tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-148836462024-03-13T03:49:45.003-04:00think.write.nowelectric night in an acoustic soulAmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-67025037320577139472011-05-09T20:45:00.001-04:002011-05-09T20:47:08.776-04:00for Julie, on the occasion of her birthdayperched above you,<br />
he<br />
and<br />
I<br />
see<br />
each moment. Each<br />
reaction to breath. eager<br />
for sun and moon. bloom,<br />
bloom,<br />
into<br />
new poppy.<br />
<br />
perched above you,<br />
he<br />
and<br />
I<br />
see<br />
each others moments. Each<br />
wing and breath. honoring<br />
sun and moon,<br />
above our<br />
blooming,<br />
blooming, <br />
poppy.<br />
<br />
Painting by <a href="http://www.rachelannaustin.com/Home.html">Rachel Austin</a> <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfOXxwy0jw2sKOaJd0tVz3hkk4wt2qJORhDzI6b4CNsgzbcEl73UTnJG7O8UIJSjRCPNF_i6m6KjHaMnwmmIbBONvhYHra4SdQXPjj3BtiQR9WLnAx7BhPlckdVxfzFvsg_uSl/s1600/Rachel+Austin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfOXxwy0jw2sKOaJd0tVz3hkk4wt2qJORhDzI6b4CNsgzbcEl73UTnJG7O8UIJSjRCPNF_i6m6KjHaMnwmmIbBONvhYHra4SdQXPjj3BtiQR9WLnAx7BhPlckdVxfzFvsg_uSl/s320/Rachel+Austin.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="228" /></a></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-391509099345314812011-05-06T01:02:00.002-04:002011-05-06T01:05:55.381-04:00still newi am still here and i'm still new.<br /><br />new to the day's opportunities.<br />new to listening to my own voice.<br />new to creating the life i want for myself.<br />new to letting go of the past. <br />for the <br />sake.of.my.future.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-47376477123058826562009-07-28T21:25:00.006-04:002009-07-28T22:12:39.640-04:00confessions on a tuesday eveI am struck by the following on this humid tuesday night:<br /><br />1. i never get tired of watching pride and prejudice.ever.<br /><br />2. six years into home ownership and i'm starting to feel comfortable taking control of my space.<br /><br />3. i can't believe july is almost over. 2009 was a conspiracy. it's come and gone with suspicious celerity.<br /><br />4. my nephew, zachary, has stolen my heart. Actually, he stole it when I met him as a two-year-old, and i never got it back. i wish i could clone him. well really, i just wish he lived closer to his aunt amy. he left indy today and i am in a melancholy room.<br /><br /><br />5. when in a melancholy room, watching a comforting, familiar movie, thinking about renovating my home, my darling nephew and the rapid passage of time, it's important to drink beer, listen to wicked and memorialize what's on my heart in the form of blogging.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-16653503848046408872009-04-06T18:50:00.005-04:002009-07-28T21:42:10.288-04:00thirty five in two daysthirty 5<br />30 five<br />20 fifteen<br />oh hell- 35.<br /><br />Feels like I just turned 30 a year ago. I was all worked up to be leaving my twenties. I had to get a dog, buy a house, get a tatoo, (among other things) to usher in my thirties- make it an event. My hope was that my thirties would be much better than my twenties. And, I'm happy to report, they sure as hell have been.<br /><br />That being said, I'm in a state of denial that five years have flown by in a blink of an eye and a shot or two (or five hundred) of vodka. The last five years have been good to me in many ways, but I'm officially in my middle thirties. Help.<br /><br />I heard recently that 50 is the new 30. So , I'm banking on 35 being the new 18. I have my whole life ahead of me. I'm young, ambitious and hopeful. god damn the cellulite, though!<br /><br />Here's to 35. I'm going to celebrate and hope that the next five years go just a little slower.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-40646612653904946842009-02-05T20:51:00.003-05:002009-02-05T20:57:08.834-05:0054- Tao Te ChingWhoever is rooted in the Tao<br />will not be rooted up.<br />Whoever embraces the Tao<br />will not slip away.<br />Her name will be held in honor<br />from generation to generation.<br /><br />Let the Tao be present in your life<br />and you will become genuine.