Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, Memoir and Reflections, Song Lyric Sunday, Spotlight Sunday

Serene Scene of Snowflake Stars, #SongLyricSunday

It’s nearly Christmas (just another two weeks to go) and the snow has fallen in Canada, where I live, already now.

UxhV7tE.jpg

Fitting then, that this theme is
“falling” (be it falling in love or the falling Christmas snow)
and I have the image of snowflakes falling, glinting in the blackness of the night’s sky, like stars perhaps.

Maybe, that is how my slightly off kilter blind brain imagines it, but is making no sense to anyone else.

A little flashback music from nearly two decades gone by: my guide dog and Beverly Hills 90210 come to mind.

***

“Crush”

Ah crush ah
See you blowin’ me a kiss it doesn’t take a scientist
To understand what’s goin’ on baby
If you see somethin’ in my eye, let’s not overanalyze
Don’t go too deep with it baby
So let it be what it’ll be
Don’t make a fuss and go crazy over you and me
Here’s what I do, I’ll play it loose
Not like we have a date with destiny

It’s just a little crush
Not like I faint every time we touch
It’s just some little thing
Not like everything I do depends on you
Sha la la la, sha la la la

It’s raisin’ my adrenalin, you’re bangin’ on a heart of tin
Please don’t make too much of it, baby
Say, “That we’re forever more”
That’s not what I’m lookin’ for, all I can commit to is maybe
So let it be what it’ll be
Don’t make a fuss and go crazy over you and me
Here’s what I do, I’ll play it loose
Not like we have a date with destiny

It’s just a little crush
Not like I faint every time we touch
It’s just some little thing
Not like everything I do depends on you
Sha la la la, sha la la la

Vanilla skies
White picket fences in your eyes
A vision of you and me

It’s just a little crush
Not like I faint every time we touch
It’s just some little thing
Not like everything I do depends on you
Sha la la la, sha la la la
Not like I faint every time we touch
It’s just some little thing
Not like everything I do depends on you
Sha la la la, sha la la la

LYRICS

***

This one just happened to come on, randomly yesterday, taking me back to another time in my life.

I remember certain Christmas seasons when soft snowflakes made way to intense feelings. You’re falling, like those December snowflakes, and you can’t stop it or even seem to slow it down. A slow drifting would be nice for once.

It fits for many times though, being a song about relationships, however they begin and whatever form they take – one person might see it as no big deal, while the other can’t stay quite so nonchalant about the whole thing.

How do you know when you are falling for someone/when they will never do the same for you?

Instead, life is so complicated anyway, in so many parts and places – I imagine those snowflake stars softly falling to the ground, frenzied intensity, while I listen to this song while such a serene scene goes on right outside my window.

More “falling” to come.

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1000 Voices Speak For Compassion, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, IN THE NEWS AND ON MY MIND, Memoir and Reflections, Poetry, Shows and Events, SoCS, Spotlight Saturday, The Blind Reviewer

Oddly Shaped Pearl, #BaroqueMusic #SoCS

I hear the flock of Canada geese out my open bedroom window. They fly along, a gathering in the air, and it sounds to me like they are all having delightful conversation with each other as they fly along. It’s a honking that I hear as a chattering of all the geese gossip that’s relevant in any goose’s world.

I know I shouldn’t technically have my window open in December, but I need to feel the chilly air and to hear those gossiping geese, gathering gliding along through the sky.

I need to find those things that bring me peace, or else I’d have no choice but to turn to liquor to distract myself from so many things that gouge out my gut.

Stream of Consciousness Saturday, #SoCS

Wildfires springing up, madly in California, is just the latest place where the fire burns. Those poor horses, caught up in the inferno. Global warming…does it play a part?

Middle East peace…is it forever ellusive?

Fake news is all around us, many believe. I’m starting to greatly dislike religion and what the religious do in its name. Fake news there too?

At this time of year, a time of holiday cheer, I fear…I fear so many things for this world.

