2021-05-18 Music as Inspiration and Other Rando Crafty Thoughts…

I’ve had my new phone for over a week and finally.. FINALLY.. got my music library loaded. So now I’m officially down to using one device daily. 💃💃💃

This morning, instead of picking a playlist, I’m listening to the ultimate shuffle—all the songs that are in my library. Another advantage of my new phone is that it has space to hold all the music I’ve loaded onto iTunes on my laptop, which is a fraction of the songs I’ve acquired in my lifetime. I only load artists, albums, and songs that I want to hear so as to avoid spending time skipping a whole lot of garbage that I’m not into.

In any case, listening to the ultimate shuffle today began with Mrs. Potters Lullaby by Counting Crows. That’s a song I once got inspired to write a poem about. One of the few instances (besides my Fall Out Boy poem) where I remember the exact circumstance—where I was and when.

I was at the Panera Bread in Papillion on 72nd street and it was just after a meetup with my ex, Matt. I sat in a corner chair—one of the bigger lounge chairs that’s not at a cafe table. I had my laptop out and was writing when the song came up. I was immediately immersed in the song and stopped writing. I couldn’t remember hearing that one before and I’ve listened to a LOT of Counting Crows. 

After the song was over, I hit the back button to listen again. And then again as I began to compose a poem. I let the song influence the poem, both in meter and rhyme. Each time I listened I pulled a line or two out to mingle with my own thoughts and I repeated the song until I was satisfied that the first draft was complete.

I then closed my laptop and drove home. 

Months later I found it again, perusing my personal slush pile and worked on revising, with the limited knowledge I had at that point (still early in my MFA). I didn’t spend too much time on it though, dismissing it because of the heavy rhyme and all the lyrics I’d hijacked and twisted to suit my needs. I wondered if the poem was too much of the song. Would that be considered plagiarism? 

Fast forward about two years and I’m revisiting my slush pile again, hunting for something to submit to workshop for my final MFA residency. I had a lack of new material and really wanted to push the envelope with something I felt was good and worthy of workshop, but would spark conversation about rhyme and “stealing” lines. 

It did exactly that and I was pleased with the outcome, yet, I have not submitted that one for publication and as I write this, I’m questioning why not. 

Perhaps that should be one of the next poems on the agenda for revision and research. Research because sometimes it takes a little effort to find a place that the poem would be a good fit for. Many publications I research actually say that rhyming poems are a tough sell and honestly, the poem itself is lacking tension and that’s probably a problem.

But tension can come in many forms. The subject itself can be edgy, the writing can be such that it surprises, or the tension can be more subtle—hidden in the play between the fundamental elements of the poem. Interruptions in established meter or form, changes in diction, or juxtaposing simple colloquial speech with complex rhetoric can all be effective means to create tension. I just have to decide what my poem wants—what would work with what’s already there. 

But… it could be that this is just a learning experience and the poem isn’t meant to be out in the world. Many aren’t. 

Maybe the experience I can learn from happened years ago when I first composed the poem, leaning into a song for inspiration. Maybe the daily reading of poems for inspiration can be expanded to include whatever song I feel moves me the most. 

Right now I’m listening to a song by Justin Bieber and that’s NOT inspiring me to write anything. I like some of his songs but listening to the ultimate shuffle, I’m still left skipping through a lot of garbage. Ugh!

Times up now anyhow. The taco Tuesday train is about to leave the station. All aboard! 🚂 

Peace, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2020-11-29 Rounding Up and Rounding Out

Every morning I get at least two new-to-me poems in my email in-box. About a week ago I decided that since I’m tired of writing about The same-old-same-old AND seem to be Most inspired to write Creatively after reading new material that I would use these little nuggets as a jumping off points for new musings. The first couple were (as shiny new things always are) starry successes. So much so that I decided that my next book length project would be a collection of these works, which I’m calling “flips.”

I proceeded to think of everything. Including using the word “flip” capitalizing on its multiple meanings— acrobatic acts, turning over, opposite sides, and fate. Perfection! The next word I had to decide on was the one to follow. Would it be “with” or “of” or “on”? Certainly not “over.” My intention to provide continuity of titles and at the same time nod to the poem or essay or story that inspired the flip.

