Petals to flowers

A beautiful peony flower

Watching your children achieve milestones is such a fantastic feeling,

Watching your child who couldn’t communicate, use a device and tell you he loves you for the first time, brings you to tears.

And hearing their sweet voice say a new word for what he needs… is beyond amazing.

Being a mother brings on an unimaginable amount of tears,

Joy

Guilt

Excitement

Fear

Love

Their lives unfolding before your eyes, the beautiful petals unfurling one by one

All the love and affection supporting the bloom.

Eventually your nurturing slows, your flowers will be fully opened and showing the world how amazing they are.

You are in awe of their stunning colors.

And you’re terrified of them getting hurt

But we must remember that life is resilient, life is strong

And as long as there is love and a safe space when they need it, life will flourish, and your blooms will stay ever vibrant.

I will need this reminder on hard days.

Stay steady, and keep loving with all your soul.

~A

Flies…

Flies buzz, harassing the house with their lack of personal space

Or table manners.

Inviting themselves in through the back door that a toddler holds open

How rude of them.

Many have been trapped

Thrown outside

Died.

But they just keep appearing, driving me crazy as they land on me, my food, my children’s food…

And not the traps.

Oh no, never the traps…

…Flies…

~A

The fish

Lightheaded, dizzy, weak. It’s so cold, though the sun blazes. I’ve never felt cold before…this must be the end.

Light shimmers off the waters newly formed ripples. Fish!

The water feels nice on my body, I need that fish.

Mother taught me to swim in silence, slow powerful movements, as not to disturb the water in front and scare the food.

Practiced precise movements are difficult, the fish are getting away. I push harder, the pains in my gut are sharp, with each heart beat, I feel weaker.

A fish darts frantically away from the group, this is my chance.

I swing, darkness takes hold.

—

—

The pains subside, the cold dissipates. The sun feels warm on my face.

Picking a bone from my teeth, I slide back into the water.

Writing prompt from cazzycoop, thanks for this fun exercise!

~A

New project (little poem at the end)

I’ve always been creative, and I’ve tried SO many different avenues of creativity.

From making jewelry with my aunt in a camper at night with head lamps on our camping trips, to drawing and just about everything in between, I’ve dabbled in many a craft, in hopes of finding The One.

And I believe I may have found it. It ticks many boxes for me. It’s functional, tangible, there is freedom of design and materials, it has some technical aspects, it’s quick, fun and satisfying.

While the piece I made is no where near perfect, or what I envisioned, I still felt very proud of myself, and I wanted to do more!

Photo of my hand made pleather journal next to my coffee mug
The first journal I’ve ever made, first time binding pages of a book. This was created using scrap craft pieces of fake leather I had bought for making earrings.

I can stop and start as needed (necessary when you have little ones) and there isn’t a whole crazy set up process.

Making handmade journals.

One of my favorite journals of all time is this leather one.

Faded brown leather journal next to a black pen sitting on a western/native patterned cushion.

I left it empty for years because I didn’t want to write something dumb and ruin a beautiful book. It now houses the recalls of my dreams. I haven’t written in it for some time, but I have written 104 pages worth.

Opened pages of a leather journal that has many pages written in it recalling past dreams
My dream recollection journal.

Writing is my jam, the pages are my peanut butter, the covers…the bread.

I also have another journal that I don’t write in, I have a bunch of small drawings I did when I was experimenting with pen drawings. I did an Instagram art challenge called inktober, everyday was a new prompt to draw using pen. (Not being able to erase is nerve wracking!) if interested in seeing some of my random art you can visit my art instagram page here.

I have a big plan in my head, to incorporate all my art “needs” into creating some really awesome journals. Leather, hard cover, soft cover, you name it I’m going to try it! The whole book making and binding process was really really fun and satisfying even though I didn’t do mine well (it’s not tightly bound at all, pretty loose, and crooked. Oh well, I still did it and loved it!)

It doesn’t get much better

Than holding your passion in your hands

Reading the words of your soul

And feeling the rhythm of your heart on a page.

Have a wonderful weekend!

~A

True love

I often sit and wonder if true love is real.

I’ve decided it can’t be.

It’s a myth, a fairy tale of lies and deceit.

I have seen so many romantics, so much love, to had such high hopes and excitement for the day I marry…

Only to be shown that true love can’t possibly exist beneath scars,

Pain, lies, coercion, manipulation, discouragement, selfishness, misogyny, belittling, and backhanded words.

True love must not exist, if I’ve experienced these things, right?

Right?…. no.

True love exists in the tiny faces that look up from your arms

True love exists in the little hearts that were grown in your womb

True love exists in the small hands that tuck themselves into yours.

True love needn’t be a man.

If he is, I hope to meet him someday, and laugh at this writing.

Mother and new born daughter holding hands
Nov. 8th 2022

~A

Fires burn

Fire in a raised fire pit with a dusk background

Warmth emits an orange glow

An enthralling scene

Words written are carried by smoke to the heavens

Prayers.

To any gods that may find them,

I ask for your help, your guidance, your reassurances.

Everything will be ok

The warmth will comfort you in times of need

The light will guide you when you are in the darkness

The smoke will cleanse you of your troubles.

Use the fire as your tool, rather than let it consume you.

~A

If dreams were real

Very dark picture of dense pine trees, eerie

I’ve heard that dreams can be memories of a past life,

If that’s true… I lived in different times.

I’ve heard that dreams can be traveling to parallel universes,

If that’s true… I’ve caused a lot of havoc.

I’ve killed countless others, not for sport mind you.

I’ve been hunted by people who wished me harm.

I’ve escaped multiple prisons and their experimental drugs, saved others from them too.

I’ve seen things that no one should see.

I’ve been through the apocalypses, zombie and nuclear.

I’ve met demons and the dead with a pension for killing.

I’ve watched myself die.

One thing is for certain though, I’m ruthless, a skilled and determined fighter. If only I could remember how to fight in waking life!

Ever since I can remember, I’ve had bad dreams. I assume that’s what night terrors are. I have only had two dreams in life that were good, and they were very short lived.

I started writing my dreams in a journal, I found it helped me calm myself, maybe I’ll share some with you.

Let me know what you think about that idea!

Have a lovely day friend!

~ A