<br />Let it be present in your family<br />and your family will flourish.<br />Let it be present in your country<br />and your country will be an example<br />to all countries in the world.<br />Let it be present in the universe<br />and the universe will sing.<br /><br />How do I know this is true?<br />By looking inside myself.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-6862893385421733902009-02-03T18:45:00.001-05:002009-02-03T18:48:05.512-05:009- Tao Te Ching"Fill your bowl to the brim<br />and it will spill.<br />Keep sharpening your knife<br />and it will blunt.<br />Chase after money and security<br />and your heart will never unclench.<br />Care about people's approval<br />and you will be your prisoner.<br /><br />Do your work, and then step back.<br />The only path to serenity."Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-21059404768588690202009-02-02T19:36:00.002-05:002009-02-02T19:41:34.295-05:00Love after Love, by Derek WalcottThe time will come<br />when, with elation<br />you will greet yourself arriving<br />at your own door. in your own mirror,<br />and each will smile at the other's welcome,<br /><br />and say, sit here. Eat.<br />You will love again the stranger who was yourself.<br />Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart<br />to itself, to the stranger who has loved you<br /><br />all your life. whom you ignored<br />for another, who knows you by heart.<br />Take down the love letters fro the bookshelf,<br /><br />the photographs, the desperate notes,<br />peel your own image from the mirror.<br />Sit. Feast on your life.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-2468943626202889222008-11-08T13:18:00.002-05:002008-11-08T13:25:21.337-05:00i want to go to...there is a long list of places i want to visit. i've had the great opportunity to travel over the last few years and a few of my favorite places:<br /><br />sonoma valley<br />san francisco<br />new york city<br />paris<br />ireland<br />london<br />montreal<br /><br />some of the places i still want to go:<br />florence, italy<br />tuscany, italy<br />germany<br />oregon<br />amsterdam<br /><br />looking for volunteers to be my travel buddy :)Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-21112351540062255472008-10-27T20:01:00.008-04:002008-10-27T20:26:20.186-04:00"trick or fruit"so, my niece, lauren, spent the night a couple saturdays ago. one of our activities was decorating treat bags for the cousins, Zachary, Hope, and Leah as well as for Lauren's brother, Matthew. I hope they make it to Connecticut and California in time for Halloween. (Matthew, who lives with his sister in sheridan, indiana, called me from grandma's to say "i love my present!").<br /><br />Lauren insisted on decorating one for me. she wrote my name and then added her own halloween cheer:<br /><br />"trick or furot"<br /><br />That's "trick or fruit" if you were wondering.<br /><br />Maybe she was swayed by the large supply of apples I had on hand (she had been to the orchard that day with her family and they brought their vegetarian aunt/sister/sister-in-law a million apples):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QsvAuL5AWN52a7uFy_rDSsL91mWqcbTFsRWf1Kkd3pv-2IFyLQjaLNYzCsAcfLLbEKJuN0rD0PqYQj7zT6izIMfz4woUQ_fKV1FiF07V0fiWkKP0hiN78qdy9m1ik8yzLIUB/s1600-h/IMG_3452.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8QsvAuL5AWN52a7uFy_rDSsL91mWqcbTFsRWf1Kkd3pv-2IFyLQjaLNYzCsAcfLLbEKJuN0rD0PqYQj7zT6izIMfz4woUQ_fKV1FiF07V0fiWkKP0hiN78qdy9m1ik8yzLIUB/s200/IMG_3452.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261990805946436098" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />no matter her inspiration, i LOVE her treat bag that she made for me and I've hung it in my kitchen to remind me of her sweet, humorous heart:<br /><br />"trick or furot!"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vAKu7PdsFtwB_TGi2i199brnhHW7kNOpsgJMcwHpNJLyhsKzIa6RHuMr_wSgLzuHEZ5pXUTHSnGeZ6bWxvxbLQdV5Fo2DwUCDc_-kGZeG27B3QRRe3FrQcVSkYdfYKFhMaxa/s1600-h/IMG_3456.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8vAKu7PdsFtwB_TGi2i199brnhHW7kNOpsgJMcwHpNJLyhsKzIa6RHuMr_wSgLzuHEZ5pXUTHSnGeZ6bWxvxbLQdV5Fo2DwUCDc_-kGZeG27B3QRRe3FrQcVSkYdfYKFhMaxa/s200/IMG_3456.