Help Please!!

I know it's been a while, but life and technology, but life way more than technology got in the way. I'll be back soon, but I just wanted to touch base to say that I just signed up for AIDS walk NY and could use all the help I can get! Log onto my donation page if you have some spare change!!

What is the speed limit around here?

Burned

Caught.
Red handed
How is it that you can see

Things that don't even exist in
My own head?

I'm standing here baring all the layers of hard stone walls
your imposing stare has constructed
With precision, protection from
Infectious complications that you own
The rights to my soul?

No you can't... You don't... I won't let you turn

Ashes to dust
I must Be dreaming
Of this feeling stop
Stealing
The true meaning
Of this thing
We call leaving it all
Behind us.
You left
Me Not with me
Right?
Or wrong?
What's the name of that
Song
We used to sing
A long time ago when we used to be friends?
Always together inseparable
On the road and we didn't even know we were going to turn the
Wrong
way to go.
Turn your head again, and don't you dare share the
Burned
Pieces of the only thing I truly own
Outright lies caused our demise.
Didn't you know I'd always be
Right behind you?
You were in front
Wasn't that good enough?
Your fire was bright enough to blind me
Even though your shadows cast darkness so deep and cold.

All I ever wanted to do
Was to see you
Post a glimmer
The flint of the fire
Not even a spark
But you couldn't even do
That for me
You couldn't admit that you
Were not better than me.
We all host demon events
But you do not have to promote
The coming out parties
Of my skeletons escaping
From the closets I didn't
Think I needed to lock.

Your combination
is not easy
To memorize
The rituals were so translucent
I assumed so were you
But not everything that takes
Gives
Back
Of your head
To my front
Was the only message you had to send
No fire
No light
Your eyes will now hide
You from ever living the truth
That you
Spread the burn
Because you couldn't face
Your turn being taken
By someone like me

Someone who was willing
To let you be seen
Hoping that you could be
The one who they would perceive
Even by my doing
My thinking
My showing you
How beautiful
Your mind
Really is.

You didn't have to put me down
Into the ground
From where we came
How can our high
Be our last stop light
On our way
Down
I thought we would have
Started a fight or two
But we were no where near
There
I thought
I was not right
Not wrong
Either way your gone

Here I am
Blocking the shots
From every direction
Broken glass shattered
And increased the fire
reflections of the fuel
Spreading the burn
Leading the lies
And exaggerated truths
To every living room coffee table top
Conducting
The flames
To play
Me
My vices
My woes
My only you knows
To
The venue
You now rule

And me
I
Am
Dusting




I don't understand the purpose for holding me back. I am not happy with my inability to follow through with a simple, self motivating task. I am at a loss of words juxtaposed on the very thing where they are supposed to be swimming in schools so overcrowded, it's impossible to see the background of the sea.

I have made every effort to make this task an easy and very accessible. I have access everywhere... Mobile, home, work, everywhere. But other things have always taken precedent, and they are not always engaging, or active.

My passive personality is way too powerful.

I guess I am here. So instead of putting the negative out there to be snagged with an eagerly waiting net, I will shift to the right.

Even though there is no proof, I have been leaning right!

I have collected so many materials to use for continuing this journey. I have spread the bug by giving the germ to other people. I have been motivating and motivated. Just haven't shared... At least in this forum.

I have started several journals, a poetry book, crafting, sharing....
Ahhh sharing!!! That is what started my stray ... It has to be.

That I will share next time.

But for now, I must post my next art journal page:

Things you love and why:
I love love love
Love letters.
I used to get them all the time.
Everyday.
Give or take.
But I guess I am not the only one who lost something.

Man,
The World
Has really turned
On us.
Leading us away
From home
Down the yellow brick road.
No wizard
Or shoes
Or even lube
Can entice me enough
So why
Did I even
Look?

An Afterthought...

Popping Thought Bubbles

if i say it,
or even think it
it will become
whole
part of me?...dumb.

Who is out there
with the razor sharp
thought bubble popper?
busting
secrets....privacy stopper.

I keep them there
bubbled up and safe,
so no one will know
the things
that shouldn't be put on show.


You, with the needle-
get away from me
this words are not public
pictures
Mine- not all idea-holics..

Put your detective like tools
and put them to rest
I want to keep what's me, "me"
inside-
my protective cup of tea.


In case you aren't sure,
I know who you are.
Some might not realize
you in
that clever, subtle disguise


And others cannot see,
not from weakness of
sight or of hearing-
Senses?
Ha! You must quit your jeering.

