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This pig might make sense later, or it might not.
Usually by this point in the New Year I am busily tracking my progress on any number of resolutions which I have typed up and posted in a prominent place in my daily line of vision. One year I decided to quit consuming mass quantities of caffeine. Another year I decided to make a point to smile more.
Quit job, start college.
Exercise at least twice a week.
Travel to another country.
These are the sort of “big picture” directives that have guided my weekly schedules and daily “to-do” lists. At the end of each year, progress on the resolutions would be thoroughly reviewed and summarized in my journal. Through this process of recapitulation I would decide what I wanted to resolve for the coming year. The current year’s resolutions would then be added to the collection from previous years in a file folder, the new resolutions typed up and posted. Last year I even had a theme song: Katy Perry’s Roar. Obnoxious, but true.
This whole recap-resolution ritual has been a staple practice in my life for more years than I can recall and so it is with a sense of disquiet that I have come this far into the new year without having made a single resolution. As of right now there are no grand plans to guide me through this year. When I typed that last sentence all the little people that populate the village of my pscyhe went screaming and running through my head as meteors of the apocalypse rained down on them; that’s how much it pains me. My poor little village people think anarchy will reign surpreme without a theme song and chieftain telling them what to do.
Speaking of anarchy’s reign, I may be perimenopausal according to today’s consensus. That’s probably an overshare, but now that I’ve turned forty and I don’t have resolutions I might as well put it all out there, eh? Oh! Maybe my resolution is: I’m giving up resolutions? No, that’s just way too crazy to even consider.
So, yeah, perimenopause….I’ve been having these episodes of near spontaneous combustion day and night. It’s as if I have held aloft my sword and said,
“By the power of Greyskull!”
~ ~ ~~> >>} >>> BAM <<< {< << ~~ ~ ~
“I have the power!”
I am She-Ra and I am on fire. My body radiates heat and energy. I am solar euphoria flaring – the moon girl becoming the sun. That the body is capable of doing this sort of thing is amazing. And then it all goes away and I’m back to being a cold little moon again.
Hm…what else can I tell you?
El-D went as a “leather-clad vegetarian” on one of our recent outtings. Tonight he went out as a Grizzley’s fan, which is possibly one of his strangest transmutations yet. Who is this man? I have no idea.
I took the Christmas decorations off the tree and made it a Valentine’s Day tree. There are pink monkey’s in repose all over it, courtesy of Nanook the Barbarian. I would show you a picture, but getting up to take one would require more effort than I’m presently willing to expend, so just use your imagination. Maybe when I’m feeling ambitious again I’ll make some resolutions and post a picture. A picture of the tree, I mean. Or maybe pictures of the tree, and resolutions, and hell, why not – maybe a to do list while I’m at it.
While we’re on the topic of to do lists, I went to Crystal Bridges Museum last weekend and there was this artwork that I really need to show you because it totally resonanted with me and because it’s relevant to this post, which means I am gonna have to get up and get a cord to download the picture I took of it, so I might as well take a picture of the tree while I’m at it. Aw, there’s a puppy! …on my phone…I’m scrolling through pictures… and here’s a picture of a pig mask, which is going at the top of this post, just because.
Ok! Without further ado, here’s the picture I took of the artwork that has inspired me to get up:
Ta Da! That was hanging in a museum. It was like someone had drilled a hole in my head and shone a flashlight inside and tried to capture it all.
Here’s my Valentine’s Day tree:
And here’s a puppy:
That’s all for now!
This is my cat Lelelelelelele Yip!
Last night a crowd of crazy cat ladies (and men) descended upon the Memphis Brooks Museum for the Internet Cat Video Festival.
While a DJ blasted tunes like The Siamese Cat Song and The Meow Mix Song, attendees prowled around the lobby in leopard print skirts and cat ear headbands. We purred happily over sparkly feline baubles as we lapped at our “furballs” – a pink concoction involving rum, coconut milk, cranberry juice, and whip cream.
Then came the main attraction: internet cat videos.
Internet cat video aficionados (Yes, aficionados. I get to use my fancy words because we were at a museum) had already viewed many of these videos at home (or at work). But gathering together to watch these videos in a theatre packed with like-minded individuals lended the whole affair a certain je ne sai quoi in terms of public image. It was validating. High brow even!
It took me back to my belly dancing days on a Costa Rican mountain top when we danced to the beat of thunder pounding on the roof of our pagoda. (That is a true story I have always wanted to tell in an affected British accent at a cocktail party. It would make me sound so much more interesting than I actually am. Sadly, I have never been invited to said cocktail party to tell it. But that’s ok because I’m way too busy at home watching fancy internet cat videos to attend your silly cocktail parties anyway.) One day during my Costa Rica adventure, I sat in a room with 60 other belly dancer women and participated in a three minute laughing meditation. If you have never participated in a group laughing meditation, let me tell you, the first time is incredibly weird. You will be instructed to basically fake it ’til you make it. That’s right – just fake laugh nonstop with everyone else until the silliness of it all carries you into complete hysterics. It’s quite a catharsis really.
At any rate, sitting in the dark laughing for 15 minutes nonstop with crazy cat ladies was just like that but weirder and even more wonderful because there was no fake laughing involved. I watched grown men laugh until they cried over cat antics. And then I laughed until I cried. We all laughed and cried and it was this amazingly beautiful communal experience. It was!
And so I will leave you with a few of my favorite videos from the evening. For best results, make them big screen and gather a few friends (or strangers) to watch. Enjoy!
When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.-Kahlil Gibran
Last year I rediscovered the joy of Christmas.
This year, Valentine’s Day will have a makeover. We will keep the love, but let’s expand it beyond the mere romantic, then add a lot of light, and hm….how about a tree?
Valentine’s Day Tree
Yes, a Valentine’s Day tree. It’s all about the love and light.
Shall we celebrate with yoga and tea and giving? Healthy hearts all around.
All donations for the class will go to Le Bonheur Foundation Heart Institute. If you can’t make it tonight, you can still give by clicking the blue link above or visiting lebonheur.org
If you are interested in joining us tonight, shoot me an email lunareuphoria@aol.com for directions.