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261992437964409026" border="0" /></a>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-54965341601465759812008-10-26T18:30:00.005-04:002008-10-27T20:28:59.297-04:00miss bennet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2CmaXPT_iPuVkuvLY8saZLK_ikIVSrPXpWaiQZBXien3pEquEG7MEySXbetBArsLQUpnGVF5qFQKBVEEC1kZR24RUlzaC4W-aiMZDC09suRCsGiRrJDl2085xTLcCqL1NYt1/s1600-h/IMG_1593.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2CmaXPT_iPuVkuvLY8saZLK_ikIVSrPXpWaiQZBXien3pEquEG7MEySXbetBArsLQUpnGVF5qFQKBVEEC1kZR24RUlzaC4W-aiMZDC09suRCsGiRrJDl2085xTLcCqL1NYt1/s200/IMG_1593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261594911127155522" border="0" /></a><br />named after one of my literary heroines, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Bennet">miss bennet</a> has been a lady since the first day I brought her home 5 years ago. i swear she thinks she's a person. She always looks like she's getting ready to give a lecture or check to make sure that the electrical appliances are turned off. she gives regular "drive-by lickings," and is as protective and maternal as they come. she's got a howl you wouldn't believe and she's not afraid to use it.<br /><br />miss bennet kisses on command and her favorite person is grandma.<br /><br />i think she's the love of my life.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-58162323591758319952008-10-22T20:59:00.007-04:002008-10-27T20:28:31.410-04:00Casey-BelleI have a lovely, affectionate, terrible dog. I adopted Casey when she was 7 months. She is now 3 years old. She has boundary issues. She has acne. She needs a root canal. She is a loud licker. She gets aggressive with other dogs. She can't be trusted to not eat valuable things around my house.<br /><br /><br />I couldn't love her more.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYeXFomtLWBRpi8H1osKxnHGANBXywwpo7wWhrNqZp49r2IxpyYww8xPfF738whQwOwWtZPk1bqTOVfkAbuKWjyintnSERCHwZgdujdZFcyD-Ruk-2bHywkysqj3GdrZX8TO4/s1600-h/casey+2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260150585899449106" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 134px; height: 200px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYeXFomtLWBRpi8H1osKxnHGANBXywwpo7wWhrNqZp49r2IxpyYww8xPfF738whQwOwWtZPk1bqTOVfkAbuKWjyintnSERCHwZgdujdZFcyD-Ruk-2bHywkysqj3GdrZX8TO4/s200/casey+2.JPG" border="0" /></a>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-60028649742507053192008-10-20T19:17:00.011-04:002008-10-27T20:27:52.932-04:00clay<div><div><div><div><div><div>ai don't know what it is about clay art. i love it. i'm drawn to it. it's what i buy at every art fair i attend. i live in a 1000 square foot house. i am running out of room for my obsession.<br /></div><br /><div>i took a pottery class a few years ago. i can't believe the strength and aptitude it takes to throw clay on a wheel. i honestly didn't have the upper body strength. the best i could muster was a few tree tiles that i have hanging in my living room. these didn't require the wheel!:</div><br /><br /><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPWcRDZshoonxCUNe-AQyxhdXHXDlk1l_6dFLhq5MW__TNU3lW9y6a_LzcylCqxmHv6c3nnTKK84D9ivFf6I4dkqHmC37pO9YK1c8spkMWyr2ay0b6sDdfKQvqysdIlxtDnOG/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"></a></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6b1kxHCE5erbBhSRjMJk5a7QXx6J1HfSDWnWsKCIgHVrpXLdZadM0TbYn14cBewQPjyX6eqYLEspkilFxjp-PB2a8Kgtw03i_08DBcWxvYNVwd1muetub-W8GKgrPx_skF06E/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259403429757581202" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6b1kxHCE5erbBhSRjMJk5a7QXx6J1HfSDWnWsKCIgHVrpXLdZadM0TbYn14cBewQPjyX6eqYLEspkilFxjp-PB2a8Kgtw03i_08DBcWxvYNVwd1muetub-W8GKgrPx_skF06E/s200/IMG_3451.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPWcRDZshoonxCUNe-AQyxhdXHXDlk1l_6dFLhq5MW__TNU3lW9y6a_LzcylCqxmHv6c3nnTKK84D9ivFf6I4dkqHmC37pO9YK1c8spkMWyr2ay0b6sDdfKQvqysdIlxtDnOG/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><p align="left"></p><br /><p align="left">A few of my favorite purchases over the last two years:</p><br /><p align="left"></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H4cftAqDJ_OvSewkupC0iH9A_KF7du-qZOPVPwRjy9XU3weyYJEKuL4tu9zRHyl655ZCrHQX_NITB7oLVn0oSYOw6AxNeoecpA2KQ6umj9W3lnLqzojTTtkCCNyET7isEqt8/s1600-h/IMG_3441.