Unlike those without the 
sixth one-the only 
master key worth using
unlock
the gates of your musing.


Yeah, I see you- trying
pretend I don't see 
that it's you- Universe
playing
undertaker with hearse.


Driving down deep- power-
Control of it all.
Thoughts, ideas, destiny
devine
intervener of me.

Do you have to put out
there, each little one?
Or can some stay inside
bubbled,
just thoughts, not my road guide?

A thought-thinked in the brain 
does not have to be,
a foreseen part scripted,
fated-
a message encrypted.


Having you place all my
cards on the table 
does not let me see which
pathway
will lead me to my niche.


Let all the thought bubbles 
linger with purpose.
Not bursting in the air 
forcing
me to walk your doctrinaire.











Okay, so the point?
The last time I wrote, I put it out there that I was probably going to get caught up in "life" when Monday came. I thought about that all week, and even thought I was aware, it didn't make any difference. Just another bit of proof that if you put it out to the Universe, it will soon be. Ugh. Not really what I was hoping for, but I'll take it as a lesson learned, and be more cautious of what I "put out there" from now on. 

The week's worth of daily grind, didn't actually prevent me from my intentions, I have no explanation. None. 

I am catching up now, meeting my obligations to my right brain. 

I finished two pages for the "year in the life" art journal to meet The January challenges.

The first challenge required the choice of a word, one that would represent what you want from this year. 
After hours of thinking about different words, trying to be real, yet not cliche, or typical of a project like this, I came up with "Moment." I went through words like, "One", "together", "now", and maybe a few others. I wanted the word to reflect my goal of paying attention to the little things: the things that really matter.
"Moment" came out of nowhere, so I decided that was the one. 
Here is a photo of what followed:

elf

I traced the hands of all the kiddies, filled in the hands with words that represent each of them, in their respective favorite color. The background repeats the quote from Oprah: "Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you have for sure"


The second challenged required a masking/collage creation based on a personal interpretation of the word "Imagine"

Here is the product:

Just a collection of different things that come across my mind every once in a while.

Enjoy the moment! <3

Another Day...Another Idea

The self - help

book?

For real? was self - pity

out right in front, on top

but still managed

hiding behind that smile, 

that presence, that shine, 

you thinking we knew 

nothing of your true crime

the little black cloud

the dark 

the pajama day 

the movies, in bed

they all told us the 

real underneath

something revealed 

you wanted to seen

that you really were scared 

to come out of the dark

that black little cloud and you

started a spark

and those Three Little Birds?

Yeah, we saw you chase them away, 

as soon as they said:

Everything's Gonna Be Okay.

Just spit out your demons, or troubles

or vices, or what ever you are really 

trying to hide from us.

That backward, twisted, begging-for-me-to-ask-you-

what happened

to a phone call to a friend

When things went a little bad

why now is pity and sympathy 

craved in half - thoughts

part vomit of the psyche

dashes of truth and  

part  "don't worry about me's?"

Just stop airing the laundry-

you better bring it inside,

that little black cloud 

isn't really your enemy?

I know this isn't anything new, and for those out there with high tech software like Photoshop and iMac Laptops, you may already have the access to this cool find.
At picnik you can manipulate and modify your photos, or any photo you find off of the web.
It's more than just modifying the color like some other applications, but the site has this sort of aesthetic appeal, that it is fun to play with your pictures for a bit.

After deciding to make journaling my primary "take-back" or "beg-back" (or whatever you want to call that thing I let go and never should have!) I decided that I needed a little motivation to keep me on track. I always seem to do better at things if I know that someone else may be affected by my lack of participation, so I decided to jump on to the challenge choo-choo, and joined a year long journal challenge with monthly entry challenges. A pretty easy tip of the toe touch into the cool water. Right? So, the host posted the Picnik site and suggested that we all go on and have a photo modified into a pencil sketch. So, I did! And here's the result!

I know it's only my second day, but you might have noticed that both entries start with a composition-cluster-of-catchy-or-not-so-clever-cliches...a.k.a. a poem? Well, I have decided to make that my own personal challenge. I am going to try  to begin each day with some sort of creative crop to force me to stay on top of this raising of the right brain campaign that I am running with myself right now!

Tomorrow is Monday, and it is my fear that tomorrow, I will put the creative creature on the back burner once again, and since I did it Monday, it will be easier for me to do it on Tuesday, then Wednesday, then Thursday, etc. You get my point.


