I M Perfect lady

I'm perfect – it's impossible not to be.

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about – A Fiber Artist -passionate about women empowering.

  • Beautiful Eulogy

    I bumped into a gentleman who I had seen earlier at the funeral…and he wondered who would say his eulogy and then told me had just written a blog based on something he read in the Huffington Post… "Are you living your eulogy or your resume? His blog is…. http://blogs.mtu.edu/more-with-les/

    A great question. 

    What I know, is just having heard a eulogy about a person with a spectacular resume, the resume was not mentioned in the eulogy.  

    And it then occurred to me that you can have a great resume and a great eulogy…when you can bring your full self to your resume; where it is you doing what you love…but that it doesn't exclude family or self expression.

    Life isn't so much about what you are doing, but if you can bring your full self to all that you do.  This is the secret I believe.  The secret that my buddy was able to accomplish.  

    He never wore his resume.  

    Nor, do I believe he lived for his eulogy.

    It appeared that he just was himself…arriving into each new adventure…or greeting each person.  

    He never changed who he was for his resume or to pad his eulogy.  He just lived…as himself. Being curious and trying new things as well as remaining faithful to what he loved.

    I can imagine, but can't know it, is that the bigger the resume, the harder it is to maintain your humble self, and yet he accomplished this with ease.  Or I wonder, the more secure and confident you are with yourself…is it this that allows you to succeed.

    What drew us all to him, was his ability to remain most faithful to himself.

    He was just a regular old Joe, with a great resume and beautiful eulogy. 


  • Bye Buddy

    I listened as he spoke, and I marveled at the gentleman he was speaking of; what a class act…and yet not so classy that he didn't relate to all walks of life. And, he wasn't too perfect, but a guy who knew how to experience life and have fun…yet keeping family in sight. A rare individual.  

    A friend of his for many years spoke as his brother; buddies who have volumes of memories and tough to be the one left to speak…the one part of the whole. And, yet how grateful for all the years and memories!  

    What stands out is who he left behind and the memories they carry. The lives he touched and made better, the mark upon the souls he was in close contact with and even on us who had much less contact….we all got the full impact of this man.

    He was purely himself at all times.  Fully engaged…present and interested in the encounter.

    The last time I saw him, he wasn't himself and yet fully himself.  His spirit was in his eyes.  His body was compromised, but not his Light.  I feel bad, I didn't visit him in the later years.

    I feel that we lost a great soul and yet, I also feel that he is alive in all who he touched and he lives on.  

    He lives in the moments he enjoyed the most.

    Family.

    Buddies.

    And doing things he loved…and loving what he did…with those he loved.

    He never appeared old, and yet was 88.

    I sat and listened to the life review and thought what a success…he lived a life well lived and how his heart  touched so many, no matter the content of our friendships….brief, long-time, family, or like me an old friend of his son.

    It caught me unaware to see his picture on his memorial. To see his beautiful smiling face….to picture him gone, forever.  He treated me kind…warmly always.

    What also struck me was the difference between this beautiful man and my father.

    How little contact I had with him and how he touched my heart…a corner that will never forget him.

    My sympathies to all whose contact was so much more than mine…who will now find ways to carry on without his spirit…or perhaps be inspired to take over where he left off.

    Bye buddy…


  • Out and In.

    I was able to find the time, energy and desire to play with fabric today. I was given the border fabric from a very good friend and fellow quilter, and built inward. It was a bit challenging with the colors and Ladies gracing the borders….but, I like how it turned out.


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    She was hard to photograph….in the sun or in the shade, I couldn't get the colors to shine through, just right. But, you get the idea.


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    It was fun to play again, it seems like it has been months since I was free to just spend hours seeing what would come forth.  I am not sure about the umbrella, but once the hat seemed like a rain hat, then the boots….and why not an umbrella.

    And, yet the sky is blue.  I wondered about this….she is covered and ready, walking the dogs, perhaps she sees clouds up ahead.


