Let’s talk about today. I slept in. I usually do on Saturdays, but I really committed to it this morning. Nearly 10 a.m. before I was out of the bed. Joe and Eliot were awake milling about downstairs. I was on snooze. So nice and very much needed.
I came downstairs and got a hair in my ass to make some Bulletproof coffee. We have a normal coffee maker with a built-in Keurig option. I never use K-cups any more, but we got a few pods from Joe’s parents, so I brewed a single cup like a proper wasteful American. Poured that in the large Nutribullet cup with 1/2 tbsp of coconut oil, 1/2 tbsp of Kerrygold butter, and one scoop of a plant-based vanilla protein powder. I can’t remember the brand. I’m lazy. I don’t want to go look. I got it at a random health store in New Jersey last year and it’s nearly gone. I’ve got to figure out how to blend this stuff in my Bullet without it leaking though…can’t figure that out. I think I need an immersion blender. Add that to the ever growing list of random things I’d like to have. But, yeah, that coffee was good. You should try it. Felt full and pumped for my workout.
I’ve been doing the Beachbody routine “Hammer & Chisel” for about 5 weeks now. Today was Chisel Endurance. I’ve done it already a couple times, but I can tell I’m getting a lot stronger. Got it out of the way relatively early, which is abnormal for me. I’d like to be more of a morning exerciser. Some days I get after it; but, man, most days I just can’t do it.
Later in the day we checked out the new super Aldi store that just opened this week. It was busy in there, dudes. Like…a bit much. But we got what we needed and got the hell out. Look forward to going in there when the novelty wears off and I can return to my typical relaxed Aldi shopping experience…ha! This is my store, assholes. GET OUT! I feel like Cartman at Cartmanland when he has to wait in lines. Hire more people, Aldi. Get it together.
I feel like this is a wasted blog post. But I told myself I need to write more. I may have bored you to death. But, in the words of the most fabulous Beyonce Knowles, I ain’t sorry.
Before I even launch into it, I’m listening to this Spotify mix called “Lush Vibes” and really blissing out. Check that shit out.
Onward with the word vomit — I’ve been super swamped with sewing projects lately. A lot of commissions. Not complaining, believe me…it feels good to be pursued for my talents. But, damn, I have no time. Working 40 hours a week (and we’ve been BUSY), juggling household duties, my son back in school, etc. etc. has made it fairly challenging to squeeze in time in a day for the thing I actually enjoy doing. On top of that, I have gotten back into exercising regularly. Not that I hadn’t before, but I’m serious with it in that I am back to challenging myself, topping goals, getting higher reps, running faster and longer. I signed up for a Savage Race (I mean, shit, it’s not until next summer, but whatever) and I have this intense and renewed desire to just kick all the ass. Be the healthiest me. Feel super comfortable with how I look, yes, but also super confident with how well my body performs. And, of course, the ever present (but true) cliche of setting a good example for my kid.
With this renewed vigor for healthy living, I’ve been perusing instagram accounts and reading other people’s stories…because it’s just what you do. You look for someone that’s on a similar journey and you get inspired. It keeps you focused and motivated. I’ve noticed a lot of people into this beachbody thing. While I’m not solely in the business of weight loss, I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a part of the equation. I do see a lot of different types of girls, not just your typical “fitness model Barbie” basic chicks into this stuff. I see a lot of them do coaching and I’ve been researching it. Of course I’ve been intrigued. I’ve considered jumping on the bandwagon, but adding more to my plate right now seems fool hardy. Also, do I really want to push stuff on people? Not particularly. I am everyone’s counselor in my life though it seems and for that it intrigues me further. Basically, I haven’t ruled it out, but I still think it’s wise to focus my time mostly on keeping my head above water and getting this sewing thing on course.
I am aware I say it all the time, but I know I can’t do this full time corporate grind forever. I’m motivated and I’ll find my niche elsewhere eventually, I’m sure. Until then, I’ll just continue to vibe and live as fully as possible.
Things are finding me. Which is pleasant. I’ve always been a Romantic like that. I’m open.
