“Certain moments send adrenaline to the heart, dry out the tongue, and clog the lungs. Like thunder they drown you in sound, no, like lightning they strike you across the larynx.” ~ Claudia Rankine, from Citizen: An American Lyric

French apartment of a Mrs. DeFlorian, found unchanged for 70 years.*

“The wind of longing blows to your right, from the orange groves, and to your left, from the sea salt. A fog, approaching the chambers of your heart from the north, makes it difficult for memory to distinguish what is private from what is public ” ~ Mahmoud Darwish, from In the Presence of Absence (Trans. by Sinan Antoon)

Saturday afternoon, cloudy and cold, 34 degrees, winter storm warning.

I spent the entire day yesterday alone, just the animals and me. It’s the first full day into evening that I’ve been entirely alone. I didn’t mind it. It made me think of how originally the plan was that Corey would go to sea for a few months, and I would be here alone with the animals. I was fully prepared to embrace that, although I’m not sure if Corey believed that.

Marthe DeFlorian painting by Giovanni Boldini found in apartment

Before moving here permanently, I wrestled with the idea of loneliness versus being alone, and truthfully being alone does not make me feel lonely. I know, though, that if I had been in a better place with both of my sons before I left, that it might be different, that the loneliness might be more present. I mean, the person I miss the most is Alexis. I miss seeing her and talking to her, however briefly our encounters might have been. I miss my sons constantly, but it’s not so immediate as the lack of my daughter, if that makes sense. The way in which I miss them is an internal ache that is always there, but I have become accustomed to it.

I never thought that I would be saying something like that.

But as far as being lonely? No, not so much. I miss fast access to any kind of food and easy access to my physicians. I miss the idea of living in Norfolk and being able to see my parents’ house anytime I needed to, or being able to ride over to where my other mother used to live just to see the house for a few minutes. I miss those ideas of things.

“Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow” ~ T. S. Eliot, from “The Hollow Men”

I have always known that I don’t need a lot of people around me. My friends have been few but fast. And as an only child, you become comfortable with the idea of yourself. You have to. No matter how much I told my parents that I wanted siblings when I was a child, I always kind of knew that I’d never have any.

Being an only can be very lonely, but it can also make you able to withstand things that people with siblings might not be able to withstand alone—like death. I never had siblings to lean on during tough times. It was just me, the dogs, and to some extent, my parents. Whenever we lost a dog when I was a child, I grieved alone. I would go into myself and just deal. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I learned to build walls and had a harder time taking them down. Who knows . . .

Look. I know that for a lot of people siblings are a burden. Not everyone loves, let alone gets along with their siblings. Brothers and/or sisters can be an incredible pain, especially if there is a big age difference, and brothers/sisters who grew up very close can grow apart as years pass. That’s what I saw happen to my sons, who were the best of friends when they were young but who became one another’s nemeses as they got older. That bothered me, but you cannot control your children’s emotions. A hard reality.

Still, I always wanted a sister.

You fear for the present stifled by the hegemony of the past and fear for the past from the absurdity of the present. You do not know where to stand at this crossroads.” ~ Mahmoud Darwish, from In the Presence of Absence (Trans. by Sinan Antoon)

Perhaps if I had a sister, this alone thing would be different. I’ll never know now. The person most like a sister to me for so many years is now in a different city, living a different life, and liking me not at all, for a variety of reasons, some of which I will never even know or understand.

But getting back to the idea of loneliness—I do not claim to be immune from the emotion. There have been times when I have been so lonely that I just wanted to find a dark closet and hide. I remember being very lonely in my first marriage. In fact, I remember one day standing at the bedroom window and watching my then spouse drive away, going to work, and just holding my hand to the windowpane and weeping. I don’t remember the why, only the what. It’s not a good memory.

And when our marriage fell apart, I would spend many weekends alone while the kids visited with their father, and the house seemed too big to hold me. In fact, I went to my boss at the time and told him to schedule me for every Saturday because I didn’t have a life. The arrangement worked well for both of us. If I was working, I didn’t have to think about the state of my life, so I worked a lot.