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    One more try on the woodshed….to see if I can pose her in a place that compliments her.  


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    All in all a complex Lady quilt….there is lots to see and wonder about!  Ladies in the border….and she is in and out….or out and in. 

  • When I moved away.

    In watching this video on Forgiveness,by Jack Kornfield,  

    It occurred to me that the old style of forgiveness is to restore things back to normal, that it doesn't mean you ever walk away or end something, but rather that things return back to 'normal'.  

    And, I am seen as being angry and full of hatred, when I am choosing to protect or to eliminate further abuse and hurt towards me…by ending relationships.

    I honestly don't feel angry or hatred inside of me, now.

    Now, meaning since I have forgiven in the sense that I am no longer holding on to the past being different, but accepting them as who they are.  In doing so, it has allowed me to decide IF I want to be in a relationship with them.

    Do I want to subject myself to being hurt again or do I not?

    It has nothing to do with hatred or anger.

    It does have to do with loving myself enough to protect me and act responsible for my feelings and honor and respect myself enough to want relationships where I am seen and heard.

    Hatred towards them or anger towards them is not inside of me….my choices are based, NOT on them, but on me.

    I tend to move away from folks who I no longer trust.

    My body doesn't feel safe with folks who lie.

    It is about me, not them.

    I can recognize how they can project different energies about me, but inside of me, is a calm pond of peace, love and joy. And, it becomes upset and rippled with anxiety when I am not honest with myself…when I don't honor how I feel.


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    I make no appologies for how I feel inside when I am with folks who are not capable in honoring how I feel…who trample down my boundaries, who lie and holler and scream at how insane and mental I am.  It doesn't feel good inside, so I move away…keep my distance, ask for space.  

    Remember the definition of estrangement?

    "Estrange, alienate, disaffect share the sense of casings (someone) to turn away from a previously held state of affection, comradeship, or allegiance. Estrange often implies replacement of love or belonging by apathy or hostility."

    What many will fail to appreciate, is that I didn't change from love to apathy or indifference, but rather I felt it and moved away.

    The previous state of affection and comradeship between parent and child was destroyed when abuse entered into the picture.  It just took me 46 years to realize I needed to turn away.

    Each relationship I had/held changed the same way…

    The relationship changed from love to indifference or apathy.

    I never felt I left affection behind…it had already disappeared.

    Estrangement is not an unhealthy thing, but rather a very loving gesture within yourself; you are moving away from a relationship that changed. You are no longer pretending or trying to force or feel that which is no longer there.  You are honoring your body and feelings when love and belonging are replaced with indifference and apathy.

    It isn't about hatred.

    I do not hate.

    I accept the past as it was. 

    I believe I hated for many many years, in hating it could not be as I wanted it to be.

    I hated the past when I wanted it different.

    Once I accepted the past as it was, I found love.

    I did not find love in indifference or apathy.  I found love when I moved away.

  • Called it love.

    Can something be good and evil at the same time?  Is it possible that nothing is one way, but actually it can hold two diverse meanings at one time? Is one man's evil another man's love?  If so is love and evil ever changing as it is defined from man to man and woman to woman? Are the definitions the problem or is it in the perception or the eye of the beholder?

    As the discussion continues and labors forward between those in the church and those outside, those who had good experiences of the church and those didn't….as well as between my family of origin and I.

    Is there just one good church and then me bad mouthing it.

    Is there just one good family and, again…me bad mouthing it.

    Just where is the truth found?

    Is it possible that the truth is the truth for one and then the truth is the truth for the other, EVEN if those truths are completely opposite?

    How do we then know the difference between good and evil, right or wrong, love or abuse?

    Does it lie in the definitions or in the perceptions of those defining it?

    Is it possible that there is only one correct definition of love, abuse, and cult, but that each of us bring our own meaning to it by how we were taught.

    Could it be that we define love by how love was shown us?

    Not by its true meaning, but by our meaning.