So, I set the challenges, and I think I am really looking to succeed. Anyone willing to jump on as a running partner, or two, or more, let me know! I could always use some other brain to bounce with!!


So far...success??

First Day With My New Wings

I want to rock the socks off of you World!  


I dream 
of standing center stage, 
one single Soul, 
a reflection of p
ink positive-aura crystals 
flicked off 
my magnificence 
from the strike of 
brilliant rays 
of the unnatural light 
shot right at my core by those 
who now have the privilege 
of showing me 
off to the World...
Who is no longer 
pushing up mountains 
or turning me away 
from the warmth of the sun, 
but instead 
He suddenly cannot help...
rather he is mesmerized 
mesmerized? 
by the mere little words?
and melodic trances?
that drip...
drip 
drip
into little ditties 
that have started to seep 
into the holes 
he hasn't yet fixed 
in himself. 
He sees
that I 
am someone with something 
he can use-
ordering the masses to
open up and and lead me down 
the regulaly restricted 
(to all but few)
free-way. 
But to join the rest of the oppressed 
I'd have to stay dreaming. 
And sometimes, 
here, 
dreams just aren't enough, 
I'm really not that big of a person. 
I've been blessed with 
the tiny traits 
that cause me to cower in the 
shadows of those that stand above me. 
Oh no...
no...no...no...
do not peer through pitiful eyes
I do have some things
some really big things, 
 hiding inside 
the little: 
big ideas, 
deep soul, 
ever-expanding mind. 
Sometimes the small 
takes over 
and me and my big stuff  
get anchored to the bottom of my 
southern-most-soles.
Soles that never see the light
never show light
the dark soles 
that only seem to work for me
in an emergency
I'm stuck. 
I can't get through the thick crowds, 
shoulder to shoulder 
general admission 
mashing-moshing-pushing-prodding
 poreless
small spaces,
blocking 
my 
next big thing 
from ever being exposed. 
Truth is, 
even if there was no crowd, 
no roadblock,
no traffic, 
my ideas would probably 
stay within my 
small-overly-cautious-and-ultimately-unsure-frame
unless someone accidentally happened 
to be watching when one little creative crumblet
abruptly burst out of a fumbled think bubble 
due to mental overload and clear confusion. 
Little critter on the lam 
until some pompous tail feathered frenemy 
takes the opportunity to swipe biggie up in the shadows 
and announce her new 
"next big thing" 
through the harsh acoustics 
of an internationally projected 
public address system. 
"That's mine," 
the near hollow heart cries out from its safe crib inside my chest. 
No other part of me can gather up the guts to grieve against this grime. 
Truth is 
I am missing the male parts 
that would hormonally empower me to puff my pecs
put myself out there 
with the possibility of criticism and laughter?
So together we agree to save our Soul, 
who is still glowing pink 
and singing its sweet little soul ditties. 
Funny thing is...
in real life, 
the same insecurities 
and public anxieties exist, 
yet every day, 
I have to put myself 
on a scaled down version 
of my "only in my dreams"
"Rock-Star Princess" stage 
and find the necessary props 
to perform a 
technologically
embedded 
multi-modality-
multi-media-infused
highly engaging-creative-
learner-directed-thoroughly-
state-standard scripted-
song and dance 
entertainment brigade...
Every single day. 
You see, 
I 
personally 
have the paramount players club card 
that give me a free pass beyond the velvet ropes
one of my biggest and most weighty things, 
my career as a middle school:
"Inspiration Inducer"
a.k.a. transmitter of talent
a.k.a. facilitator of fact finding
a.k.a. pseudo step-parent for students
a.k.a. dean of drama dysfunction
a.k.a. implementer of ingenious interventions
a.k.a. English Teacher
a.k.a. Ms. McGlone
a.k.a. Mommy-
Driver-Nurser-Tutor-Friend-Provider-
Personal Shopper-Chef-Maid-Secretary-
Accountant-Launderer-Power of Attorney
Life Coach-Motivational Speaker
WonderingWheretheHeckYouaresoIcanStopWorryingandbethe
Guardian Angel of sorts
to my four fabulous finds 
on off duty hours?
which the job itself clearly has reflective powers because, 
every once in a while,
I just can't seem to get what's wrong. 
Constantly 
questioning my effectiveness
in obtaining the correct access points for this 
very meticulous procedure. 
Then somehow, someway
after weeks of gray days, 
and obvious output from lack of ingested inspiration, 
out of no where, it's like we are in Munchkin Land after the infamous Kansas 
catastrophe 
has killed the big bad witch.