Old wooden floors creak and soft carpet underfoot. I have been in a church only twice this year, in the giant one in Mexico and now on the outskirts of the university. Will I go for three, a Christmas Eve church service?

Will I find peace there again?

And then I sit and listen, in those hard church pews I’d forgotten were so hard, to strings, strings, and more strings: violins, violas, cellos, bass, and harpsichord.

I am tense and the first half feels as hard to take in, as hard as bench under me. Then, intermission over with, they begin again and I am at peace, hard bench fading away and I rise to this occasion of experiencing some most eloquent baroque period music.

I have nothing against the horns section or woodwinds. I used to play the clarinet. Strings are where my heart lies though.

I am at attention, as violins speak to violas, back and forth is the chatter, like the geese and their horn section. Like a musical debate of things going on.

Fast or slow. Intense. Dark. Light and airy. I float along or grab on for the ride. I slide along those strings that whisk me away somewhere, somewhere where liquor is not the answer to fixing that gouge in my gut.

Music is. Music is eloquence. Music is my liquor.

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RESERVED! #TGIF #FTSF

There is a new coffee shop/bakery/cafe in my town. It reminds me of one I discovered and wanted to take home in my suitcase when I was in the Yukon six months back: Burnt Toast Cafe (Whitehorse) and Burnt Brick Cafe (Woodstock.

Both have similar names and beet salads. The similarities start and stop there.

Yes, while trying to envision the decor of this new cafe I have felt the brick wall next to my table. I called ahead and reserved a place. This means I was expected by the staff when I arrived, like I belonged there.

As I sit and eat my beet salad with goat cheese and candied pecans, I decide this will become my new out-of-the-home writing spot and I will be a local that will soon become a regular, maybe even with my own regularly reserved table where I will drink lattes and write all the things.

I would belong there.

When it comes to belonging, I know everyone says it, or at least feels it, at one time or another. We all struggle to belong somewhere. I am no exception.

I think of myself as a bit of a misfit and I have claimed the title with pride, though I live with feelings of not being enough or those of embarrassment a lot.

I want to blend in, to belong there, to belong anywhere. I want to be just another customer.

Customer. Decor. Furniture.

In the cafe today I was finding my way back to my table, after paying the bill, but before eating my dessert. I do hope to come often enough that soon enough I know my way around, but this was only my third time.

Friends either give me their arm, speak directions, or suddenly I am on my own, just me and my white cane.

It taps the metal of table legs and people stare.

Okay, so I don’t know if they do, or if they are nervous I might knock a table over or what, or maybe neither. Today, either way, one of the staff silently pushed me from behind in the name of guidance.

They didn’t do this violently or rudely, just in an attempt to show me how to find my table again.

And did I pull away, whirl around, and correct them, asking them not to put their hands on me without saying something?

Did I say politely that wasn’t the right way to go about that, to help the blind costumer who’d just spent $40 at their establishment?

No and no. I continued to use my cane to find my place and I sat down to enjoy my mini Oreo cheesecake.

I can’t just expect people to know the proper procedure, but it’s hard to explain, n the proper tone, in the moment.

I definitely don’t know how to blend in, to be just another customer, to feel like I fit in, when I feel like an object that must be moved. I say I feel like a misfit, or like a piece of miscellaneous furniture they move into its proper spot in their cafe so I am not in the way.

But do I even go with the rest of the place’s decor?

Hmm.

I should have explained why silently pushing me from behind was not the way to help someone, me, who can’t see. Somewhere inside I have the urge to whip around and tell them to take their hands off me. Or, that they should at least say something before doing it.

Anger and rudeness isn’t the answer. I want to soon be a regular there, to support the community, and to eat good food. Maybe I will even write great things there.

First, I must become comfortable there, with all them, and they must become comfortable with me too.

I want to belong somewhere, a community, even its businesses, such as interesting cafes like those you hear about in Paris, where people drink their lattes, observe people, and write.