    From my experience, my file managers were completely dyslexic.

    I had to look up the word "Dyslexic" to see if that makes sense.

    "a general term for disorders that involve difficulty in learning to read or interpret words, letters, and other symbols, but that do not affect general intelligence."

    Hmmm, not sure now if that works. From what I am reading, it is trouble with the letters more so than general intelligence.

    My file managers had trouble with definitions or were very creative and made them up as they went along.

    It left me with the wrong discernment of my world and the folks who I called family.

    There seems to be a wide gap between what is going on in reality and then what others see.

    I used to live in this surreal world, where it didn't touch reality…where my mind transposed definitions to create a kinder world.

    It didn't make the world kinder, but it had me Believing it was.

    I am not certain I can explain or articulate what happens to an abused child's mind.

    How its definitions get all messed up.  How it sees things but calls them incorrectly…and if untreated or unaware, they go through life NOT knowing the difference.

    Allowing them to believe that which they call love is love, when it actually abuse.

    It is like definition dyslexia…not letter and symbol dyslexia.

    You can't see correctly what is right in front of you….you define your world backwards.

    Where love doesn't mean freedom, respect, trust, etc….but it means controlled, disrespected and untrusting.  

    Love and abuse are completely flipped around.

    I know this will sound insane and completely nuts, but there is no other way to explain how so called intelligent folks are able to NoT see.

    They see, but their definitions are wrong.

    They were taught that the feelings of love, felt like neglect, disrespect, shallow, selfish, self absorbed…etc.

    How would a person know they were wrong, if the only love they ever known was abuse?  Wouldn't abuse not stand out?  

    Is it possible that if abuse was called love, that they don't know what love is?

    I think I thought, they knew both…but I forgot to remember I didn't know love until I was 46 years old.  I knew my own definition of love that I was taught as a child, but it and what I know today are not even close cousins. They are the complete opposites.

    Love's opposite was/is indifference.

    I had to look up "Indifference".

    "lack of interest in or concern about something"

    My definition of love from my childhood was indifference.

    From what I know of how my parents treated me, this is completely true.  I felt their indifference and called it love.


  • Who we truly are.

    Here is an excerpt from the book, "What we talk about when we talk about God." by Rob Bell

    "I was twenty-five years old, just starting out as a pastor, and one evening after I'd given a sermon, a man named George walked up to me and told me that I needed to go to an AA meeting.  I was totally caught off guard and muttered something about how I wasn't aware that I was an alcoholic.  He said that it didn't matter, that everything I needed to know about being a pastor I would learn if I went, and that when it came to my turn to share in the meeting I should simply say, "Hi, I'm Rob and I pass." 

    "So, I went, and it changed my life."

    "As the people when around the room and told their stories, the gears in my mind turned as fast as they could, trying to figure out and name what it was about the meeting that was so different from any other gathering I'd ever been in."

    "Slowly it dawned on me what it was: I was in a bullshit-free zone."

    "In the first meeting I went to, people were talking about the first of the twelver recovery steps, which deals with admitting your powerlessness."

    "Admitting demands Honesty."

    "Admitting demands a ruthless assessment of your condition."

    "Admitting is what happens when you've hit the wall, 

     when you have no energy left to pretend,

    when you're done playing games, 

    when you no longer care what other people think,

    when you've come to the end of yourself,

    when you're ready to embrace the truth that you need help, and that on your own you're in serious trouble because you've made a mess of things."

    "As I sat there, it was as if I could see, really see, for the first time, just how much time and energy and effort we expend making sure that everybody knows how strong, smart, quick, competent, capable, together, and good we are. (I imagine you could add your own words to the list.)"

    "It's hard to see just how much that posturing consumes us until you're in a room where it's absent – a room where people aren't doing any of that because they are giving their energies to admitting."

    "Our need to control how others see us is like a God we've been bowing down to for so long we don't even realize it  But in an AA meeting, no one has the energy left for that sort of thing. You come face to face with yourself as you truly are."

