Blue Monday

Saturday's window. Today's was darker, starker, white. Todya is blue Monday, thee most dpressing day of the year according to a Brit researcher.
I was supposed to have a visitor who didn't call and didn't show. Adn i dismantled my little photo studio to accomodate
her--- it is the brightest spot and the chair had a pyramid of sheet covered boxes. Niles was dismayed as it has becaome his draped boudoir, his hidey place, from which he can see all yet not be seen. I rpobably would not have vacuumed so assidously and definitely would have eaten both sooner and later...


But the led clip light arrived. it cast a wide beam for it's tiny size, but really i still need a floor lamp to have light,



I'm thinking about a play about the place i'm living.
it's been so hard to write.
Going inside takes me inside, to the pain
should i make peace with my condition nonononononon i scream this is not me
but it hasn't gone away yet. i don't spend the day trembling in fear like i did until november, fear of falling out, falling over the incredible daily fear that exhausted me after riding the liftline

and i still fell grief and fatigue most days
maybe because i am out of noni juice and ginseng
i miss my energy which some said was incredible and maybe now i am just knocked down to normal

i seldom did as much as i wanted to , but it was so much more than i can accomplish now

ginseng ginger help me

all i need is 10% i read just 10% will let me walk again

i feel tingling like when your feeet fall asleep i pray this is an awakening

Meditation and Prayer

Meditation helps but I can't say how. I've been praying with my crochet. I miss the fire of flameworking and the sweat of mold making in kilncasting, the things that totally absorb and let me be in the lfow. Poetry is so hard for me when life is so hard, because I just write write write about my grief and anger. And my anger is not so much about my predicament but about how people treat me: the doors that are so hard hard hard to open even with uppre body strength I never dreamed to have. Being left to bang my way in the the morning and out in the afternoon.

If I say the right prayer will it all be open sesame and click click clikc like the clicks that i felt as i could not move and tumbled to the floor, will it all click click back in operation? I've got to walk again, so I can see my father before his forgetting erases me from his memory. He was such a wonderful raconteur, the dad other kids wished they had and they were so right to desire him, because i was grateful he was and is my father. I've got to walk again so I can see my nivlings. My aunt and uncles were such a part of me showing me who to be and not to be, how I miss the beautiful young people! I dreamt of Paris and this time there was a neighborhood that tunrd into queens--- new paris with single fmaily homes and down that block was beach and the sea and again golden sand. British columbia was discussed at Thanksgiving and Vancouver with islands and city and sea and green
all put together, a paradise.