A few more days and more contemplation about the concept later and I’m deciding not to post these flips to my blog… advice in my ear reminding me not to put potentials in the public domain. Some article I read about getting published. A succinct list of do’s and don’ts. Some publishers won’t publish your stuff if you’ve self published on a personal blog or website. Duly noted.

Heeding this warning led me to believe that I truly think I might be onto something. I mean, it stands to reason that if I didn’t think a poem had a chance in the real world I would not hesitate to post it. I mean, so what right?! I’ve been posting my poems for about 10 years now on my original blog, and rarely visit or post new stuff. What is there now I leave up. 1. I’ll probably never seek publishing any of these old poems as they are largely before my time in my MFA. 2. It’s nice to have a record of what my life and poetry were like before The Cataclysm.

The Cataclysm, so dramatic! But personally fitting for the event that led me to change my life. Look at me now!?! I’m not apologizing. Hurray!!

Anyway, so a few more days go by and I don’t get anything new from my attempts to flip. Probably because I got gobbled up with that Raccoon River Reading business. That kind of thing takes all my energy and attention.

Then it was Thanksgiving. And now I’m back at it, finding success again yesterday. Double hurray!!

Each day I open my email and know that poets.org posts in the early AM and Paris Review is later. Each day I have a little sliver of hope that today will be the day my poem “This” will appear on poets.org.

My acknowledgment earning poem, submitted to the American Academy of Poets contest through the University this year. As I understand it the poem will be posted on the site at some point, presumably sometime before the end of next years contest when they will have hundreds of new poems to choose from.

I’ve already exhausted almost all the happy dancing in me over this poem, but this one last nod would be a nice bow on the whole ordeal. Just don’t know when I’ll open my email and find that bow.

Today was not that day. It was also not a poem that particularly inspires me to write anything. So I quickly move on to the Paris Review. That one holds a little promise. A bite-size poem which is a perfect jumping off point. It’s got it all, brevity, deeper meaning, engaging language, and a title that requires research but is revealing and satisfying.

I really hate when something requires research and the research doesn’t reveal any more about the poem. I mean, it should. I need to remind myself of this when I think about including obscure references in my poems.

So “After Callimachus” is a possibility today but if it wasn’t, I have plenty of other options. A new book came in the mail yesterday and one the day before that and I barely scratched the surface of Rattle 69 and I’ve already received 70. Yeah.. at least I’m getting something for the $$$ I’m spending on submissions.

On that front I’m still holding steady in the low 70’s. Dipped down to 68 briefly this week with a few more rejections and then I had a submission surge one day this week and am back up to like 73. I think 75 is a nice round number to shoot for. Perhaps I’ll put together a few more as the month comes to a close. Hit my target and then cruise December. Perhaps.

With that, I think I’ll get off this treadmill and get on with my day. Lots planned for today. More decorating, meeting with Ed for final acceptances for the GLR, baking cookies. Hopefully I won’t be doing these things alone. We’ll see.

ICheers to Third Sunday,
~Miss SugarCookie

2018-09-21 On Inspiration and Nostalgia

Some days I think about writing poetry and I’m all like “I got nothin”. Other days I start thinking about life and my history and the music in my ears and everything seems like a poem begging to be born. I’ve been around the block and I’ve experienced a lot of shit. Some of it you would not believe. My closest friends would not believe it. Stuff in my past that I never talk about with anyone. When people have events they never talk about, it’s typically something they are ashamed of and wanting to hide. Or sometimes it’s painful and they don’t talk about it because it stirs up too much heartache.

I’m no exception to that rule. At my last residency one of the faculty gave a lecture where he talked about nostalgia and the wavelength we are all on. It starts out as a flatline before we are born and the amplitude and frequency grows as we get older. Once we reach adulthood we can have wild swings up and down and life hands us a lot that we have to figure out how to deal with. We may have events that rock our world, and other where we feel like we just got “Rick Rolled”.

He talked about how, as writers, we gravitate toward exploring those events and often return back to them again and again for inspiration. He indicated that there are typically four or five things that we cycle through. Most of the time, it’s deep, tough stuff. I’ve definitely witnessed this phenomenon in my travels.