    "And now here's the twist,

    the mystery,

    the unexpected truth about admitting that takes us back to the counter-intuitive power of gospel: 

    When you come to the end of yourself, you are at that exact moment in the kind of place where you can fully experience the God who is for you."  Steven Pressfield

    I have great respect for the folks who are at the end of themselves, who live their lives in the bullshit-free zone!

    It is rare and brilliant when you see them in all their glory…uncapping their whole lives, leaving nothing out.

    Often it seems like I live in the bullshit-free zone and collide with those who are repelled by it.  It leaves us standing in a weird space. Where they can't believe my story and I can't believe theirs.  Where their bullshit doesn't fit into my world…it just doesn't make sense, doesn't fit the definition, doesn't compute or relate.

    How easy the world would be if we all were to face who we truly are.

     

  • Away from them.

    In a discussion about the FALC church, and similar others, was…whether it is a cult, cult-like or how it would be defined. I found it remarkable how some will not see the forrest for the trees or maybe how they want to keep sweet or make nice; that which misses the mark 9 out of 10 times.

    It leads me to wonder how much off you can be, before you are really way off the mark? What does it take to change your mind about something?  And is it really the misses that count or the cost it would have for you to see things clearly?

    I wonder about the stubborn mind.

    I wonder about the mind who refuses to account for the negatives OR use the negatives to balance out the positives so you end up in a neutral place…of say cordial kindness…harmlessness.

    I was also challenged with this today, in a comment on the Ex-toots blog. "To simplify people is to abandon critical thinking; it is extremism from the other side of the fence."

    I looked up critical thinking to see what it had to say first, so I knew what was what.

    "Critical thinking is a way of deciding whether a claim is always true, sometimes true, partly true, or false."

    Am I off the mark in seeing things as either true or false?

    Is there really an area in all things that is neither or both?

    What am I missing in this?  

    I don't believe I am simplifying folks, but rather the opposite.  To me simplifying is to not see the darkness.  

    Is it that we want to put the dark side and the light side and make them equal so we are both right?

    In the same comment, I was asked,  "I challenge you to ask yourself: what part of you wants to fault your siblings for accepting your parents as more than their bad acts, as worthy of love? What part of you wants them to be like you?"

    I am not certain about this whole tone of questioning, it almost makes it seem like it is my fault for faulting them. And, that It is my fault in that I don't see them (parents) worthy of love.

    I wonder when they get to be viewed?…and is there a mutual responsiblity in relationships?  

    I believe there is.

    I do not believe, anymore, in the onesided lopsided relationships where one person gives and loves and the other continues to mistreat and behave in abusive manners.

    And, there were a few more questions…."What would you lose by validating their complexity and humanity? Of embracing what you have in common instead of what separates you?"

    I am not certain I would lose by validating their complex humanity.  I would lose more by not validating it.  I do validate it.  I am under no illusion about the mind and its capabilities to distort and control the lives of humanity.

    And, what we have in common isn't so much what I see, but what they fail to see…or see with the same eyes. I see us as equals…coming from whence we all came.

    What always puzzles me is that I am challenged to make nice.

    I am challenged to see the complexity and humanity.

    I am challenged to see them worthy of love…..

    AND, they are not challenged to do the same….or even remotely equal.

    It seems to me these questions are being asked of the wrong person.

    What I have found is that more often than not, people will challenge me and my actions and never give a second glance at the actions of either the church and/or my parents…and siblings.

    The spot light shines upon the one who shines into the darkness…but the darkness doesn't have to explain its roles or behaviors….and certainly no one challenges it.

    Instead of asking me to be a critical thinker, perhaps ask that of yourself.

    I have done years and years of being a critical thinker and have faced truths and falsehoods along the way.  I haven't been extreme on one side or the other…well perhaps I am extremely interested in seeing the truth.

    To me, it just doesn't seem that the critical eye is upon the source of the agnst, but it is fully directed at me.  