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259404859754895554" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H4cftAqDJ_OvSewkupC0iH9A_KF7du-qZOPVPwRjy9XU3weyYJEKuL4tu9zRHyl655ZCrHQX_NITB7oLVn0oSYOw6AxNeoecpA2KQ6umj9W3lnLqzojTTtkCCNyET7isEqt8/s200/IMG_3441.jpg" border="0" /></a> <p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPghoOiiZKAvhKm4fCKWokuWtsTiyuCEmBL6UWP16IDX23e-Fv3ugovQAtD398pFbNwmek4d1NbRP_XJhIgYhTc9x3OPEU8TwmBx7SwWlhkowrem67O73L-m7lXmoys6e6jSKf/s1600-h/IMG_3442.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259405530519538370" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPghoOiiZKAvhKm4fCKWokuWtsTiyuCEmBL6UWP16IDX23e-Fv3ugovQAtD398pFbNwmek4d1NbRP_XJhIgYhTc9x3OPEU8TwmBx7SwWlhkowrem67O73L-m7lXmoys6e6jSKf/s200/IMG_3442.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPWcRDZshoonxCUNe-AQyxhdXHXDlk1l_6dFLhq5MW__TNU3lW9y6a_LzcylCqxmHv6c3nnTKK84D9ivFf6I4dkqHmC37pO9YK1c8spkMWyr2ay0b6sDdfKQvqysdIlxtDnOG/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"></a></p><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhsrtXo9Bip9Vdnfkiqsu57eCFElRoyR05XgQ_IbHl-hWHsX5lXqDj2r1ZZNSISiVgKQnk4IHwSF6SeF-eRbQ5aYkgTutgnXWIjDTF5ZtB2ZyyVOaZApNGrm-7jIkFssNIswM-/s1600-h/IMG_3444.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259406222180985842" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhsrtXo9Bip9Vdnfkiqsu57eCFElRoyR05XgQ_IbHl-hWHsX5lXqDj2r1ZZNSISiVgKQnk4IHwSF6SeF-eRbQ5aYkgTutgnXWIjDTF5ZtB2ZyyVOaZApNGrm-7jIkFssNIswM-/s200/IMG_3444.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPWcRDZshoonxCUNe-AQyxhdXHXDlk1l_6dFLhq5MW__TNU3lW9y6a_LzcylCqxmHv6c3nnTKK84D9ivFf6I4dkqHmC37pO9YK1c8spkMWyr2ay0b6sDdfKQvqysdIlxtDnOG/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"></a></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwCr6ouLNfnd8vOCr1ikEILTZ46nGc-ZcbR94DYT4FfRtnLF5jrs8JZXA5L3o1GX7KThrI3PQ3E9raR_VnD2THBKUA0ukxMc6Ll2HW_tyQWEY_YzRge_-x3K0XkLYU5brcIJrF/s1600-h/IMG_3448.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259406980877456274" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwCr6ouLNfnd8vOCr1ikEILTZ46nGc-ZcbR94DYT4FfRtnLF5jrs8JZXA5L3o1GX7KThrI3PQ3E9raR_VnD2THBKUA0ukxMc6Ll2HW_tyQWEY_YzRge_-x3K0XkLYU5brcIJrF/s200/IMG_3448.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPWcRDZshoonxCUNe-AQyxhdXHXDlk1l_6dFLhq5MW__TNU3lW9y6a_LzcylCqxmHv6c3nnTKK84D9ivFf6I4dkqHmC37pO9YK1c8spkMWyr2ay0b6sDdfKQvqysdIlxtDnOG/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"></a></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPWcRDZshoonxCUNe-AQyxhdXHXDlk1l_6dFLhq5MW__TNU3lW9y6a_LzcylCqxmHv6c3nnTKK84D9ivFf6I4dkqHmC37pO9YK1c8spkMWyr2ay0b6sDdfKQvqysdIlxtDnOG/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"></a><p align="left"><br /><br /></p><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiPWcRDZshoonxCUNe-AQyxhdXHXDlk1l_6dFLhq5MW__TNU3lW9y6a_LzcylCqxmHv6c3nnTKK84D9ivFf6I4dkqHmC37pO9YK1c8spkMWyr2ay0b6sDdfKQvqysdIlxtDnOG/s1600-h/IMG_3451.JPG"></a></p></div></div></div></div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-89447415654734589202008-10-19T16:54:00.004-04:002008-10-27T20:27:25.666-04:00being aunt amy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfwQkcyWjlXr0BZV1bm5IJH7SjUxzq_OxvLOmEULmPevLCPPbA0YyILsgIKrxqjHb5vJmujQSTogzn1ZRTOG5FBihLZOpDwGFyZbgKa6Vpm3AMnoZj-YFzMMFkFd88aSiajl6/s1600-h/IMG_3428.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258973632842578242" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpfwQkcyWjlXr0BZV1bm5IJH7SjUxzq_OxvLOmEULmPevLCPPbA0YyILsgIKrxqjHb5vJmujQSTogzn1ZRTOG5FBihLZOpDwGFyZbgKa6Vpm3AMnoZj-YFzMMFkFd88aSiajl6/s320/IMG_3428.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>last night I had the pleasure of my 7 year old niece, Lauren, spending the night. rather- a slumber party, or "fiesta" as she framed it. I adore this little girl with all my being. especially when she's being sweet and affectionate like last night when we were carving pumpkins. even when she's being whinny and grouchy, like this morning when nothing was going to make her happy (although, I have to admit, the later scenario made it difficult to remember why I agreed to have her spend the night).