I've written so little lately that I fear I can no longer call myself even a pseudo-writer. Life has been busy around these parts, even if my life consists only of myself and my two dogs and the occasional foreigner who crosses my path. So many things have been running around in my head lately, though, and one of them has been the roadblock to writing that seems to linger around me. I had a conversation with my dear Lawrence recently about this and explained to him that what holds me back in my craft is my fear of breaking the rules. Half my friends are killing themselves with laughter and coughing up lungs at that last statement. Let's give them a minute to catch their breath. What I fear is having my name attached to something that goes against the grain of what I've been taught. This is a serious issue to me because much of what I believe and think today very much goes against what I was taught as a child. You've seen the progression here in this blog even though I...

It's Friday night, and I'm still sitting here in Starbucks after submitting my latest assignment for the graduate course I'm currently taking. The weight of the week is settling in my eyelids, and I have a race in the morning, but I'm not quite ready to go back home and climb into bed. This is one of those moments when I wish the rest of the world operated on my schedule, but it doesn't, so I figured I'd hop on here with a little update because...well...my BFF, the Internet, seems to always be there for me when I need it. I've been really bad about updating the blog, and it's partially because I've been so unbelievably busy trying to tread water at work that I haven't even had the time to run or wash dishes or even write. It's also because I feel the need to pull back a little and share a little less. This applies more to my personal life with my friends, but apparently, the effects are evident here as well. I'm hoping to find a corner of...

A few months ago, I asked a friend which three famous people from history he would like to meet--you know, in the event that we discover black holes really are portals for time travel. One of the people he mentioned was the South American poet, Pablo Neruda , because he wanted to ask him how he was able to say "te amo" so easily. The conversation that ensued about the ease of which those words roll off our tongues has been stuck in my head ever since. Like anyone else who has walked through the path of divorce, mine has been a path of self-exploration. I've spent a lot of time in the last year and a half exploring my thoughts and feelings on love and marriage. This path has challenged much of what I used to believe and, at the same, brought me new insights into the exhilaration, comfort, and perils of two people trying to forge a piece of their lives together. What I've discovered is that the words "te amo" tend to roll of my tongue fairly easily, but not al...

Here are the photos I contributed to yesterday's merriment in arts. This one represents fire. It is a shot of a theater in Charleston, SC. This is the water at one of my favorite local beaches: Barefoot Beach. This is the trunk of a palm tree at the Naples Botanical Gardens. This is the misty air rolling through the Andes at Machu Picchu in Peru.

If you saw the stacks of week old dirty dishes with fish residue sitting in the sink or the menagerie of student papers to be graded, fast food bags, and clothes I stripped off as I walked in the door last week, you might want to join my grandmother's club and ask me what I was thinking yesterday. Yeah...I'm behind. So what? Yesterday, my dear friend Katelyn hosted her second bi-annual Collaborative Arts Experiment to raise money for our local Arts in Healthcare program. I participated in March and had so much fun that I just HAD TO do it again. Even if it coincided with the start of a new graduate class and interim grades. It also interfered with football, but who's counting? This time I was a little out of my element because I did not write or perform. My creation was finished before the show began. Our theme was interconnectivity and through a lot of discussion, we landed on the idea of creating a web with interconnected items attached to it. Along the way, we added a p...

For the last month or so I've been going through a transformation that has resulted in a few changes in my life. For one thing, I've made it a point to go to the beach once a week to just sit alone for an hour. I've also started journaling--old-school style--again and have filled numerous pages with thoughts both random and not so random. The whole point of this is to get in touch with the core of my being so I can make the best possible decisions for my life. I'll be honest with you. Being still is still a challenge. I'm not always comfortable with the thoughts that rumble through my head because they scare me and make me want to judge them. I don't always like that feeling I get when I stumble across a truth for my life that requires a change because I really don't like change. However, I'm getting better at it, and in the process I've discovered some really interesting things. The most obvious is that I NEED that still time more than anything else...