“Rising from the past, my shadow
Is running in silence to meet me.” ~ Anna Akhmatova, from “The souls of those I love are on high stars” (trans. A. S. Kline)

My job, my career was always important to me, always an extension of my self, but never my total identity once my children were born. But before that, I relished the self-importance of my career, the power, the seeming limitless ways in which I could grow and prosper. The thing is that it was only years later that I realized that while I considered myself a groundbreaking female in a mostly man’s world, my ability to grow and prosper was always hampered by the positions I held simply because I was a woman. Funny, that.

I once had to make the case for being paid more than certain males because I had more education and experience, and they were just out of college. That shouldn’t have happened, but it did. I did win that argument, by the way, but that’s the kind of thing I faced regularly. I know that things have gotten better for women in the workplace, but that’s not to say that sexism does not still exist. We all know that it does . . .

Ah, but that was then, as they say.

Now? Now, I have no job, no career, no profession, unless I own up to the fact that writing is a profession, well, maybe for other people. It’s just that I’ve never made money with my writing, never even tried, even though I’ve had probably hundreds of ideas for books. So I refrain from calling myself a writer because it’s not like I’ve ever done anything with it.

Are you what you were, or what you are now? You fear you will forget tomorrow while mired in the question: In which time do I live?” ~ Mahmoud Darwish, from In the Presence of Absence (Trans. by Sinan Antoon)

Which brings me to the Darwish quotes, which are from one longer passage that I broke up for the purposes of this post. It’s this last part really: “Are you what you were, or what you are now?”

That’s the real question, isn’t it? Who am I? Who do I want to be? Is that the same person I wanted to be before or different? In which time do I live?

I live in all of them, really. My past is so intricately woven into my present that it’s impossible to separate them. But my present self is so very different from my past self that sometimes I have a hard time reconciling the two. I care little for money, or fame, or things, or what anyone else has. In fact, more and more, I am genuinely put off by the excesses of life today.

Will I always want to buy and to own books? Of course. But do I need a big house with a separate library just for my books? No. Maybe my answer would be different if I still owned the hundreds and hundreds of books that I once had, but I lost those when we lost the storage unit, so there’s that. Losing a collection like that, over 1,000 books, changes you, definitely.

But possessions? Thousand dollar purses or shoes? What good would they do me? My house is old. My furniture is old. My clothes, for the most part, are old. And you know what? I like old things. It’s another thing that my mother never understood, my love for things with history. If you showed me a brand new chair that was the perfect color of red, and placed an old Queen Anne covered in faded red brocade beside it, there’s no questions to which I would be drawn. History over new. Worn over pristine.

So ultimately, standing at the crossroads between past and present, more than likely I just wouldn’t move, I think, which is why I find myself always wondering in which time I really live.

More later. Peace.

*All images are taken from the former apartment of Mrs. DeFlorian, a Parisian woman who fled before the German occupation of WWII. The apartment was found to be exactly as she left it when it was opened in 2010. For an article on this beautiful artifact, go here.

Music by Julia Brennan, “Inner Demons”


A Person Protests to Fate

A person protests to fate:

“The things you have caused
me most to want
are those that furthest elude me.”

Fate nods.
Fate is sympathetic.

To tie the shoes, button a shirt,
are triumphs
for only the very young,
the very old.

During the long middle:

conjugating a rivet
mastering tango
training the cat to stay off the table
preserving a single moment longer than this one
continuing to wake whatever has happened the day before

and the penmanships love practices inside the body.

~ Jane Hirshfield, as found on poets.org

Monday Maquillage

Coiffure (Oshidori-mage) by Uemura Shoen,1916
“Coiffur (Oshidori-mage),” by Uemura Shoen, (1916, Wikiart)
“A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.” ~ Virginia Woolf, from “The Death of the Moth and Other Essays”

Monday afternoon. Sunny and cooler, 46 degrees.

“After the Bath,” by Ito Shinsui (1929, WIkiart)

Today’s post debuts my new category: Monday Maquillage, which will focus on my most recent forays into all things beauty related, like makeup, skincare products, tools, etc. As I had mentioned, I’ve spent roughly the last three years obsessed with all things makeup related, rather than spending time on here writing simply because it was an easier distraction. And if you find it ironic that a self-professed hermit bothers with makeup, you wouldn’t be wrong. I mean, do I wear it for the dogs? No. My spouse? No. Who then, you might wonder . . .