</div><div></div><br /><div>the reality is, this little one has been special to me since the minute I heard she was coming. seven years ago I stood looking through the hospital nursery window looking at her and lost my heart forever.</div><br /><div></div><div>my wish for our relationship is that she will feel <em>known</em> by me. I hope to accomplish this one "fiesta" at a time.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-21706720169462531292008-10-18T21:15:00.002-04:002008-10-18T21:21:25.914-04:00using my wordsi've decided to start blogging again. my goal in this is to use my words. more than that- to find my words again. it's been a long time since i've tried. since i've taken the time to commit words to paper (or cyberspace).<br /><br />so, i'm here.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1146005011464347492006-04-25T18:30:00.000-04:002006-04-25T20:29:32.046-04:00four, twelve, one thousand, forty three, one, fourteen, millions<strong>four</strong> months of not writing. that's just counter to who i am.<br /><br />i'm eating sushi right now. <strong>12</strong> rolls of pure delight.<br /><br />i love that the flavor in my mouth is that of wasabi as i realize that we only have <strong>1000</strong> more days of the madness of george w.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.matthewgood.org/">matthew good</a> is my new favorite artist. i got an ipod and have spent my days and nights with his music- the <strong>43</strong> songs that i bought from itunes:<br /><br />he sings about things that are important and beautiful and ugly and mysterious. in other words, he sings about me.<br /><br /><strong>1 </strong>week in california changed my life;<br /><br />it was there i realized that the last <strong>14</strong> years of religious bullshit need not follow me around for the rest of my life. there is a freedom i feel when i am there. a different energy. i like who i am when i am in california.<br /><br /><strong>millions</strong> of dreams are inside of me. i will live them day by day.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1134853689705160982005-12-17T16:02:00.000-05:002005-12-17T17:18:10.236-05:00AwakeningI got a gift certificate to Borders from some friends from work. A hardcover copy of Kate Chopin's <u>The Awakening</u> was waiting for me on the bargain shelf. This is an amazing story, and there is one chapter that captured my heart the first time I read this novel. I've put the entirety of chapter six below. Chopin's words are poetry to me- they describe a personal journey that I have experienced these last years.<br /><br /><u>Chapter VI</u><br /><br /><em>Edna Pontellier could not have told why, wishing to go to the beach with Robert, she should in the first place have declined, and in the second place have followed in obedience to one of the two contradictory impulses which impelled her.<br /><br />A certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her,- the light which, showing the way, forbids it.<br /><br />At that early period it served but to bewilder her. It moved her to dreams, to thoughtfulness, to the shadowy anguish which had overcome her the midnight when she had abandoned herself to tears.<br /><br />In short, Mrs. Pontellier was beginning to realize her position in the universe as a human being, and to recognize her relations as an individual to the world within her and about her. This may seem like a ponderous weight of wisdom to descend upon the soul of a young woman of twenty-eight- perhaps more wisdom than the Holy Ghost is usually pleased to vouchsafe to any woman.<br /><br />But the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing. How few of us ever emerge from such beginning! How many souls perish in its tumult!<br /><br />The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude, to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.<br /><br />The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in it's soft, close embrace.