hello people of the blogging kingdom, it has been a while. How were your holiday festivities?

Our Christmas here was small, but I came away with a few gems. One of them is the book that I am currently reading.

[MUD&POETRY

love, sex, and the sacred

by Tyler Blanski

"Singer songwriter Tyler Blanski lends a poet's perspective to what a single, Christian person...finds compelling and sacred about sex, love, God, and everything in between. Humans are both mud and poetry, Blanski tells us, living out of both biological and emotional needs, base desires and soaring aspirations. His memoir reveals a young Christian wrestling with this age-old truth."

PRAISE FOR MUD&POETRY

"Can a young single Christian guy write a great book about sex and marriage? Tyler Blanski has done it! This book is fun but practical, very well-written, with a wonderful lyrical rhythm. Even an old fart like me, married for thirty-two years, found it helpful." - Nate Larkin, founder of the Samson Society and author of Samson and the Pirate monks(and an old family friend :)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

"Tyler Blanski grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota. He graduated from Perpich Center for Arts Education(2002); studied at the Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, Oxford, England(2005); and holds a bachelor of arts in Christian Studies from Hillsdale College(2006). He is a co founder of Venite Ministries, a Christian spiritual formation resource and retreat center in Minneapolis, and co founder of the Couch Society, a theological forum and journal.

In addition to Mud and Poetry, Tyler has written three other books (including a book of poetry) and released two albums: Think Out Loud: Music Fighting Homelessness and Out from the Darkness. He lives in Uptown Minneapolis, where he manages a small house-painting business, Rembrandt Home Painting; participates in the communal life of an Anglican church; and writes. For more information, visit Tyler's websites: www.mudandpoetry.com or www.tylerblanski.com."] - From the back and inside of Mud&Poetry.

I'm not all that far into the book, but I'm hooked on his writing style. He's personal and humorous. Almost like an old friend you're very comfortable with who is just sitting in a cushy, overstuffed chair in your living room having a nice cuppa coffee with you. I like how he talks about his subjects, that always seemed to be viewed as really taboo, with curiosity, and musings that are just...normal, almost in a thinking-out-loud sort of way.

Not much, but there you go. I wanted to share, so I did. Go read it. Think about it. Chew it over....You don't have to like it, but I thought you might like to see what I'm reading. :)

The Swashbooklers

For those of you who doubted that piracy and love of literature ran in my family... ;)