In the last few years I’ve been more active in my local writing community. I’ve attended readings and workshops and poetry slam contests. I’ve become somewhat familiar with the local artists and their work and also read books published by visiting poets. My observations validate what Jim Peterson talked about in his lecture.

People have had tough lives. Mental illness, drug addiction, suicide, abuse, poverty. I’ve listened to poets use their art to express what they have experienced in their lives. I’ve also witnessed the trend of individuals who use that circumstance over and over. A few times I’ve felt that it’s the same poem rewritten in a different way over and over. Perhaps I’ve just heard the same poems recited by the same person again and again, but in reading collections I do detect themes. It may be that that is what was intended with a particular book, but my mind keeps returning to the idea of nostalgia and artists accessing their past to create something beautiful.

In the lecture JP made a point about how nostalgia can happen with both positive and negative events. We can look back longingly at some previous time, wishing for things to be like that again. That’s the traditional thought invoked when people talk about nostalgia. He made a case that it’s also looking back at a difficult time which evokes a different set of emotions. Both can be a challenge to process. We have grief, longing, sadness, and regret but we can also have joy, peace, humor, and hope.

When I think about all of this I recognize I have a wealthy history of experiences to draw from, I may not be ready to face my demons, but that doesn’t mean I can’t sharpen my sword with some interesting peak-wavelength moments, or at the very least something more interesting than the hum-drum that most days are composed of.

I could tap into the time in my life I lived in Las Vegas or the time I traveled to the UK solo just to go to the Snow Patrol concert or my experiences traveling other places. I have written only scraps about those times. I’ve got tiny snippets from times when I was falling in love and magical moments with my babies (now teenagers).

In days like today I look around me and am inspired by everything. The sunrise is a different shade of amazing each and every day. I’m grateful for so much and want to express that in my poetry also. I’m sure most of it is just Fluff, but that’s no reason to hold back. If I want to celebrate the Man in Black on the treadmill next to me, then that’s what I’m going to do. I mean, Bird Girl is way more interesting but I haven’t seen her for months. So many possibilities.

On that note, it’s time to wrap here and go write a poem. Yeah, it’s as easy as that. What’s a girl to do?

Looking on the Bright Sides,

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-06-29 Part 2 (the Rest of the Story)

Where oh where did I leave off? Oh yes faithful happy-hour goers at the Railcar catching up over delicious cheeseburgers and glasses of wine…

…Soon after the second glass Sam and I parted ways. I was on a tight schedule to get to my next event by 7PM. I scooted my booty downtown so I could attend a feedback reading. If I haven’t talked about this before, my bad. A feedback reading is when writers read published work or work in progress and after they are finished, there’s an open dialogue with the audience.

I arrived right as it was about to start and got stuck in the front row. Bah! One of the readers was a high school teacher in the area and the other was a woman who is a native of Florida but got her BFA at UNO. She’s also one of the mentors in the MFA program I’m in at UNO and that’s the main reason I really wanted to make it to this session. Attendance for me at stuff like this is hit and miss because of all my other obligations. However with my renewed sense of commitment to my writing life and my interest in hearing one of my potential mentors read again, I wasn’t going to miss this one. 

It was awesome. Great poems and narratives and an interesting discussion after. Despite being in the front row, I kept my mouth shut. I gave myself permission to be silent and thereby relieved my anxiety about the potential spotlight. I was able to just listen and enjoy and take a few notes about things I might return to later for inspiration. I always get inspired at these events and my head is full of things I want to write about. It’s hard to hang onto though. Like a dream you try so hard to remember yet it slips away. The notes help, but it’s still not the same as actually capturing the full thoughts as they happen. 

Sadly by the time I arrived home and checked in with the kids and spoke with Jim, it had all slipped away. Now it’s tomorrow and it’s back to the gym and back to work and back to parenting and I’ll never get that moment back. I’ve learned not to get too bent about this occurrence. Those inspirational moments are in abundance in my future and though it will never be the same, it can potentially be even better. 

There’s a dedicated workshop with the same two writers on Saturday and that’s  my next chance. For that I will have more time during and after to really capture the essence of my subject matter, whatever that turns out to be. Totally looking forward to that. 

Also looking forward to Residency in July. I’m ramping up now and have begun writing and reading and revising every day. It’s a challenge to do it all, you know, life. The trick is to taste the sweetness when you can and do your best in the spaces between. 