I always carry one of my Moleskin writing books with me wherever I go. Since I have several, I tend to just grab whichever is nearest to me. This morning I took the black book I carried with me to Peru. The poems scribbled there made me cry, and I thought I'd share a few of them here. Happy Anniversary Ten years ago today I said, "I do." Two words. A promise that only young fools think they can keep for a lifetime. And it rained... so hard that my hair curled and my mascara slid beneath my eyes-- black tracks. And we laughed in front of your father's camera that we filled with memories in black and white. And we didn't know what waited for us behind the veil of years. The secrets hiding in hotel rooms. The animosity lurking in our hidden losses. And how we've changed. I woke this morning in another world and sat by the other ocean. Alone. Strong. Independent. I found my voice in Spanish. And if I could go back Ten years I'd do it again--the same, because i...

Well, now. The school year has been back in full swing for two weeks now, and we've all survived to enjoy our first long weekend. Everyone keeps asking about how it feels to be back at work and wonders about the behavior of my students. I switched to a different department this year, and so far I am happy with it. I'll spare the details because they aren't interesting at all to anyone who doesn't teach (and only minutely interesting to my fellow educators). If you know me, you know that teaching in the public school system was never in my plan for my life. However, there's no doubt in my mind that I was destined to do this for whatever limited time I give to it. I taught seventh grade for four years, and I it was an extremely healing experience for me. Many things that happened and conversations that occurred helped me soothe the wounds that I incurred during my own seventh grade year. Wounds that followed me well into adult hood. I've always said that I needed ...

I suppose it's finally time to admit that summer is over. After all, I've been back in the trenches of work for a week now. Late leisurely mornings, fridge raiding, and untimed bathroom breaks are well behind me. Before me are lesson plans, essay scoring, and more than a few "This is boring!"s. Madre de Dios, the dawn of a new school year is fabulous! Hence, the prose. I'm feeling a bit guilty, though, that I didn't exactly keep my promise to chronicle my summer through poetry. Oh, if I could show you the pages of my traveling writer's journal, you could see that I did write a lot. Yes, I wrote. A lot. I think this could be called the "Summer of Writing." It's like I finally found my voice again, and along the way I've discovered some very important truths about my craft. True writing is fluid and never ending, and much of what has made it from my head to paper is still in fragment form, like a soul waiting to for a body. You might be sur...

Prepared we were not to cross Captain Jack's path late in the summer of ten, with the sun bearing down as we wandered the town where the Koreshans once lived. But he nodded. We smiled and went on our way, rolling it all in our heads. We giggled and talked and suddenly stopped to turn back and run after him. You see love for a pirate and sailing the seas rest deep in a gypsy girl's soul, where she dreams of the day he will take her away to find a new place in the world. So we followed his swagger as he wound through the woods and stopped to take in the sights. You know when chance comes to call you must answer with all because sometimes she doesn't seek twice. There we tracked Captain Jack on the seashell lined path and dreamed of the life that he lived With his swashbuckling ways that man made our day late in the summer of ten. You know love for a pirate and an adventurer's life lie deep in a gypsy girl's soul, where she dreams of the world she has yet to explore an...

I am a work of art. Que linda! Hair that curls wildly in misty ocean air. Azure eyes the color of the sky in summer. Hips that cast slithering shadows in the moonlight. I am an impossible cause. Que unica! A restless spirit that longs to roam. A wish on a star falling from the moonless sky. In the magical place where hope and imagination collide.

I want to slip into my skin... stitch it up feel it pressed against my bones and stretched across my ligaments. Where I can explore and examine... what it knows what it holds within memories of me and the stories that it's told. It seems that I've forgotten the wishes and feelings that once stirred beneath my flesh and danced within my dreams. Can I find them again... if I walk around in my skin stretched across my shell of a skeleton and touch with my own feet and touch with my own hands what I cannot touch in the dark?

Now that I'm officially home and feeling the exhaustion of the last two weeks seep out of my veins and into the corners of my eyes, I'm thinking about my trip to Peru. Peru is a phenomenal place, and the people there are wonderful. It's hard to put the experience into just a few words, but I figured I would try with a top ten list. So here goes (in no particular order)... 10. The look on the receptionist's face when I told him I had been eating the menu el dia while in Peru (and not knowing what I ate for lunch one day). 9. Discovering that I can carry on a conversation in Spanish (with a few "no se como decir in espanol...un momento, por favor" requests thrown in) and being told that I speak Spanish like a Spaniard. 8. Writing on the balcony of my hotel room with a view of the Andes and the Urubama River as accompaniment. 7. Sitting on the steps of the Lima Cathedral and watching World Cup games with the Peruvians in the Plaza Mayor in Centro Lima. 6. Walking...

