Monday, February 12, 2018

The Healing Room

There's a spare room in our house that's all mine.  ALL MINE (having said that, anyone is welcome to use it).  It's a tiny little room meant to be a bedroom, and I spent almost three months making it into exactly what I wanted - a sort of meditation/yoga/quiet room, and I'm not disappointed with how it turned out.  Granted, it's very sparse and not exactly what you'd write home about, but it is the most calm, peaceful room I've ever had and I absolutely love it. 

SO.  If you're ever in town, or staying at our house, or whatever, and you want to sit in a very awesome space, come to the Healing Room.  It's perfect for what ails you...

In one corner is a little quarter-pallet I stole from work and sanded and refinished, not really knowing what I'd do with it but feeling it would find a home in the Healing Room.  It quickly became a good place for a candle (more candles to come eventually) and the Himalayan salt lamp (which has a candle inside) that I got from Amanda for Christmas.  It also holds various trinkets and books I find valuable.

 One of my most treasured trinkets is a little tiny (maybe 1" tall) figurine of The Buddha.

Another treasure, the meditation cushion Erik got me for Christmas.

And last but not least, a little spot for Charlie.  He loves hanging out with me while I'm reading, or meditating, or writing, or even when I do yoga.  Doesn't hurt that he gets a treat whenever he lays down in his bed like the good boy he is.

Tuesday, December 12, 2017

Amy's visit

If there's anything Amy and I took away from her visit a couple weeks ago, it was that we need to get together more often.  Once every few years just isn't enough.  I miss her already...

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Sisterly visit

There are seven kids in my family, five girls and two boys.  It's not uncommon (even to this day) for my parents to introduce me to their friends as child number five, daughter number four.  Maybe it's easier for them to remember our coordinates than it is to remember the names they bestowed upon us at birth, because for the longest time I was either Paige, Amy, John, or Holly (David and Piper were the oldest two and by far the coolest - they didn't mingle with us younger peasants, therefore their pristine names were not mixed with the mud of ours).

Anyway, I spent my childhood attached at the hip with Amy (child number four, daughter number three for those keeping track).  She's two years and three months older than me and was several inches taller until I hit my growth spurt in junior high, and we were raised like twins.  We were two of the gangliest little dorks I've ever known, running around the neighborhood in matching sunsuits and dirty hair, looking like little street-rat boys.

We shared a bedroom, often times falling asleep to the soundtrack (on vinyl of course!) to the movie Annie, and if we weren't sleeping we were fishing.  (Picture a sea of dirty clothes between two twin beds, each of us clasping one of Mom's yardsticks, screeching loudly as one of us "caught a HUGE one!!" only to get caught and after promises to get to sleep, we would whisper loudly as we each CAUGHT A HUGE ONE!!)

We shared that room until she turned twelve, as it was likely the eldest had flown the nest and a room became available.  What a sad time that was, the glow of the stereo my only company.  I remember climbing into bed with her even as a teenager when I had nightmares, her presence immediately calming and comforting. 

When Amy was a junior (I think?) she robbed the cradle and met a young man who was in the year between us at school, the man that took her away from me for good (although I was a prominent third wheel and wore that title proudly until we all graduated high school), the man with whom she would birth five kids. 

We don't talk much nowadays, but thanks to Facebook and texting, we keep up in the capacity that fits both our busy lives, and that's OK.  Having said that, Thursday evening she is flying in to visit for a few days.  Just her.  I was nervous at first, as we never have company and I worry she's going to be bored out of her ever loving mind.  But as the time gets closer I am becoming more and more excited to see my "twin" whom I haven't seen in four years.  I have no idea what we'll do while she's here - maybe just enjoy one another's company.

I can't think of a more perfect visit. 

This collage was made after a visit I made to her house back in 2008.  We're hoping to get some updated pictures while she's here!  :)

Monday, November 27, 2017

Yay Erik!

So it's been a minute since I last wrote.  Sorry 'bout that.  It was a wonderful holiday, we all got fat and happy on my mediocre Thanksgiving meal, but most of all it was extremely low-key and relaxing.  All the good things a holiday should be.

Anyhoo, onto some good news!

Erik has been hired on as the staff artist for the upcoming Into the Aether Radio show (you can find its website here).  This is very exciting for Erik, as he's spent pretty much his entire life trying to make a living off his art, and all it has taken has been thousands of hours of hard work, a life-partner (that would be me, of course) to finally not only see his vision, but to push him violently towards it, and an audience of supportive fans.

So let's all wish him a big round of GOOD LUCK, as it's already opening up more doors and probably some windows too.

Good luck Erik!!

Thursday, November 16, 2017

The stable boy and the hand maiden

Every Saturday is reserved for what Erik and I call our "Saturdates" - the day is reserved for us and us alone, doing whatever it is we decide we want to do.  It is our time to simply connect with one another, and it only ends once we have had our fill, so-to-speak.  It might last a couple hours, it might last all day.  Typically we go out to lunch, watch some TV, then make out like teenagers down in his studio, because the real teenagers who live here don't need to see that shit. EW.

Our latest Saturdate began with some chitchat in bed, and I said that I needed to hop into the shower before going anywhere.  I jokingly asked Erik to keep his expectations low.  "I need to shower, but you certainly won't be getting a princess when I finish getting ready.  Think hand maiden instead.  And you can be my stable boy..."

*cue laughter*

And we did laugh.  We laughed quite a bit, because that's how a relationship is.  It isn't about getting dressed to the nines, with everything always perfect and in its place.  It isn't pristine or without flaws, as I feel society would like us to believe it should be.

It's kissing with morning breath while you hug and snuggle with smelly armpits and dirty hair.  You rub her dirty, sweaty feet when she gets home from work because those feet worked fucking hard that day.  You set aside clothing in the spare room so that you don't wake him up when you get ready in the morning, because he was up until 3:00 am painting his goddamn heart out and he needs some sleep.

It's admitting when you're wrong and striving to do what's right, even if it means swallowing your pride and vowing to do better.  Both of you.  Always.  It's saying Thank you...I appreciate you...What can I do for you?  It's recognition, it's arguing, it's communicating, it's negotiating until you both come to an agreement with whatever issue is bubbling up and causing problems.

It's crying and laughing and reassuring and believing in one another.  It's ugly and beautiful and smelly and visceral and gut-wrenching because you know that what you have is a gold mine and you'll do anything and everything in your power to protect it.  Always.

So if you ever find yourself falling short of what society is telling you what a successful relationship should look like (and that goes for literally ANY relationship), go ahead and tell it to fuck right off.  Make your own rules.  Be happy.  Do whatever it takes.  Find your own groove.  Don't be afraid to hurt -  burn yourselves up, rise from the ashes, and love what you have together, smelly armpits and all.