Hey.. I see one of those spaces coming up now. 😏

On the Happy Path, 
~Miss SugarCookie 

2018-03-03 Uninspired

Last night I could not even get through like five pages of my new text without 1). Having my mind go off in several different tangent directions about the subject matter (Poetry as Discourse) more I want to consider as it relates to the text and 2). Wanting to fall asleep. Because that’s what reading in bed does to me apparently.

This morning I’m staring at my weekend to-do list and wondering what I should go after first. It’s going to be 60 degrees out but windy as hell. Even if doing outside sounds really appealing, it’s going to be a struggle.

So what’s it going to be? Taxes? Taping my dining room to paint? Sort and file my mail?…. yuk.

I’ll probably do Jazzercise at 10:30 and then see how I feel after that. Somehow nothing sounds appealing and I’m so uninspired.

I guess that’s it now. You know… when there’s just nothing there, why try to force it.

Peices Out,

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-02-10 Finding Inspiration and Motivation

So far today I’m pretty uninspired. I was awake by 6am and did a little gathering of statistics for Work and then got my daughter up for drivers ed this morning.

The class is 5 hours in the classroom today followed by 2 hours behind the wheel with an instructor this afternoon. That’s a full day of responsibility for her, but she wanted it. She didn’t seem to care what she had to do to get that little piece of plastic next month on her birthday. And despite it being so early on a Saturday, when she would normally sleep until 11am, she hasn’t complained or said one negative thing. I’m quite impressed.

I was the opppsite at her age. I was unmotivated to put in effort to do anything that was even halfway an inconvenience to me. I took drivers ed as a class in HS when I was a jr. And didn’t get my license until I was like 17 and a half. I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about working either. I followed in my older brothers footsteps in getting a job at a local buffet when I was 16. I worked there a total of like six weeks and then quit. I discovered pretty quickly that I didn’t want to work until I absolutely had to. That ended up being the summer after my senior year of HS.

I think motivation is so internal and tough to find externally. It has to be more ingrained in your person and less a thing you can just choose to have if you don’t have those feels. Z definitely has the feels.

She wants to get a job right away this summer. She wants to work and make money and alleviate her summer boredom. I’m pretty sure that will stick.

Ok… I just received an inspiration injection shot! There’s a fabulous trio to my left on the treadmills. Yes!!

Ib this order.. 1) The man in black. 2) Dude in a camo muscle shirt and 3) Bird girl! Ahh the return of bird girl. I haven’t seen her for about 2 weeks. I miss her outfits and I’ve only seen two.

Today she’s wearing jeans (yes, running on a treadmill at the gym) and a spaghetti strap tank that’s got so much bling it looks like it belongs in the club getting low-low-low-low. I actually really dig today’s getup. I would wear that… but… umm.. not to the gym.

Her and the man in black have already outlasted camo and now it’s an endurance challenge to see who will outlast who. My gold monopoly Benjamin’s are on my personal favorite.. the man of few words and fewer colors.

I keep smiling at him when we cross paths but he doesn’t seem to even glance in my direction. Such a shame. I also haven’t been close enough to see if he’s wearing a wedding ring. I know I’m ridiculous but guess what “I don’t care.. I love it. I love it!”.

So inspiration can be both generated internally and externally. I’m not sure which one is stronger for me. This morning it seems to be external. I’ll take it!

It’s a short set for me today cuz imma hit a Jazzercise class at 9:30. It will be my first one all week. That work stuff is really cramping my style! I also am coming up on two whole weeks without seriously working on my MFA stuff so I gotta Work on my balancing skills. Soon. Now?

Time to Jazz!

~Miss SugarCookie

2017-10-20 Inspiration On the Path

I’m walking on this path of life and declared my purpose to be the search for inspiration. Sometimes the road is long and boring and sometimes there are waves of wonderful things to see and touch and hear and taste. So much that I can’t possibly consume it all and not miss something. Yesterday was one of those glorious days full of experience, thought, and emotion. 

Too much from the day to recount all of it so I will just focus on the highlight which was the feedback reading I attended. They changed the format from previous readings and the interaction/feedback was greatly reduced. It felt more like a standard poetry reading by two great authors whose work has been published and the pieces they read were polished and perfected. No feedback needed. Wait? Isn’t that the point of a feedback reading? To get feedback from the audience on some work in progress? If they want to change the format then they should change the name too, in my opinion. But I digress. 