Okay, so Woodstock is no Paris, but right now, I am the blind woman who clearly hasn’t figured out her way around quite yet. Friends don’t always know how to help and staff doesn’t yet know me either. If I wait, let time do its thing, I can hope to belong there, the woman who comes in with her laptop and her stick once a week, to her reserved people watching/writing/latte drinking table in the corner.

I can hope. I can dream.

I can do that. I can be. I can belong.

Finish the Sentence Friday:

Finding Ninee
and
Hillary Savoie
hosting.

I belong at this end-of-the-week blog exercise. I am back where I belong.

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1000 Voices Speak For Compassion, Feminism, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, Kerry's Causes, Song Lyric Sunday, Spotlight Sunday, The Insightful Wanderer, The Redefining Disability Awareness Challenge

Phoenix Force #SongLyricSunday #IDPD2017

December 3rd is
International Day of Persons with Disabilities
and this year’s theme for IDPD 2017: “Transformation towards sustainable and resilient society for all.”

All this takes courage.

Each year I live through is a lesson in courage.

Bz0l21J.jpg

But I have hope and this song makes me want to keep fighting to find my courage, through rain and winter cold and into next summer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMdyiFubOTE

With each successive year that comes and goes I keep trying and finding my faith in all things, most things anyway.

I am going to see Sarah Slean live next week, as an early Christmas gift. She is a treasure of Canada and our lesser known music scene and on the list of some unfamiliar artists and performers.

***

Sarah, gone are the days of the lonesome dove
So solitary you are tangled in love now
With layers so deep and a reach so wide
You can’t escape it and so,
Goodbye, yeah it hurts like hell
But you could not love him
And not lie to yourself, Sarah.

Sarah, falling apart at the seams this time
You lost your bearings so
Put roots in the earth now and close up the Windows, the rain has come
And tears will follow and so bear down to the Winter cold,
Come this summer this phoenix will unfold.
Just wait and see.

This is not the end.
You will be loved again.

Sarah, be not afraid of the wounded one
Who comes with poems and
To drink from the fountain
Of the little you know about love and god
And letting go but oh,
He’s been to the Shadowlands.
Still you want to love him, want to hold those Hands and hear him say “Sarah…”

This is not the end.
You will be loved again.

This is not the end.
You will be loved again.

Lyrics found here.

***

I have been playing this song on repeat lately, replacing “Sarah” with “Kerry” as I listen.

This week’s
Song Lyric Sunday
is all about courage.

I’ve needed courage to move on from love, to find it again, or to trust in loving myself alone. I’ve needed courage to take a big life step with my dreams of becoming a writer. I’ve needed courage to go on without someone I’ve loved and lost. I’ve needed courage to speak, stand, or even step. I’ve needed courage to travel unknown places.

The courage for survival. Life is about rising and falling and rising once more, rising like the phoenix bird in Harry Potter.

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In You We Trust

Some excellent advice in this one. It’s all useful for me, as I work on one of my final submission goals for a truly special year in my writing journey. Thanks Allison. Back to work on telling my story through the art of brevity of the written word.

BREVITY's Nonfiction Blog

Picture of Meryl Streep as a fashion magazine editor in The Devil Wears Prada…maybe just stop talking.

We’re settled into our seats, ready to watch Meryl Streep perform in the new musical adaptation of Gone Girl (“Gone!”). We’re leafing through Playbill, counting up Oscar nominations, when suddenly Ms. Streep steps out in front of the curtain to address the audience.

“Hi everyone, I’m really excited you’re here for this show, based on the book about a woman who fakes her own disappearance and sets her husband up for a murder rap. I hope you’ll especially enjoy the scene where I write all the journal entries at the same time with different pens.”

Wait, what?

Or she says, “In rehearsals for this show, I worked on my high E notes with a noted vocal coach at Julliard, maybe you’ve heard of him?”

Um, no.

