Play by Play

::59:: recent reads

A small sliver of my neverending reading list:

Alice Waters, The Edible Schoolyard: for a recent discussion about gardening at my kids' school.

Arden Bucklin-Sporer & Rachel Kathleen Pringle, How to Grow a School Garden: kindof a practical companion for TES. I may end up with a leadership role in our school's forays into veggie gardening. Yikes.

Chris George, Mastering Digital Flash Photography: 'cause I needs to master it. 

Matthew B. Crawford, Shop Class as Soulcraft: for last night's book group. I didn't finish it. I won't finish it. It's one part preaching to the choir and one part chauvanism and unexamined privilege. 

Julia Cameron, The Artist's Way at Work: hoping to add a little more discipline to my creative practices, perhaps in conjunction with a small group of other interested people.

Karyl McBride, Will I Ever Be Good Enough? haven't started it yet, but it looks like a really good resource for daughters of mothers with Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

Jean Craighead George, My Side of the Mountain: my 4th grade teacher read it to us after lunchtimes and I adored it. My 8 y/o son recently read it with his class and I want to refresh my memory so I can talk about it with him.

Jhumpa Lahiri, Interpreter of Maladies: EXCELLENT collection of short stories bound by the common thread of Bengali Indian heritage. I found most of the stories quietly devastating in a beautiful, poetic way. Wonderful book and an easy read, too.

Alice Miller, The Drama of the Gifted Child: the classic book about children of narcissistic parents. Very affirming/validating. 

David Sedaris, Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: hilarious and often subversive short (really short) stories that I've been reading at bedtime.  Very lighthearted and silly. 

Trenton Lee Stewart, The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Prisoner's Dilemma: third book in a series that my eldest read recently. I had hoped to keep pace with him but fell far behind, alas! Great books, he and I both highly recommend them!

Louise Bates Ames & Carol Chase Haber, Your Eight-Year-Old: because I have one.

Ross W. Greene, The Explosive Child: awful title, great book. I would highly recommend it as an alternative to those "fix your awful defiant kid and control them rigidly" books.  These kids need love, patience, and understanding! 

 

What are you reading? Anything great to recommend?

::58:: avalanche

When we moved 2 years ago, I forgot to update my address with Catalog Choice, which meant the vast pruning of junk mail I had done came to an end, and the flow started anew at the new house.  I recently started collecting everything unwanted that comes through the mail, so that I could take the whole pile at once and have delivery stopped.  I already feel lighter: less stuff sitting on the entry table, less paper wasted and/or taking up space in the recycling bin, and less desire sparked by all those pretty catalogs.  Ahhh.

 

::57:: clean

Oh, the bliss of a scrubbed, mildew-free, soap-scum-less shower complete with freshly washed shower curtain. And to top it off with clean sheets in the same day? Heaven.  

::56:: they are my own

I carry a lot of shame about my hands. The fingers are short and stubby, and the nails are almost always bitten to the quick.  I've been a nailbiter and picker my entire life; I can remember being 3 and hiding behind a chair so that I wouldn't get in trouble for biting my nails.  There was a lot of pressure on me to quit this "dirty habit" as a child, although no amount of bitter stuff on my fingers or socks on my hands worked. It might taste bad, but it couldn't overcome the compulsion to nibble. Nibbling and picking were undeniable - I even bit my doll's nails and marvelled at how I could stretch the plastic out by doing so.  She still bears the evidence. As an adult, I have sometimes quit for a while, when I really wanted pretty fingernails - like when I was working retail and showing people pieces of jewelry from a case often, or when I got married and knew my hands might be in photos, or when my babies were born (ditto on photos).  I always return to biting. I like biting. 

When my oldest son was 2, he started biting and picking. At first I got on his case about stopping, and then realized how stressful it was for me to have other people tell me what to do about my own fingers. I don't want to engage in a losing battle that will only lead to shame and hiding for him. There is nothing dirtier about this habit than many other habits.  And calling it a "habit" really ignores the compulsive, personality-driven side of it. It's probably hereditary. It probably relates in some ways to the tendency toward anxiety. It definitely relates to other fingers-and-texture related behaviors.  Maybe there's more to be gained from having him understand who he is and give him the power to make his own decisions than from trying to rid him (probably unsuccessfully) of this behavior? 

On Thursday, after my massage, the receptionist pointed out to me that my subscription includes a free manicure or men's haircut.  My husband has his own stylist, so that's a no-go. And I hesitated to accept the manicure because I only get manicures when my nails are grown out and in perfect condition.  I started to turn her down, then stopped myself. Don't short, raggedy nails deserve love, too? Aren't abused cuticles the ones that most need some pampering? Shouldn't my hard-working winter-dried hands get a little pampering? So I said yes. I skipped the polish and thoroughly enjoyed the rest. 

