Dancing With Monsters

Some days

Today I can see and hear and feel the wanting and grabbing that this season stirs up. I know I am not supposed to talk about it. But how can I ignore it?Such suffering and loneliness special to the times.I can witness it. Sometimes I think it is all I can do. Watch. Be there. Be with. Some days that is all I have. Maybe it is always that way and days like today just lift a veil.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Made it Spartanburg

for the second installment of the holiday visit home. Now I am in my younger sister's basement chilling with the dogs before she and the boys come back. Silence before the madness ensues. And I am tired.
The LaQuinta in Columbia was fine -not a scary place and great for the pets. Why is it that I have so many great things to say until I sit down to blog? What is that about?
I saw some pretty, um, amazing? Christmas sweaters at Panera here in Spartanburg. I took a photo of one and was going to post it but that just felt mean somehow. Is it mean?
I feel tired and tried from the visit with my father. Lots of thoughts to collect. Lots that I want to share that I think you can relate with.Cause parents growing older and dealing with illness is not an uncommon topic. It still sucks.
How eloquent.
I'll stop there for now.

Smoke in my hair

Tonight I found myself waiting in a bar for an old high school friend, soaking in both the home town flavor and the smell of cigarettes.Unlike DC and VA they are still smoking cigarettes in the bars and restaurants in South Carolina. No one is surprised I am sure.
I am usually grossed out by the smell that stays in my clothes and hair after being around cigarette smoke but not tonight.Tonight the smell is mild and comforting.
I used to be quite the smoker myself when I was younger and I loved it. I really did. I never hated smoking while I was doing it. When I started to hate it, I busted my ass to quit. And Jesus Christ on a cracker it was hard. Took me two times to do it. But it has been years now.
But this smell tonight reminds me of college - hanging out with my friends until late late late talking about how fucked up we were. Most of my friends in college were either sober or trying to get sober, so we'd smoke cigarettes and drink coffee and hang out. I remember this smell on the jackets of lovers when I'd put them on to go outside in the winter. I remember this smell at the AA meeting hall before everyone would show up as it clung to everything in the room from hundreds of people smoking every day.
The smell also reminds me of my father who is downstairs pretty disabled and hooked up to an oxygen machine in the evenings to supplement the O2 he can't get in to his hardened from years of cigarette smoking lungs. Right now the smell of tobacco  brings on powerful images of youth, life, sickness and death.
Cause this is how life is. It isn't broken apart. The good over here. The bad over there.
It is all in the inhale and the exhale. Together.
That is just how it works.
Kind of the way I used to smoke.

SC for a few days

I am heading home to spend some time with my dad in Conway, SC for a few days. I'll be taking my dogs with me and doing the long 7 hour drive tomorrow. I used to do this drive alot - a few times a year actually. Now it seems I am always getting on a plane.
I am looking forward to the drive. And to having Bodhi and Fridha with me.
I have been settling in to Old Town Alexandria. I seem to be crying less. Less sad.And just moving on with life. Which just feels good cause I gotta tell ya, depression I can handle - this major transition shit that has me all twisted up is for the fucking birds.
I am finding some comfort in the groundlessness I am feeling these days. I am in this freefall of sorts.
I don't think a trip home will lend any kind of comfort but a nice road trip always does my creative, adventurous side some good.
I can't wait to see who I meet on the road and to take some photos.
More more and more soon.

Is driving hereditary?

My grandfather, JW Anderson, was a truck driver. I wonder if he felt a sense of accomplishment when he was done with a drive?
I sure do.
Getting from point A to point B feels good and so does everything in between. Pumping gas at the old gas stations on the side of I-95 and washing my own windows while the tank fills. Cleaning the car out. Getting a cup of coffee to drink. Hearing the sounds of a car going 75+ MPH down the interstate. All of these things make me happy.
I have often wondered if that is as genetic as they say the alcoholism JW may have passed on to me (and several other family members) is?
Thanks grandpa. For everything. It all works out just fine in the end, doesn't it?

Crazy talk

There was lots of crazy talk in my family before I was born and after. I have heard stories of the treatment some of my relatives received in various state mental hospitals - mainly the one on Bull Street in Columbia, SC. This photo project about abandoned mental hospitals made me think of my Aunt Rosie (Rosa Gossett) my grandmother's sister/my father's aunt. Rosie was a huge part of my childhood and whenever I think of all of the advance in mental health care we have made - I wonder what her life could have been like.
There is more to tell about Rosie but for now just check out the project.
Love you Aunt Rosie. Miss you.

I am at my best when I am en route

I am not a destination kind of gal. In any way, shape or form of the word. I guess I take it very serious when they say life is in the journey. Destination is a kind of illusion that can justify the trip. But I know.
The trip is the point.
Love, learning and the trip are all that matter.

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The adventures in Old Town VA begin with skull boots...

Last weekend when I was on King Street shopping with my friend Logan a sales woman in one of the stores said "Can I help you girls with anything?".
Girls?
Really?
Two 40 year old women - girls?
Now, you could attribute this to the casual day and age we live in but I don't think so.
She clearly mistook us for much younger and with much less buying power. I had to laugh it off. What else can you do?
Maybe it was the Ed Hardy Skull boots, blue jeans, tshirt and pony tails I was wearing?

They drive much nicer cars in my new neighborhood. In front of my new home there is a Porshe, a Jaguar and a BMW. None of those cars are mine. We still sport the Saturn Vue (god love Saturn they are now out of business!).
Needless to say I will not be challenging any of my new neighbors to a drag race.