We’re already here, Meryl. We’re ready to watch. We trust you to deliver. Just let us watch you–don’t tell us…

View original post 565 more words

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1000 Voices Speak For Compassion, Feminism, Guest Blogs and Featured Spotlights, IN THE NEWS AND ON MY MIND, Kerry's Causes, National Novel Writing Month, Special Occasions, TToT

TToT: Hard Truths And What’s In The News, #10Thankful

“Sitting at my desk at two minutes past five on a Friday afternoon, deep in the season of darkness.” (Landscape orientation) The perspective of a person sitting at a desk, closely enough that the nearest edge of the muted-toffee top does not show.”

–The Wakefield Doctrine

I borrowed this quote from fellow blogger and writer Clark because it perfectly illustrates one unique perspective, a snapshot of one person’s place and time, their own, individual experience.

But the world is full of about 7 billion more, give or take. Thankfulness works best when you are aware of how lucky you are, though then I risk feeling like I am bragging, to someone, about just how good I indeed have things.

Listening to the news is a double-edged sword for me, but I strive to always be aware of the world around me still, never to become a prisoner of my personal life’s circumstance.

Want to be happy? Be grateful.

And so my thankfuls are all tied to the stories of the day/week.

Ten Things of Thankful

I am thankful Canada celebrates Thanksgiving, the way we do, and in October.

http://www.macleans.ca/opinion/the-odd-complicated-history-of-canadian-thanksgiving/

This thankful exercise, here at the TToT, it teaches me to be thankful all year, but I do have a lot of issue with this one holiday, telling me to be thankful, while not being begun or continued in the right way.

I am thankful for real stories of pain and assault getting their chance to be heard.

http://www.macleans.ca/archives/nellie-mcclung-the-currents-of-life-grow-stronger-in-these-terrible-days/

This has gone unacknowledged for far too long. I don’t blame those who’ve experienced it for wanting not to put up with it any longer.

I am thankful for free speech…sigh.

https://www.therecord.com/news-story/7963254–i-never-thought-we-would-get-to-the-point-students-hold-free-speech-rally-at-laurier/

I am not on one side or the other of this matter. I wouldn’t be able to even choose a side for the purposes of a protest. I often wonder if that means I am someone who is unable to take a stand. In the meantime, I just stand there, on the sidelines.

I am a blind woman who sometimes has sensitivities toward ablism and then, in the next breath, wonder if I am being over sensitive. I am also someone who knows the luxury of being born in a country like Canada. I do think free speech can go too far, when it is coming from a place of fear or hate.

I am thankful Canada’s PM Justin Trudeau understands the value of apologizing.

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/trudeau-apologizes-to-newfoundland-residential-school-students-excluded-in-past/article37071843/

To show awareness of someone else’s suffering goes a long way and shows empathy. It is an acknowledgement. It is an affirmation.

Of course he won’t satisfy everyone, but he’s making an effort anyway. The gesture is not a hollow one.

I am thankful for a stable government.

http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-42071488

You might not be sure, sometimes can’t tell, and I have my doubts when I happen to catch a clip of government proceedings, but Canada is not ruled by self-interested or even brutal dictators.

I don’t know the uncertainty of such a thing.

I am thankful for having a safe place to live and that, maybe, more of Canada will soon have the same.

http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/canada-election-2015-justin-trudeau-affordable-housing-1.3220479

My privilege showing again, with this one, but the following words are from someone with a vastly different set of life experiences.

All the time, I’m aware when I speak of Canada, that we must admit and be proud of our vulnerability and our ability to want to do better.

Race. Class. It affects real people. Privilege is real.

I am thankful I don’t have an unstable workplace to go to.

https://www.express.co.uk/news/world/883375/argentina-submarine-us-navy-plane-object

I have had relatives who’ve had to work in a mine, but a submarine…oh boy.

Both scare the wits out of me, being trapped like that, and so far from and cut off from the rest of the world, in this case, being unable to get back.

I love the ocean, but being in a submarine is near the bottom of the list of places I’d like to be. And, yes, I do see the irony and the pun in this statement.

I am thankful for a fairy tale prince and his family.

http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-42137179?utm_content=bufferbf756&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=buffer

I admit it…I have imagined myself in her place, a time or two, though I realize the challenges that must exist.