</em>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1131075515877363392005-11-03T22:36:00.000-05:002005-11-03T22:38:35.890-05:001173 and countingas i type this post, there are 1173 days, 22 minutes and some odd seconds until we get a new president. <a href="http://thinkprogress.org/2005/11/03/year-in-review-whats-happened-since-bushs-reelection/">this</a> is why that count is important to me...Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1130622290125750002005-10-29T16:23:00.000-05:002005-10-29T16:45:48.026-05:00IntuitionSomething strange happened to me this week... I have a gift I was not previously aware of.<br /><br />Let me start by saying this: I got stuck in an elevator on Tuesday. My friend Mollie and I were returning to work after a nice pizza lunch. We greeted our friend, Dianne, as she got off the elevator and then we stepped on with several others. After dropping riders off at the third floor, the metal death trap sputtered and dropped a little, then nothing. I panicked- pushed some buttons, including the alarm and the emergency phone and started randomly pushing numbers on my cell phone. I then got the bright idea to press floor five- not sure why, but it seemed to work. We started up again and stopped at five. We had to pry the doors open, but we were free, our lives had been given back to us. It seemed like an hour, but I think it all lasted about 2 minutes. Mollie and I gladly took the stairs to nine, huffing and puffing all the way.<br /><br />But that's not what's strange. What's strange is that I almost got stuck in another elevator yesterday. I was at a training class in another building on the opposite end of the North side of Indy. My coworker, Neill, and I got on the elevator and and immediately I saw the red flags- lethargic doors, slow response to the selection of desired floor, and an overall air of trouble that my highly sensitized "bad-elevator" intuition picked up on. Then the situation went from bad to worse- four other people got on. In a split second I saw the future- we would soon be hovering between one and three, six of us, full from lunch, mostly strangers, trapped for who knows how long. It was too much for me. I was prompted to dive off the elevator before it departed. On my way out, I screamed "I'm taking the stairs- that elevator's going to get stuck." Neill followed, as did two of the other women, looking like they had been shocked into following my example. It must have been my foreboding tone. (They thanked me later...)<br /><br />We walked up three flights of stairs and heard it..."ring, ring." The elevator was indeed trapped. I did my duty and reported it to the closest maintenance man I could find, then I smiled in relief as I walked into my class. And, I must say, for the next hour (yes, hour) as I heard the desperate "ring, ring" plea for help from my doomed classmates, I promised myself that I will always pay attention to my newly honed and proven trustworthy bad-elevator intuition.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1130284239231295652005-10-25T18:42:00.000-05:002005-10-25T18:50:39.230-05:00Refrigerator poetrythe only creative urge i have lately is to create refrigerator poetry. i have three different sets, but i am down to one actually on my fridge. it was too much- too much clutter, too many words. i am in the mood for simplicity right now. i don't need verbosity, but rather brevity, or i seem to shut down...<br /><br />here is a sampling of my refrigerator poetry:<br /><br />imagine her story:<br />a soul in the middle<br />of a lyric,<br />a dream in between<br />life's new spirit and sad end<br /><br /><br />i could burn<br />like an electric night<br />in an acoustic soul<br /><br /><br />get<br />deeper<br />like a<br />crazy<br />beautiful<br />dream<br /><br /><br />damn vulgar loathsome man<br /><br /><br />ask fear who she is<br /><br /><br />Drink<br />&<br />travel<br />more<br />Party<br />GirlAmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1127872171202758172005-09-27T20:32:00.000-05:002005-09-27T20:49:31.213-05:00I am in blogging exile. It just took me 15 minutes to retrieve my username and password. Anyone ever experience that? As a writer, I struggle so between the prolific and the impossibility of committing words to paper or cyberspace.