The two poets they had were just phenomenal and clearly seasoned veterans at presenting their own work. One was a poetry slam champion so it’s no wonder she brought me to tears and the other was a woman who decided when she was 39 to quit her professional job and pursue her passion in writing. Hey, that sounds familiar! 

I’ve had no update on my MFA application and I’ve been strangely at ease with that. I think I’m scared about it. If I get a negative response I’m going to have even bigger issues with my insecurities about my abilities than I already do. If I get a positive response, then I’m faced with the decision to keep going, invest in myself, and actively take on more risk than I already have quitting my job. Like a giant fork in the road which lay before me and this decision will put me on a path where the road sign at that juncture will all at once show up in my rear view. 

If I take the road less traveled, I’m all-in. I cannot happily skip along both paths. There is only one of me and I have limited time and resources. 
Meeting Airea D. Matthews, author of the Yale Younger Poets Prize-winning for her collection, Simulacra, was validation that following ones instincts is the right thing to do and that the results can be amazing. She was the one who had a “normal” life with a husband and four children and a career and one day decided to change her life.

I spoke briefly with her and at the end of that conversation she said she was looking forward to reading my work. Uhhhh, what?!
I did not speak directly with Rachel McKibbens, who has a book, Blud, which is fresh out from Copper Canyon Press. She was the one who is a Slam success and her path was very different but still validating with the notion that you can do what you want despite many tough obstacles. Her obsticles are far and away more difficult than anything I’ve ever imagined. If money is my only hurdle, then I should just shut my mouth right now and “go for it”. 

However, hearing their work left a very polar opposite thought in my brain. My life and experiences may not be enough. My passion for the craft may not be enough and my talent is questionable. My poetry is very one dimensional compared to these women. 

Is the difference years of focus on their work or is it raw talent and life experience? I can’t know the answer to this which puts the scale of my decision back in balance. Most of the time I’m preaching all about balance but in this case, I really would like something to tip this scale in one direction or another. In the end, it’s my life and my decision. I’m afraid of screwing it up. 

I think when I do get some feedback on my MFA application, that will help. Until then, I’ll just keep walking this path soaking it all in.
 
Whistling While I Walk,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-10-09 Another Look at a Familiar Book

Over a year ago I was given a book called “Madness, Rack, and Honey”. It’s a collection of lectures from a famous poet who now teaches for an MFA program at Vermont College, Mary Ruefle’s. I started reading the book and then stopped. I then dumped the guy who gave it to me. In return, he broke my heart and I ended up shoving the book under some stuff in the the bottom drawer of my nightstand. I did not want any reminders of him or us. Until very recently, there was still too much grief associated with that break-up for me to entertain looking at the book. Things have changed now though, so I’m giving it another go.

Being a collection of lectures about poetry it is all at the same time fascinating and boring. I can read a page or two here and there, but it’s not the sort of thing you get engaged in from cover to cover. There are lots of little paragraphs of wisdom and enlightenment and lots of historical references to poems and authors.

The topic I started reading about tonight is Fear. Well, there is an entire chapter devoted to fear but the bit that I zoomed in on is more about poets and poetry and inspiration. Here a quote from Raymond Queueau.. “The poet is never inspired because he is the master of what others assume to be inspiration… He is never inspired because he is always inspired, because the powers of poetry are always at his disposal, obedient to his will, receptive to his guidance.”

In my statement of purpose (the original and more recently the one for the MFA application) I write about inspiration. That I am seeking inspiration and some spark that ignites the flame. Is this quite all wrong then? If I’m a true poet and the magic and mystery of life is at my will to command at all times, I can conjure poetry from nothing. I need no spark save the spark within me. I need no feeling or circumstance or grand gesture to assemble a masterpiece of words. I need only apply my own brand of genius and let my fingers do the dancing across the lighted keyboard.