    Where is the challenge to the abusers?

    Where is the challenge to the supporters…passive or aggressive…past or present?

    I don't know why I need to explain my side and they don't have to explain theirs.

    If you ask, will they answer?

    Is it easier to ask me…for you don't fear my answers?  Or are you just wanting the spotlight to fall away from them…



  • You don’t know who you are.

    "'No' can be a beautiful word, every bit as beautiful as 'yes', "writers John Robbins and Ann Mortifee declare. "Whenever we deny our need to say 'no', our self-respect diminishes," they tell us in In Search of Balance Discoverying Harmony in a Changing World. "It is not only our right at certain times to say 'no'; it is our deepest responsibility. For it is a gift to ourselves when say 'not' to those old habits that dissipate our energy, 'no' to what robs us of our inner joy, 'no' to what distracts us from our purpose. And it is a gift to others to say 'no' when their expectations do not ring true for us, for in doing so we free them to discover more fully the truth of their own path. Saying 'no' can be liberating when it expresses our commitment to take a stand for what we believe we truly need."  (from Simple Abundance, by Sarah Ban Breathnach

    No is one word that has gotten a bad rap, it is covered with negative feelings, when in fact it is the gateway to freedom.

    I love that I can say no.  I love that I can signify no. I love that I use No.

    No is the word that is taken from us in abuse.

    No was also removed in Religion, where choices were sliced away.

    As Byron Katie says, "If you can't say NO, I don't trust your YES."

    I am not sure if you can maintain your own boundaries without the use of the word No. In fact, I would say it is impossible.  

    By removing a child's ability to say No, we are setting them up to live without boundaries. The greatest gift we can give our children is the ability to say no, especially to us.  Relationships without No, are not healthy.

    I honor the word No much more than the word Yes. Yes is typically used for something you like and is joyful and easy.

    No is a word that may come out shaky and filled with anxiety…as we begin to reclaim our lives and our choices.

    No is a word that signifies a choice.

    It means 'no thank you'…I pass.

    I will sit this one out.

    No is a word of power of empowerment…a vote for what you believe in, what you stand for or stand against.

    Without No, a Yes isn't so positive, but just a way to keep from kicking up dust or making a fuss.  Yes is easy it requires no self control or power.  It goes along to get along. It is to stay with the crowd and not stand out.  It is the weakest of the two words…and the path most traveled.

    Once No is an option…you are able to discern your preference.

    Without a preference you are held prisoner to another's wishes/dreams or commands.

    Imagine No is a way out of old habits…cults, abuse, bad relationships, etc.

    The ability to say yes OR no, is freedom.

    And, if you don't have the power to use No, you will not understand those who can and will feel their No affects you.

    Once you use No liberally, you will allow others to do so as well.  It separates and unhooks you from others.  You become a free unit.

    No has been my greatest gift to me.

    I do not trust anyone who can't say No.

    A person without the capabilities to say no, appear foggy to me; unclear.

    Definition is decided with No…and Yes….but not with just yes.

    Always saying yes, means you don't know who you are.

     


  • Believing in the Impossible.

    The following is the transcript from Diane Benscoter's talk at TED…"How Cults Rewire the Brain."

    My journey to coming here today started in 1974. That's me with the funny gloves. I was 17 and going on a peace walk. What I didn't know though, was most of those people, standing there with me, were Moonies. (Laughter) And within a week I had come to believe that the second coming of Christ had occurred, that it was Sun Myung Moon, and that I had been specially chosen and prepared by God to be his disciple.

    Now as cool as that sounds, my family was not that thrilled with this. (Laughter) And they tried everything they could to get me out of there. There was an underground railroad of sorts that was going on during those years. Maybe some of you remember it. They were called deprogrammers. And after about five long years my family had me deprogrammed. And I then became a deprogrammer. I started going out on cases. And after about five years of doing this, I was arrested for kidnapping. Most of the cases I went out on were called involuntary. What happened was that the family had to get their loved ones some safe place somehow. And so they took them to some safe place. And we would come in and talk to them, usually for about a week. And so after this happened, I decided it was a good time to turn my back on this work.