Dejé mi diccionario en mi carro en los estados unidos. Y ahora no recuerdo como decir "leave" en espanol. Yo se esta palabra. Te prometo. Yo se la. Pero no la recuerdo ahora cuando necisito la usar. ***translation*** I left my dictionary. in my car in the United States. And now I cannot remember how to say "leave" in Spanish. I know the word. I promise you. I know it. But I cannot remember it now when I need to use it.

Do you see the way the wrinkles crease the corners of my mouth? Did you catch the edges raise into an imperfect, crescent--flesh colored? Can you find the light that sparkles and twinkles as it dances in my eyes? I swallowed a secret. It's mine. I'd like to share it with you, but I can't. I swallowed a secret. It's mine.

I want to be free of mistrust that shackles the heart and judgments that bind the soul. I want to explore and embrace what this life has to give me and follow the path that unfolds. I want to bask in my bliss, in my wonder of life and the beauty that is who I am. I want to be true to the me in the core of my depths that no one seems to understand.

Summer vacation has officially begun, and I was thinking today about how dangerous this unrestricted time can be. It will be a busy summer this year, filled with at least one trip out of the country, a rollercoaster weekend, another artists' retreat, Spanish class, rockstar photos, lots of writing, and a new running regimen. Oh, and my University of Florida graduate class. I've recently fallen for my first love all over again. Poetry. I'm reading it, writing it, listening to it, and talking about it. In English and Spanish. Ah. With that in mind, my plan this summer is to chronicle my days through poetry. We'll see how this turns out.

"This is my dream, and I'll decide where it goes from here." This is one of my favorite lines from the movie, "Alice in Wonderland." I finally saw it this afternoon, and it resonated with me. Actually, much of what's happened to me in the last week has resonated with me like this. It's exciting...and a bit frustrating. It's no secret that I've been ensconced in the Spanish language lately. My Peru trip has necessitated this. For the last six months, I have watched many, many movies in Spanish, listened to a lot of Spanish music, and tried to communicate in the language whenever possible. I know that every other word out of my mouth has been related to Spanish. I get it. I was out on the lawn mower this afternoon listening to "Como Lo Tienes Tu" and thinking about some of the comments I've heard lately about my entertainment habits. Seriously, why does anyone care what I do in my spare time? However, in the middle of my internal rant...

Sunday night, after the sun set, I found myself in my front yard with Winnipeg. Something snapped under my feet, and I started running as fast as I could...wearing flip flops. And it felt so good to feel my legs push my body forward as my feet touched and lifted off the ground. My lungs filled with air. Good air that they have been craving. I felt like I was flying. Dogs are the perfect companion for such random moments, and she jumped right into the game. She's a faster runner than I am, and she can be a bit frightening to watch barreling forward because you think she won't stop. But she usually does. I'm still smiling at the thought of me and my dog running like maniacs in the front yard. As fast as we could. And laughing loudly. And not caring who might have seen it. Feet touch ground. Lift off. Pushes me forward. Flying. Lungs fill with air. Exhale. Pushes me forward. Satiated. Legs jump in the night. Dodges. Pushes me forward. Delight. Here there is no finish line. We ...

The Nature of Love. They were the truest words I ever spoke. I love you, now and for always not because we are one ...together, but because you're you and I am me. This was our moment. It was beautiful. It is beautiful. It will always be. (c) 2010 Waking Up * Lo siento. No entiendo. Las estrellas estan en el cielo, pero quiero ocultar mi cara de ellos . Las olas bailan en el mar, pero quiero correr antes ellos cogerme. Todo acerca de mi es vida. pero siento un poco de muerte. (c) 2010 *Here's the translation... I'm sorry. I don't understand. The stars are in the sky, but I want to hide my face from them. The waves dance in the sea, but I want to run before they catch me. All around me is life, but I feel a little death.