Well, me. I buy makeup and skincare items for me—because I like to, because I enjoy it, and do I really need a reason to have an obsession with makeup brushes and Korean skincare? Not really.

Anyway, I thought that since I’ve been doing so much research in these areas, that I would share some of my finds with you on a semi regular basis, depending on the weather, my whims, and your responses (if there are any). So without further adieu . . .

“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.” ~ David Richo, from The Power of Coincidence

One of my best finds over the last few years is rosehip oil. I know, sounds weird, right? But hear me out. Prior to discovering facial oils, I eschewed anything oil related because my skin has always been oily. To combat that, I used a lot of alcohol based things like toners and cleansers, and I tended to go for anything oil-free, but in spite of this, I always felt like I had an oil slick on my forehead by noon. When I was still working full time, I used to retouch my makeup at lunchtime because most of it had melted by then.

Molivera Rosehip OilThen I read a post by someone that literally changed my entire approach to oil. In this post (sorry, author long forgotten), the woman said that the more we try to combat facial oil with the kinds of products that I had been using for a very long time, the more oil our skin will produce because we’ve stripped all of the natural oils from our skin. To compensate, our skin produces more oil. Makes sense, right?

So if you use oil as a moisturizer or as a cleanser, your skin becomes more balanced. I can testify to this because I no longer have an oil slick on my forehead by noon. The oil that I’ve been using is by Molivera Organics, and it can be found on Amazon, for around $12 for 4 ounces, such a good buy.

“What is my worth, if I cannot be attractive? What is my worth, if I cannot attract attention?  . . . The language of feminism was meant to answer those question by reminding women, and men who live outside the self-prescribed boxes of gender, that your worth is inherent, it arrived when you were born, it stays with you long after you die.” ~ Chinwe Ohanele, from “Afromentality-Shame”
“In the Bath,” by Torii Kotondo (1929, Wikiart)

In a related vein, another product that has become a staple in my skincare regimen is a toner, specifically Thayers Alcohol-Free Toner, in Rose Petal with Aloe Vera; a 12 ounce bottle on Amazon costs around $7.60. I say around when quoting Amazon prices because prices go up and down, and I pay less for some things that I have on my subscription with them.

This toner contains witch hazel, to which some people may be sensitive, but I find that it does wonderful things for my skin. I use this immediately after washing my face in the morning and before using my essence.

The essence is part of my Korean skincare routine, which I’ll save for a later post as it’s pretty involved. But let me just say that my skin looks better now than it did when I was 20 or even 30. Yes, I know that part of that is because of my good genes, but another large part of it is that I now know more about my skin than I did in my youth. Trust me, you are never too old to incorporate a good skincare regimen into your days and nights.

“There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportion.” ~ Edgar Allan Poe, from “Ligeia”

Let me just pause here to say that I never thought that I’d be writing about makeup and skincare on this blog, never thought that I’d have a post category called “Monday Maquillage” (French word for makeup). In fact, once I stopped working and went out on disability, I went several years without wearing any makeup at all, and my skincare routine consisted of using facial wipes and washing my face in the shower with a pretty strong exfoliator.

“Before the Mirror,” by Ito Shinsuie (1916, Wikiart)

So what changed? Well, I changed, not fundamentally in my beliefs or my politics, but in my approach to myself. I decided to spend a little more time on self-care, like primping. That, and I discovered subscription boxes, both the bane and boon of my everyday existence.

Man, I really wish that I had thought of selling people monthly subscriptions to makeup, skincare, food, snacks, cigars, wines, socks, whatever . . . It’s such a simple idea that has blossomed into a major business, in part as a response to the public’s desire to do more shopping online as opposed to brick and mortar stores.

Anyway, I began simply, as most people do, with a single, $10 monthly subscription to Ipsy, one of the more popular monthly subs, but then, as with most things in which I find an interest, things spread from there. My love affair with subs is also a post for another time. I just wanted to mention how I got on this whole beauty kick in the first place. In fact, I once tried to convince Corey that if he opened an online store selling nothing but Korean skincare and makeup that he’d rake it in. He didn’t listen to me, and now that market has exploded. Oh well . . .

