My room and 25 things about me

Tuesday, February 13, 2007; 12:09 PM I’m sitting here in my cluttered study and I forgot to turn the light on. Instead of a warm yellow glow, there is a dim blue-grey light from outside. It’s overcast; they’re predicting snow and colder weather still, but the snow hasn’t started falling. There is just this dull sense of waiting. And waiting.

I am going to take a shower, but first I will just “pen” a few words, if you can call typing on a computer penning! It is my preferred way to write these days.

My desk is cluttered with my many projects and the floor around my desk is cluttered with books and more projects and the pull-out keyboard shelf has projects and notes to myself, do this, remember that, here are the DVDs to copy photos onto to back them up.

I want to expand every minute and every hour and every day and then fill those minutes and hours and days with all the things I want to do. Write, do photography, do art. Write poems, stories, novels. And I want to go out and play. I want to sleep well enough and feel well enough that I have the energy and motivation to do everything I want to do. And I want a fairy godmother to do the rest.

The windows are covered with frost, little featherlike and stick-like fingers of frost leaping out away from the main bland wash of it, though even in the mass of frost, there are individual feather-like crystals. I think of that mass of frost at the bottom as being all of humanity and I am one of the ones reaching up and away, feathering, expanding outward, being creative and different. But probably most people think of themselves that way, and for most of them, I am an unknown lost in the masses and they are the individual, striving to exist, the grow, to reach out, to create.

Yes, I know you are an individual, who like me, strives for excellence and often fails. And you, and you.

The room is red. Dark red, blood red. There are three quails in heavy gold frames. I didn’t paint the room or choose the color or hang the quails, but I like them. I’ve gotten used to them. There is a Museum of Science and Technology calendar hanging from the heavy green curtains. This month, a bunch of partygoers with conical hats stare out, with grins and cake. This month, Graham will have his birthday party at Laserquest, with friends.

25 things about me:

1. I am a writer, though I often write poorly and carelessly, or hurriedly, because I have too much else to do.
2. I am a photographer. A hobbyist, not a professional. But published, and I’ve sold pieces (does the fact that I’ve sold a few pieces make me a professional? I think not!)
3. I am an artist, though I cannot draw very well. I do Photoart and forms of art where drawing well is not essential.
4. I am happily married, hurrah. It is my third and hopefully my last marriage—that is—I hope to stay happily married to this husband.
5. I have three children, one of whom I did not give birth to. I also lost a baby.
6. I have a bird, a cockatiel named Rocky. I got him for my daughter. He talks quite a bit, and sits on my finger. He’s no longer allowed to fly free, poor Rocky.
7. I don’t hate and never kill spiders, not even poisonous ones.
8. I don’t hate insects. (I LIKE insects and spiders)
9. I like wildflowers, including ones most people consider weeds.
10. I think saving the planet is one of the most important things that need to be done at this time—before it is too late.
11. I’m a tree-hugger.
12. I hate granola.
13. I hate perfume and wish other people wouldn’t douse themselves with it and stand anywhere near me. It makes me sick.
14. I dislike and am allergic to cigarette smoke. (Please don’t smoke near me!)
15. I DO like lemon in my water. I prefer my water UN-iced.
16. NO, I do not want coffee with that.
17. NO, Do not supersize it. (In fact, I hate fast –food restaurants.)
18. I HATE TELEVISION.
19. I do like some movies. I prefer to see them at the theater. But I hate the fact that theaters charge so much now. I can still remember paying 25 cents to see a movie.
20. I’m old.
21. I’m procrastinating.
22. I used to be a hippie.
23. I’ve written a number of unpublished novels.
24. I hope to publish them.
25. I have published poems and short stories.

I want to stop now, but I have to say, I’m weird and abnormal. (Is anyone normal?) and I hope you don’t, as Erin over at In Blue Ink says, “hope you don’t hate me now” that you know the terrible truths.

Also--I've decided to quite the Project 365 thing, for me, it's just absurd! I post many days anyway, but I am writing a novel and I am trying to tie up the loose ends after my mother's death and work on her memorial service and I just don't want to feel obligated to back post on a day I didn't have time or was traveling. Luckily, I never signed up for the Project 365 blogroll, so only you need to know I've quit.

I posted three variations of a new art piece on INSOMNIA at Unbearable Darkness, Self-portraits, and Imagik.