I do think there is a hype that probably goes too far, but I think any romance in the world is a plus. I need stories like these. Sometimes I wonder if all is how it seems, but I really do get swept up in all the excitement, in spite of myself.

I am thankful for the kick-in-the-butt NaNoWriMo November has given me.

https://nanowrimo.org/pep-talks/roxane-gay

Okay, so I barely reached more than a few thousand words, nowhere near fifty thousand, but it got me to at least start something I’d been talking and thinking about for a long while.

I may have met the goal of National Novel Writing Month when I first attempted it, back in 2013, but once that month was over I never went back to it, to finishing anything. This time, all that matters is that I started it and will keep at it.

And so now there is no turning back on this novel I was born, in a way, to write.

I am thankful to avoid any and all Black Friday or Cyber Monday mania.

https://passport2017.ca/articles/canada-black-friday-bandwagon

I choose to focus on the parts of the holidays that make me the happiest.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDGo72bdKdU

Happy start to the holiday season. I love what Lindsey Stirling does with her violin in this one.

Enjoy.

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Crossing The Line Between, #SongLyricSunday

I am obsessed with writing, with literature, and with travel.

When does an obsession turn into something dangerous?

x5EXhAR.jpg

A relief to say, to admit honestly here, to you, that love, though wonderful )while it lasts) and difficult (when it comes to an end) doesn’t make that list.

Song Lyric Sunday, #SongLyricSunday

Obsession can be over another person (inside of or from the outside of a relationship) in love and romance, over a material object, or a place one really wishes to visit, true:

I have, in my time, become obsessed with a specific song I’d just heard. This one is full of passion that I didn’t see as anything more than that, anything bad, as a younger person who loved this song.

Romance. Passion. Nothing more than that.

Right?

***

Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide
voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time
the night is my companion, and solitude my guide
would I spend forever here and not be satisfied?

and I would be the one
to hold you down
kiss you so hard
I’ll take your breath away
and after, I’d wipe away the tears
just close your eyes dear

Through this world I’ve stumbled
so many times betrayed
trying to find an honest word to find
the truth enslaved
oh you speak to me in riddles
and you speak to me in rhymes
my body aches to breathe your breath
your words keep me alive

And I would be the one
to hold you down
kiss you so hard
I’ll take your breath away
and after, I’d wipe away the tears
just close your eyes dear

Into this night I wander
it’s morning that I dread
another day of knowing of
the path I fear to tread
oh into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
nothing stands between us here
and I won’t be denied

and I would be the one
to hold you down
kiss you so hard
I’ll take your breath away
and after, I’d wipe away the tears
just close your eyes…

LYRICS

***

WRONG!!!

One line from this song reminds me of the famous scene from Fatal Attraction. Perhaps you know the one I’m referring to, from the lyric I am singling out.

Creepy, but it speaks to an important issue, something song lyrics often does.

I guess, this week’s prompt gives me my chance to speak up on what’s going on the news lately, but on what has been really been happening all along. The topic of obsession can be easily overcome, in time, when it is the latest object in a store window or magazine or online. When it comes to a person, the line can blur, can quickly be crossed from obsession to possession, it’s a different story.

This song is not romantic, as my younger self thought, before I gave the appropriate weight, scope and gravity to all the lyrics. Rather, it is a chilling story of one person’s obsession, wish for possession, of a certain celebrity, but really, of another human being.

Possession

All the stuff Sarah sings about, from the one in the song’s perspective about holding someone down and kissing them so hard, this is the chilling thing.

If it is consensual, if one person wants to be handled this way, there is passion. In the case of this song’s topic of stocking, as a behaviour, there is nothing romantic about it. This song, then, serves as a sort of warning to keep away. Restraining orders aren’t the answer, aren’t always enough, and things can get scary, fast.

Sarah McLachlan had this happen to her, as a famous person, but there are so many variations of the kind of harassment, assault, the criminal acts we’re all hearing so much about from those in power or those who don’t know where to draw the line. We need to keep talking about things like this, not keep it all so hidden and silent.

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