So that’s about all for today, just two mentions of two very affordable products, and as with most things about which I opine, there will be more later.

Peace.


Music by Sara Bareilles, “She Used to be Mine”


Roses Only

You do not seem to realise that beauty is a liability rather than
   an asset—that in view of the fact that spirit creates form we are justified in supposing
     that you must have brains. For you, a symbol of the unit, stiff and sharp,
   conscious of surpassing by dint of native superiority and liking for everything
self-dependent, anything an

ambitious civilisation might produce: for you, unaided to attempt through sheer
   reserve, to confute presumptions resulting from observation, is idle. You cannot make us
     think you a delightful happen-so. But rose, if you are brilliant, it
   is not because your petals are the without-which-nothing of pre-eminence. You would look, minus
thorns—like a what-is-this, a mere

peculiarity. They are not proof against a worm, the elements, or mildew
   but what about the predatory hand? What is brilliance without co-ordination? Guarding the
infinitesimal pieces of your mind, compelling audience to
   the remark that it is better to be forgotten than to be remembered too violently,
your thorns are the best part of you.

~ Marianne Moore

“Put high walls around the part of you that dreams . . . ” ~ Fernando Pessoa, from “Advice” (trans. Edwin Honig and Susan M. Brown)

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday evening, misty and milder, 52 degrees.

Yesterday’s post took more out of me than I had anticipated, so today, I’m falling back on one of my favorite kinds of posts. I don’t have too  many in my collection yet, obviously, but I like these. Enjoy.


I will never not love “The West Wing,” and CJ most of all:

Irony in light of the recent movie:

ultrafacts:</p> <p>(Fact Source) For more facts, follow Ultrafacts </p> <p>

Love this:

Source: [x] Click HERE for more facts!

Music by Mansionair, “Easier”

“We are going to make sure that every vote is counted – because in a civilized nation, the machinery of democracy should work everywhere for everyone.” ~ Stacey Abrams, Georgia Gubernatorial Candidate (D)

historic female firsts 2018
(From left to right) Rashida Tlaib, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Sharice Davids, Ilhan Omar and Ayanna Pressley (Getty)

“Kemp’s actions during the election were textbook voter suppression . . . [they] were strategic, careless and aimed at silencing the voting power of communities of color in the state.” ~ Derrick Johnson, NAACP President

I love that Brian Kemp declared himself the victor in a race that is almost certain to go to a runoff. I guess we all need to dream (nice way of saying that he’s deluded). At least he finally resigned his Georgia Secretary of State position, something he should have done before he started his suppression tactics.

Anyway, as of today, votes are still being tallied in many races, including that bastion of questionable close races: Florida. Of course we can count on 45 to make another stupid Twitter comment about it: “Law Enforcement is looking into another big corruption scandal having to do with Election Fraud in #Broward and Palm Beach.”

Republican Senatorial candidate Gov. Rick Scott started yelling fraud as soon as the margin began to close between him and Florida’s incumbent Democrat Bill Nelson. David Becker, a former Justice Department voting-rights lawyer, commented that “these counties haven’t even finished counting ballots. This is all about winning and nothing about fraud, but it comes at the cost of delegitimizing our own democracy.”

Nevertheless, Democratic gains as of today are 30 seats in the House, with about 12 races still too close to call. This year’s midterms were significant for so many reasons, not the least of which was the incredibly diverse slate of candidates. According to an article in Market Watch, “At least 244 lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender candidates ran for office on all levels of government this year, including 21 candidates for Congress and four for governor.”

More importantly, with a record number of women voting, running, and winning, this race saw an historic number of firsts for women: first Muslims, youngest, first Latinas, first women of color, first Native Americans. In January, women will comprise 22 percent on Congressional makeup (up from 20 percent); still not enough, but definitely better than before. This article lists details.

More later. Peace.


Music by Janelle Monáe, “Q.U.E.E.N., featuring Erykah Badu (sorry, accidentally put the John Lennon song here first)