If this is true, then I should not have any trouble with any given prompt or topic. I should be able to “roll off” without a worry or care or fear that the blank page will try and stare me down `till I back down. I have this skill within me. I’m certain that I do because I’ve not only got a poem about this very subject I wrote when I was a mere 17 years old, but I recall writing it on a day when absolutely nothing was going on and I was writing poetry on napkins at the restaurant I was a waitress for. I wonder if I still have those napkins?

The poem was called Rolling Off, and it must not be one I consider good enough because It’s not posted on my blog. But at the same time, it is at least memorable enough that I still recall writing it 27 years later. Time to go take a look at my archives (all paper you know because back then we didn’t not have PCs or Laptops or iPads or iPhones)…. I shall return shortly.

***

As it turns out I no longer have the napkins from the restaurant that I feverishly scrawled on a million years ago, but I did scribe a copy of that poem, “Rolling Off”, into the hardback book of musings I called “And then there was me”.

I was always big on titles and organization. Every journal had a name and every collection of poetry neatly compiled in separate notebooks which also had titles. That poem is garbage. I was hoping for something brilliant, but most of the things in that book are quite terrible. I’m not going to type it here either, because I have some respect for myself.

So one quote from that book, Madness, Rack and Honey led me down this path. I swear I can’t read a page from that book without going down a rabbit hole of thought or writing. It may take me a lifetime to get through the whole book. I at least have to get to the explanation of the title. Super curious about that.

Rack is Probably Not What You Think,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-09-27 Answers From Within

I was left to my own devices for most of the day yesterday. I was left alone to choose what I wanted to do without any influence from the outside world. It was a day of following my internal compass and I followed in that direction both physically and mentally. As I sit here now, I am amazed at the outcome. I’m getting close to the answers I have been looking for.

A few weeks ago I had lunch with Paul and as one thing led to another, the result was a spotlight on a job opportunity at a local Health System. The job would be very similar to what I have done before for a different Health System. It popped into my email in-box on September 21 and I promptly put it on my to-do list. Five days later, as I crossed off the second to the last thing on my to-do list, I stared at that line item and felt myself issue a deep sigh. I really don’t want to apply.

I lobbied with myself last night about it and also spoke to Simon. I reasoned that it would be good experience anyway no matter what would happen durning the process or what the outcome would be. I’ve interviewed a total of about five times to companies in my 20+ years of being an adult, which is so shallow compared to most people my age. Needless to say, I’m lacking in knowledge and experience in that arena so any I can get would probably be good.

However, I did just go through all of this in January and February with CMH and knocked that out of the park, so what more can I expect from this? The answer, is potentially a job. Still, the procrastination and feelings I had about it are telling. I ended up filling out the application earlier this evening and crossed that off the list. Everything I wanted to get accomplished today has been done, or moved to a different day this week. Then what?

I looked at my email.
I scrolled through Facebook.
I clicked on some FB add/link and ended up ordering something online.
I researched how to become a Master Gardner in Sarpy county. The website wasn’t very clear but did indicate an application must be submitted. I’m going to call the main number to find out more (and yes, I added it to my list).
I researched the MFA in Creative Writing Program at UNO and then it happened…

As I started to read more about the program and the areas of focus and the mentorship and the residency and the process to apply, I had exactly the opposite feeling I had been having for five days about applying for a job. I felt excited and happy and hopeful. Then I remembered, this is not the first time I have felt this way about this topic.

The first time was at my company holiday party last year. I sat next to Paul’s wife (yes the same Paul) who was currently going through the program and it sounded amazing. She shared some of her experiences which were so positive and had nothing but good things to say about the people and the program. That is what planted the seed in my brain.

The second time was when I was on the elliptical machine at the stupid Comfort Inn hotel near the airport in Portland. It was the day we were flying home from our last family vacation and the kids were geeking out on their video games in the room so I was exercising. I had been thinking about what I wanted to do for the rest of my life and that tiny little seed sprouted. I once again became excited and hopeful and curious about that even being an option for me. I resolved to add it to my list of things for deeper consideration when I got to the point of really digging in and thinking about what was next.

Now I am nearing the end of September, which was the month that was supposed to be dedicated to that and sort of feeling like I have been drifting and procrastinating and doing the opposite of what I intended to do.