<br /><br />Katrina kicked me in the ass. It is important to state that I live in Indiana, however I was still devastated by the tragedy that the human beings who are my fellow citizens experienced, not to mention the shame I felt at my government's response (or lack of response), and the complete inadequacy of my desire to want to so badly to help but being told that the best I could do is to write a check. I wrote my check while I hung out over Labor Day weekend on my leather couch. This couch, by the way, is the one that I couldn't get off of all Labor Day weekend, as if my own living room was full of water. It was my own act of sharing in the suffering- and the only thing I felt I could do that weekend after calls to the Red Cross, Salvation Army and the mayors of Houston and San Antonio provided no tangible action that I could take part in. My sister in law and I decided driving to LA to pick up the poor woman and baby who had not had formula for 4 days- the ones we saw on the news station- was a futile attempt at doing something. After all, by the time we got there, that woman would surely have been rescued, right? And for god's sake, if the news people were on that overpass, surely our government could get there.<br /><br />And so, I am in blogging exile, for what is there to say? Even if I could say it, I couldn't do it justice. I am still recovering, and I didn't lose my home, my family, my livelihood. I just lost what little hope I had in my country's leaders.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1122758408264223972005-07-30T16:17:00.000-05:002005-07-30T16:20:08.270-05:00Spent the afternoon studying Economics, sipping coffee and hanging with Jules. One more week till this class is over- thank God. Although, I must say, I am enjoying this class more than I thought I would. Who knew supply and demand would be so interesting?Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1122588758144075062005-07-28T17:09:00.000-05:002005-07-28T17:12:38.146-05:00<em>Naturally, the common people don't want war, but they can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. Tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and endangering the country. It works the same in every country.</em><br /><br />-Herman Gorting<br /> Hitler's Reichsmarchall at the Nueremberg TrialsAmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1122587432791992142005-07-28T16:30:00.000-05:002005-07-29T11:17:34.760-05:00Be a witness<a href="http://www.lostboysfilm.com/">Lost Boys of Sudan</a> was the first look I got at the personal and tragic repercussions of the, <em>what is now realized as,</em> genocide occurring in Sudan, specifically the Darfur region. How many times have I cursed at the news anchor that thinks Tom Cruise getting engaged or railing about Prozac is more important or more interesting than exposing the truth of what is happening? (or the hot weather, or the latest grossly overpaid sports "hero" under arrest for domestic violence, etc., etc.). Do the powers that be at NBC, CBS, ABC, CNN, etc. really think that's all we care about? Apparently they do because they aren't telling us the real story about Sudan (or a lot of things- can I say "WMD?"). I just found <a href="http://beawitness.org">this</a> website. I can remember the call of the church in my earlier years urging me to "be a witness." Well, this is something to proclaim.<br /><br />Go <a href="http://beawitness.org/">here</a> for an opportunity to ask the major news organizations to not ignore this issue. Hopefully our government and world community will hear the call and stop ignoring it too.<br /><br /><em>I will just say this- The New Yorker wrote a good article last year about what is happening in Sudan. Kudos to them for speaking up. Let's hope others follow suit.</em>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14883646.post-1122522013727818462005-07-27T22:29:00.000-05:002005-07-27T22:40:13.733-05:00Words to live by<p><em><span style="font-family:arial;">“I beg you…to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer…”</span></em></p><p><span style="font-family:arial;">-Rainer Maria Rilke</span> </p>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01149625747807189517noreply@blogger.com3