    And about 20 years went by. There was a burning question though that would not leave me. And that was, "How did this happen to me?" And in fact, what did happen to my brain? Because something did. And so I decided to write a book, a memoir, about this decade of my life.

    And toward the end of writing that book there was a documentary that came out. It was on Jonestown. And it had a chilling effect on me. These are the dead in Jonestown. About 900 people died that day, most of them taking their own lives. Women gave poison to their babies, and watched foam come from their mouths as they died.

    The top picture is a group of Moonies that have been blessed by their messiah. Their mates were chosen for them. The bottom picture is Hitler youth. This is the leg of a suicide bomber. The thing I had to admit to myself, with great repulsion, was that I get it. I understand how this could happen. I understand how someone's brain, how someone's mind can come to the place where it makes sense — in fact it would be wrong, when your brain is working like that — not to try to save the world through genocide.

    And so what is this? How does this work? And how I've come to view what happened to me is a viral, memetic infection. For those of you who aren't familiar with memetics, a meme has been defined as an idea that replicates in the human brain and moves from brain to brain like a virus, much like a virus. The way a virus works is — it can infect and do the most damage to someone who has a compromised immune system.

    In 1974, I was young, I was naive, and I was pretty lost in my world. I was really idealistic. These easy ideas to complex questions are very appealing when you are emotionally vulnerable. What happens is that circular logic takes over. "Moon is one with God. God is going to fix all the problems in the world. All I have to do is humbly follow. Because God is going to stop war and hunger — all these things I wanted to do — all I have to do is humbly follow. Because after all, God is [working through] the messiah. He's going to fix all this." It becomes impenetrable. And the most dangerous part of this is that is creates "us" and "them," "right" and "wrong," "good" and "evil." And it makes anything possible, makes anything rationalizable.

    And the thing is, though, if you looked at my brain during those years in the Moonies — neuroscience is expanding exponentially, as Ray Kurzweil said yesterday. Science is expanding. We're beginning to look inside the brain. And so if you looked at my brain, or any brain that's infected with a viral memetic infection like this, and compared it to anyone in this room, or anyone who uses critical thinking on a regular basis, I am convinced it would look very, very different.
    And that, strange as it may sound, gives me hope.

    And the reason that gives me hope is that the first thing is to admit that we have a problem. But it's a human problem. It's a scientific problem, if you will. It happens in the human brain. There is no evil force out there to get us. And so this is something that, through research and education, I believe that we can solve. And so the first step is to realize that we can do this together, and that there is no "us" and "them." Thank you very much (Diane)

    What I understand the most is the circular brain and the memic virus in how it doesn't allow for a rational thought to come in.  It is the answer to how my family of origin can keep thinking and believing in something that is so insidious…as there is love where abuse lives.  And how the FALC and dysfunctional families are able to flourish with such insane beliefs.  A memic infection.  

    It is beyond reason…their circular thinking won't allow for critical thinking.

    My experience is that their brains will not allow another viewpoint.

    And, it would literally take someone to deprogram them.

    I totally get the brain that has been infected by a memic ideal and/or belief.

    And this paragraph alone explains their thinking…..

    It becomes impenetrable. And the most dangerous part of this is that is creates "us" and "them," "right" and "wrong," "good" and "evil." And it makes anything possible, makes anything rationalizable.

    In making anything rationalizable….is perhaps the most damaging part.  For it removes the critical discernment between where reality lies and fictional or improbable outcomes.  Leaving them believing in the impossible.


  • Try and Make Nice.