I wrote a couple of days ago about being happy and just expecting the universe to bestow answers upon me as I was sleeping. Simon says it’s not the universe, it’s just us. We feel the need to attribute unexplainable things to something greater than ourselves because it’s human nature to want to believe that there are forces at work beyond what we see and understand. But it’s inside of us and whatever happens, it is because we made it happen. We make choices and take action and have moments of brilliance and enlightenment.

So then I had my moment of brilliance. I believe I have found the answer for what is next for me and I’m feeling very positive about it. There are complications, obstacles, and hard work ahead, but that’s all going to be sorted out in time. For now, I am just going to ride this feeling to where it leads me. Today my friends.. Today is a good day to start.

Peace and Love,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-08-05 The “Hopeless” in Hopeless Romantic

Today I found myself feeling very anti-social and melancholy and consequently walking around Walnut Creek again. I arrived just about 45 minutes prior to sunset and when I began walking I paced myself so that I could enjoy the sunset from the path on east side of the lake looking west.

Most of the music that came up on shuffle tonight was not inspirational, until the very last turn when Soma by the Smashing Pumpkins came on and I thought to myself, “No more appropriate song to serenade the sunset for me tonight”. As I rounded that last corner, still walking east I kept peering behind me hoping I was not going to miss the final dip into the horizon. I didn’t. I even walked off the path toward the lake to have a seat in the grass and revel in the glory of the final minutes and seconds of the suns light as it disappeared from the sky.

I’ve always been captivated by the sunrise and sunset. I’ve always felt a certain tug from nature and a desire to make those events my number one priority in the instances the opportunities are near. I’ll drive in the wrong direction to have a better view. I will go out of my way to get to a higher vantage point or spend extra time waiting even if there is somewhere else I am supposed to be. There is just something special about witnessing the sunset. Something that just can’t compare to most things really.

It’s an acknowledgement of the cyclical nature of things and the significance and insignificance of everything we see and feel in this world. It brings about reflection about ones place in the universe and a peace that is complex and masterful. It’s a reminder of the variability of life and the cynical nature of time. The sun sets ever so slowly but is gone in the blink of an eye. As with life it is both quick and long and as long as I am able, I will continue to seek out these moments, these moments that happen every day but are also so few and far between. I want to sing to the sun “Nothing left to say; And All I’ve left to do; Is Run away from you”. It’s part of the nature of me. Some sort of hopeless romantic.

But what does the hopeless in hopeless romantic really mean? The very terminology is quite ironic as someone who is blessed or cursed with this affliction as I am knows, “hopeless” really means bound forever to hope. Hopeless in the way that there is no escaping from the hope of the grand ideals of romance. The endless daydream of something that is a kin to a fairy-tale story for the loves they may have in their life. Its a grandiose escape from reality. Some notion that the one true love of ones life is a perfect match that will sweep them off their feet and that life together will be bliss.

Not only that, but that every day will be one after the next of stolen kisses and holding hands and long walks and talks by the lake at sunset. Real life persists, but love conquers all. There is nothing hopeless about any of that, save the constant flutter that can’t be satisfied in ones heart at the thought of some of these daydreams coming true.

I blame this quality in myself for my inability to make connections with people I’ve met… because I’m hoping for something more. I described the other night how I felt when I first laid eyes on Matt and how I don’t really want to settle for anything less. If I dial it back a few years before that, I had the same feeling about another person, when they put their arm around me late in the night after driving me home from a party. And going back further still, way back to the beginning of my dating days when I first began speaking to Brian and felt that spark of something more. I know what it feels like and so now I will not settle for less.

I can say I have had it genuinely only once with the new people I have met recently and I’m having a hard time separating that or distilling it down to know if what I am feeling is real, or if it is just the fact that I want so badly to feel it. Are my daydreams getting the best of me or can there possibly be something more there? I’m hopeful and therefore I am hopeless. You see how ironic that is?

So it’s 10PM now and I’ve had a glass or two of wine on this fine Saturday evening. I’d decided hours ago that I wanted to spend the evening alone with my thoughts so I could try and gain some clarity in several areas. Ironic again because clarity does not present itself easily when wine is involved. A good night sleep probably won’t either, but I have all day tomorrow to relax and recover if I don’t sleep well. Hell, I have all day tomorrow and the next and the next and the one after that if I need it. So bring on another glass and let the daydreaming continue.

Cheers,
~Miss SugarCookie