What's funny is that when I talked about it with people, they always offered what they seemed to think was reassurance: "Maybe having manicured nails will help you to stop biting."  Y'all, the point here is that I don't have to stop biting to be a whole, happy person.  I don't want help to stop biting. I know that if I want pretty nails, I'm capable of growing them. I don't need support. 

This week has been big for emotional breakthroughs and healing, and it was interesting to me how accepting my hands, treating them well, and giving myself a break from feeling like there's anything wrong with them became a part of that. It's also interesting how other people didn't understand the "I'm ok the way I am" aspect of it and wanted to offer advice on how to change.  

My hands are small, I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken

::55:: my aching back

This morning I had what may be the BEST massage of my entire life. I'm a high-touch, sensory-seeking person and a really good, deep massage is like soul food for me. 

I always have knots in my shoulders and neck. Always. Today's therapist did amazing work, letting my mind roam around wherever it wanted to go. Occasionally I'd come back to earth and wonder about how muscle fibers work and what the knots are. 

Swiper carries his tension in his shoulders, too. He has two small fractures above his arm joints. I think they may be getting longer. The prognosis is not good.

::54:: bedtime stories

Embarassingly, I was supposed to fill this little book for Reese during the first few months of the school year. Tonight I finally got around to storyboarding it.  With any luck I'll actually DO THIS THING in the next week.

Yesterday I picked up a copy of The Artist's Way at Work. While paging through Julia Cameron's books and making my selection, I read this passage from The Artist's Way: 

Blocked artists are not lazy. They are blocked.

Being blocked and being lazy are two different things. The blocked artist typically expends a great deal of energy---just not visibly. The blocked artist spends energy on self-hatred, on regret, on grief, and on jealousy. The blocked artist spends energy on self-doubt.

The blocked artist does not know how to begin with baby steps. Instead, the blocked artist thinks in terms of great big scary impossible tasks: a novel, a feature film, a one-person show, an opera. When these large tasks are not accomplished, or even
begun, the blocked artist calls that laziness.

Do not call the inability to start laziness. Call it fear.

Oh, did I ever need to read that. What a great change of perspective, and just at a time when I'm reframing some key parts of my life yet again.  The first step in that reframing is in naming and confronting my fears! 

::53:: dive

::52:: mutinous truths

If you are the captain, make sure that your hat is not too big.
The ship will only reach its destination if the crew agrees to the course.
"Good guys" and "bad guys" are relative terms.

 

In the event that you are planning a crafty mutiny:

Facial tissue does not like to be tied in knots.
Colored masking tape can be anything, including dreadlocks.
Beware of marauders carrying sharpies.

 

::51:: what's happening in this picture?

I'm asking you, because I have NO EARTHLY IDEA.  This is how it came to be:

Dan: Will you have time to watch Bones tonight, or will you be working?

Me: I can watch Bones. I'll edit stuff tomorrow afternoon.  All I have to do tonight is take a Swiper picture.

Dan: Yeah, it seems like you usually are doing something else, and then suddenly you'll be working on a Swiper picture (referring to how I pretty much go with it when inspiration calls; I'm impulsive and inspiration is ephemeral).

Me: I had an idea on the way home, but I don't think I can do it today.

Dan: Did it have to do with three chickens and a gallon of paint?

Me: No...(going into daydream mode for 20 seconds)...but maybe chickens and a quarter cup of paint...

So yeah, right at that exact moment I suddenly had to find toy chickens and paint and create a backdrop. The kids were pretty taken with it, while Dan was concerned for Swiper's safety. Perhaps he won't be so glib in the future, eh? At any rate, his offhand comment turned into a half hour or more of photo play and then painting, and then the kids got to make a bubbly mess in the sink while we cleaned up. Swiper looks lovely after his thorough triple bath. 

The kids keep asking me what the story is in the picture. I don't know, and I suggested that they could make up a story. What do YOU think is happening? Why is Swiper covered in blue goo? What are the chickens doing there, and what are they saying? 

::50:: pan's swiper

Having a "no camera for me, please" kind of day, so today's image was created from the photo I took for the banner for this project. I had a lot of fun and like the absurdity of it. Where is the boundary between silly and scary? Can you move the boundary within yourself? I normally can't bring myself to even look at a photo of the nightmarish creature upon whom this image was based, but after modeling Swiper after his likeness, he seemed more of a buffoon than a bogeyman.

I'm reminded now of riddikulus, the spell used in the Harry Pottery books to banish boggarts, which take the form of whatever you fear. The secret of the spell is to dispel the fear by laying it with something incongruous and funny.

What boggarts go bump in the night of your mind? How might you use humor to defeat them?