    "The Artist committing himself to his calling has volunteered for hell, whether he knows it or not. He will be dining for the duration on a diet of isolation, rejection, self-doubt, despair, ridicule, contempt, and humiliation."  Steven Pressfield

    This is a true statement…in my experience as I attempt to follow what I see is my calling, in speaking up as a victim of sexual abuse…and using my Art Therapy Quilts as a way to raise awareness, to foster courage and allow others who find themselves in opposition with their families due to abuse.

    It truly never was a dream of mine to be a thorn in the side of many or to live unveiled and without secrets, or to experience in life contempt, disdain, rejection isolation from family…whose eventual outcome was estrangement.

     I had never been one to make waves within the family and would have done most anything so as not to be ridiculed or seen with sheer contempt….and yet, now I am literally and consciously doing things that bring out the worst in my family.  I do so, not to anger them, but to do what I feel is my soul's work.

    In order to live what I believe, I will knowingly upset them…more than I already have.

    I even contemplated my own actions or non-actions and wondered just where am I…when my body and intuition or spirit refuses to even behave in a way as one person put it, human.

    And then I swing back to the reasons I am doing this new calling gig that was chosen for me.  Now there is non-human behavior…when a father abuses his child.

     Last night I had asked in desperation, just what is my intentions, am I acting inhumane?  Have I lost it?  What is the landscape and where do I stand? Is this agitator lifestyle my lot in life now?  Am I unable to be kind or nice or social when it comes to my family of origin?  Is this forever?  The new unliked me among them?

    I had dreams last night…two of them.  Both were of adults acting in inappropriate ways, with children present and the adults unconcerned in the least.  As I tried to reason with them, they wouldn't take me serious…

    I awoke with a feeling that it isn't I who is acting unusual…

    I understand that I was dreaming. I also understand, that my dreams are a place where I find answers, when I ask in desperation…showing me clearly by the feelings of the dreams.

    And then this morning continued to read Steven Pressfield's book, "The War of Art".

    "Remember, the part of us that we imagine needs healing is not the part we create from; that part is far deeper and stronger. The part we create from can't be touched by anything our parents did, or society did. That part is unsullied, uncorrupted; soundproof, waterproof, and bulletproot. In fact, the more troubles we've got, the better and richer that part becomes."

    So, IF I am reading this correctly, the more trouble I have in dealing/relating/socializing with my estranged family, the better and richer is my creativity…

    Here is another section I loved….

    "Resistance and Isolation"

    "Friends sometimes ask, "Don't you get lonely sitting by yourself all day?"  At first it seemed odd to hear myself answer No. Then I realized that I was not alone; I was in the book; I was with the characters. I was with my Self."

    "Not only do I not feel alone with my characters; they are more vivid and interesting to me than the people in my real life. If you think about it, the case can't be otherwise. In order for a book (or any project or enterprise) to hold our attention for the length of time it takes to unfold itself, it has to plug into some internal perplexity or passion that is paramount importance to us. That problem becomes the theme of our work, even if we can't at the start understand or articulate it. As the characters arise, each embodies infallibly an aspect of that dilemma, that perplexity.These characters might not be interesting to anyone else but they're absolutely fascinating to us. They are us. Meaner, smarter, sexier versions of ourselves. It's fun to be with them because they're wrestling with the same issues that has its hooks into us. They're our soul mates, our lovers, our best friends. Even the villians. Especially the villians."

    "Even in a book like this, which has no characters, I don't feel alone because I'm imagining the reader, whom I conjure as an aspiring artist much like my own younger, less grizzled self, to whom I hope to impart a little starch and inspiration and prime, a little, with some hard-knocks wisdom and a few tricks of the trade." Steven

    What I love about the Artist that he writes about….I can see this is how I am with the Lady Quilts….and then how I am as I write this blog.  I am isolated, rejected and looked at with contempt from my family….but, there are others like me who I am connected with as they view My Ladies…or read my words and experiences.

    I guess what I know the most, is that my group or like minded folks are no longer my family…I don't resonate with understanding anymore.

    Where I used to be one with them…I am now at odds…and it would insult my calling or soul's voice to try and make nice.