charmaineolivia: Loose Lines June 2012
I saw Jane Goodall speak recently. She has been one of my heroes since I was a little girl. And there she was, wise and candid. She wears her humanity on her sleeve, and the her low ponytail, now grey, is iconic.
She spoke of Motherhood, of her own Mother. She shared that she had been blessed with the kind of Mother who, when she found young Jane had sneaked a few earthworms into her bed when she came in for a nap, did not recoil and shame her. She simply said “Jane, if we leave them here they won’t survive.” She spoke to her with compassion, using reason and empathy, and then helped her to place the wiggly worms where they belonged, in the garden.
I was blessed with the same kind of Mother, who nurtured my heart and let me be me. It’s because of her I knew what love was when I encountered it out in the world. It’s because of her I knew how to love-back.
weirdycutyfreaky: Where the wild Roses grow, 2012.
Belle arrived a little late, which was perfect because it meant I was actually ready instead of shouting “Be right therrrrrre!” from the bathroom while a frantically apply a 4th coat of carbon black mascara.
We had a few drinks, caught up on the past week, I asked her if any of her friends knew her plans for the evening. She had told her roommate all about us. We snickered and thanked our lucky stars we were blessed with friends who could handle our authentic selves. I brought out three forks and we attacked the chocolate cake she brought.
Everything was comfortable; the effortless communication as we discussed the rules and boundaries (of which there were few), her casual questions, the ease with which we brushed against the tougher topics, it took me aback.
This was her first time stepping out of the boundaries of black and white straight couple sex and the girl was so calm cool and collected, in spite of the flirting and blushing and kissing and rising tension she made the first move. It was fiercely brave and it made me so excited for her.
We moved to the bedroom and it became a tumble of limbs and clumsy undressing and giggles. “Full disclosure,” she said suddenly. “I giggle a lot during sex, it’s just the way I am, it really throws some people off but I can’t help it.” My husband looked at me eyes wide “Oh no!” he said teasingly, “Heart hates happy sex…” I tried in between kisses and pounces to explain my proclivity for happy porn and Fun In Bed but the message came through even if my words were muffled by mouths and fingers.
Art by Apollonia Saintclair
Words by herdirtylittleheart
What is it about 2am that makes me want to write to you? That makes me want to wake you up just to ask you if you still love me? That makes me waste time reading over old journals and tending to old heartaches? That finds me fantasizing about the smell of your pillow and the weight of your hands? That makes it seem like morning is just too long to wait? What is it about 2am that fills my head with more questions than answers and more answers than anyone asked for? My dreams feel so far away. (Just close your eyes.)
Source: Night and Fireflies by Flavia
Sometimes I get stuck on a word. For days, maybe weeks on end I’ll spell it over and over in my head, writing the word with my finger on my thigh or the table I’m working at, absentmindedly. A word like “tradescantia”, “lallation” or ”trichotillomania” will get trapped in my head and I repeat it over and over, tracing it in cursive with my finger to self-soothe.
If I’m eating certain candies (like m&m’s, smarties, sweedish berries, jellybeans) I like to have an even number, and chew them evenly on the left and right sides of my mouth. It satisfies me.
There are certain colours that compel me to put objects in my mouth. Jewel tones mostly; candy apple reds, deep purples, even the right turquoise. Especially shiny, glossy, highly polished things. I resist the urges (mostly), but I still feel them.
I can’t stand the feel of unfinished porcelain. That gritty dry sensation under my fingertips is worse than nails on a chalk board for me. It makes me squeeze my shoulders and grit my teeth and it makes my hair stand on end. I get the shivers just thinking about touching it.
I’m clear that these are mild compulsions and not disorders because they don’t interfere with my daily functioning and I can control them if I need to/want to. But these little idiosyncrasies, these obsessions or habits that we all have, are fascinating to me.
I’m always trying to get my friends to share them with me; My ex girlfriend can’t stand touching corduroy pants, a good friend feels sick just thinking about the elastic band on socks digging into her ankles, if I scratch my nail across a hologram sticker the sound it produces makes my husband want to die. My first serious boyfriend always set his clocks 3 minutes fast, my brother can’t cope with the food on his plate touching, my neighbour is a grown woman but I notice she never steps on the cracks in the sidewalks.
So confess Tumbl Buddies. I’m a very curious bunny and I want to know the strange little things you do that satisfy your brain, the oddball practices you keep hidden. The compulsions you can barely control. (Just to be clear this is about compulsions that don’t harm you or anyone else, I’m looking for the silly intricacies of your personality and sensory experience.)
I am challenging you, tumbl buddies, to Fess Your Foibles!
I’m looking forward to learning more about you!
Thanks for being such good sports,
(P.S. I tried to find the source for this cute little drawing but was unsuccessful even with google image searches… if you do know it please pass it on.)
Spring is springing in my heart.
Yesterday the sun shone just for a little while but it was enough to remind me that good things will come if I’m patient. I bought myself beautiful hot-pink calla lilies yesterday and stayed up way too late working on a project I’m excited about. This afternoon Cee and Sass and I headed to the naked lady spa for some long overdue relaxation and girl talk. And then a certain Daddy might spoil me with some lap time.
The last few weeks have really dragged me down but I have hope in my heart and a renewed focus on self-care. I have to surrender and believe that life is giving me what I need, even if I can’t see that right now. These challenges and hiccups and hurts along the way are all for a reason. And I can’t wait for Spring to bloom and reveal what’s next.
Spring’s Promise by Marjorie Miller
(Source: maudelynn.tumblr.com )
I killed it in my circus class today. I worked hard and it wasn’t always graceful but it felt good. And I did a 2 minute 30 second knee hang, which is a personal best! Feelin’ all kinds of proud.
Also? The naughty yet talented Kinky Casey is going to be a tiger tamer in our Circus Coven! This is a fantastic development. So now we have itmakesmewet and musingsandmischief on Fire, me representing Air, tiger taming will totally count as Earth… come on sexy witchy tumblr girls, which one of you has Water skills? We need to cover our elements. Swimmers, divers, mermaids, pretty girls in giant champagne glasses; apply within.
(“betty the tiger tamer can jump through hoops” by Sarah Hickey)