So, there it was. My first ever, but certainly not last, fully composed blog. 

I honestly don't know what took me so long, this is the best outlet for my creativity and desire for social connections. This whole world of available outlets has seriously flooded my spare time with distracting glances at the next loaded page on the Safari app open on my iPhone. 

I know I do have a lot to learn, but I do have a lot to offer as well. The biggest motivator for this forced cold water jump, is the fact that ever since I had Colbie, who is now 5 months old, I really haven't used my strong brain side, and, I am starting to sense a little restless activity going on in the penthouse! 

Colbie is pretty new in this photo. She has grown so much!

Jonah and Matty so serious about their hair!

Noah, has always been my little man!

Well, I shouldn't say that, I did work on her Birth Announcements (which were beautiful-but still incomplete), made her thank you cards (didn't finish those yet either), sewed her very first Halloween costume. had a few hundred elaborate and -stop everything we are doing photo-shoots, -I have to capture this cute outfit. You see Colbie is my first girl after three boys, so I am sure you can imagine what fuss is made over her and the new sense of girliness that she has brought into our world. Her brothers are three really, great kids. We are going through a little bit of some kind of transition right now-testing boundaries-leaping limits-doing as much as they can without getting caught- kind of stuff. Well at least that is true for Matty. It used to be super true for Jonah, but he has been pretty pleasant the last couple of months.  Noah is 10, Jonah will be 9 on Monday, and Matty, will be 8 in April. 


 My little stepping stones are sprouting towards  ceiling stature right before my very eyes. So with all of this and another 10 bags of chips going on at the same time, I kind of allowed structure, routine, daily grind, rat race, TGIF-ing things take over my life. Besides the fact that Colbie now resides in what used to be my ultimate create-space. Now to do anything I have to dig out materials. Make room to engage. Deal with distractions and the other normal-keep you away from what you "want" to do stuff.

While going google crazy one day looking for new ways to motivate and intrigue my students, I came across one of many really great sites I have to share.    Smories : A Site Where they have Stories Read Aloud by Little Kids

 The site is so simple, but really inspiring. For those of you who deal with kids, I think you will really find it entertaining. 

After a few hours  of searching school stuff, I started to notice that accross the board, there has been a landfill of new resources just dumped onto the pages of the web. Overwhelmed with all of the yummy exposure, I was overly eager to get to all of the accessible creative minds out there. 

Besides life's daily dilemma's, I figured out that the relationship I had with my computer has been taken over by my relationship with my iPhone. It isn't only that I really haven't dug through the dirt of the super floods of the search engines, I haven't participated in anything browser led internet activities. I had been overly indulged with the simplified access to the App world. 

It's funny how you don't notice your life changing right before your eyes, until your eyes were open to the fact that you actually missed the things you changed.

Sometimes, a little bit of inspiration is all you need.

It did it for me. I got through quite a bit this weekend. Started Pinning on Pintrest (talk about a time eater- Ohhhh myyyy ...that site should've been arrested for armed robbery! I could not...could not get away. Pins would lead me to other pins, would lead me to blogs, which led me to ideas, then the tutorials for the ideas, then something new I've never seen would lead me to Tumblr (which is another whole new world to me)...which would then lead me back to Pins...you get it. 

So, after occupying multiple browsers on both my laptops and my iPhone fort the last two days, I am pretty satisfied with the amount of inspiration that has flooded my browsers' bookmarks. 

Last night,  I randomly opened this interactive, soul searching book by an actor from "The Office," Rainn Wilson. The book is called Soul Pancake, my mom got it as a free gift when she went to see a taping of the Rachel Ray show. She knew I would really love it, and I do!
So, as a jump start, I randomly opened the book, with Noah sitting in the room with me, and proceeded to work on the suggested "Black Out Poetry" activity. It is pretty much a found poetry activity. You rip out a piece of newspaper, or a magazine, and with a black magic marker (that you did not sniff...heehee silly) you choose a number of words(however many your muse suggests), box them so they stand out, and then proceed to cover the remainder of the paper with Black Magic marker to hide everything but your "Black Out Poem." So as I am getting ready to do this, I notice that Noah had gotten himself a piece of newsprint as well. He was inspired too!! So the two of us completed our poems, and it was actually really nice. I usually don't have the opportunity to discuss the things I do on an empathetic level. And it was a really fun, treasured moment. 

My Black Out Poem

Noah's Black Out Poem

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