Picked up this Walt Whitman bio from Caliban bookstore in Pittsburgh a couple months ago. I was drawn to it. Green is my favorite color. Thick books make me salivate. When I opened the cover I saw the lovely drawing and I was certain I wouldn’t regret the purchase. Was never deep into Whitman, though I am cognizant that he is a spirit that has followed me throughout my teenage and adult life. Figured I should start following him in return. A mutual soul-stalking if you will.
Walt is encouraging my inner wanderer. She’s always been there, but I’m sure she could use a hell of a lot more breathing room. Less anxiety and worry. Less pressure. Kicking against the pricks.
I walk every day during my lunch break. Sometimes I have lovely company, sometimes I go it alone. An hour doesn’t seem like a very long time for introspection and observation. I suppose it depends on what you do with that hour. It can go really fast. It can slowly drag on. Time is relative like that (that’s right, I said it. Throw your watch on the fire…maybe, that’s a little hasty, but whatever).
What things can you see in an hour? Where can you go? Just wander aimlessly. It’s freeing. Crank some tunes and find out! Walked an old familiar way, but I managed to see new things.
(Music of choice this gloomy afternoon is Mitski’s new album “Puberty 2″…exquisite, by the way, holy hell).
I sat by the water for a bit and watched a playful Chihuahua wearing a bandana chase his tail in the grass. His owner, a thin, older man, gleamed just as much joy as I did from watching the little turd having the time of his life. I smiled as I walked back to work. Vibes in the air, y’all.
A couple of days ago I spotted a lonely paintbrush on the ground. I was compelled to take a picture of it.
Was it discarded on purpose? Maybe the guy painting the building facade across the street threw it at a passing car being driven by his archenemy. Maybe it was in someone’s back pocket and slipped out quietly to make a life all its own (I’m reminded of the Blur video “Coffee & TV”).
It was really the randomness of it that made me stop and take the photo. Or was it random? Is anything really random? I think that less so the deeper I dive into myself and my connection to my environment and the world and universe. Interconnectedness.
Later in the day my husband informed me he had finished painting the front porch. The same grey color that was on this outcast, little brush.
On the surface, I don’t think that it really means much. But it doesn’t make it any less fantastic about how, when tuned into the present moment, you can make a connection between just about anything. Therein lies the meaning, probably. What makes life worth showing up to every day. Wander. Wonder. The world is constantly speaking to us.
I’ve drawn some stuff lately that I plan to sew, too.
A consistently encouraging friend of mine has been pushing me to apply for the arts festival again next year. I think I will listen and work towards that. That’s right. I’m going to listen. Less expectations, more openness. I’ve been letting it seep in my skin this year as much as I can.
Ya know, I used to like Courage the Cowardly Dog…until my kid started watching it on Netflix. I’ve seen the episode where some apparition keeps saying “Return the slab!” about 4 million times. It’s on right now. Like, seriously, someone stab my ear canals, please.
Got a lot done around the house today. My front porch looks immaculate. Ok, that’s an exaggeration, but it does look pretty nice for the time being. Scrubbed some more on the back deck. Cicadas were dive bombing me the entire time. Once those fuckers have started mating, the males are particularly aggressive. Look, I am not a tree, and I am not your mate. I think you guys are cool. You don’t scare me, but back the shit off. Get away from my face.
I’ve started work on a new patch. A while back I made a patch called “Meow-issey” of Morrissey as a cat.
I told myself I was going to start a series of musicians as cats. Because, why not? My newest venture is a Robert Smith cat patch. Will probably add a felt backing to it once it’s complete.
I’ve had the striped fabric forever. But, recently my kid and I experimented with some tie dye, so I added the purple to mix it up a bit. I am pleased with myself for 1) delving a little deeper into full stitching…not just making outlines like I did when I first started embroidery. It’s cool to see how I’ve progressed; and 2) that I am sewing this new patch on a colored fabric instead of white or light colored. When I was just focused on the outline, it was kind of hard to do it on anything but a white background. Growth and stuff, man. I’m getting better.
Remember this blog? Barely. But it was the first one I actually kept regularly. Too bad I just up and deleted most of the old entries. I’m just not there anymore. Not that I’m ashamed of my past or anything, I just don’t feel they have a home here any longer. Though there’s also no point in deleting the blog altogether. shapelessflame has always been ME. It’s a line from one of my favorite poems by John Donne “Air and Angels.”