Category Archives: miscellania

songs about mom

Someone found this blog searching for “songs about mom.” That made me ache a little bit, the simple poetry of the phrase. The fact that some zeros and ones somewhere saw my blog as a song about mom.

This is my favorite song about mom- Mama by Beth Hart. Whoever posted it disabled embedding, but if you haver heard it, click. It thrusts right into your chest and grabs your heart and squeezes hard. I think I’ve heard it two thousand times and I tear up every single time. In lieu of embedding Mama, here is Skin, which is similarly gut-wrenching.

Advertisements

twitter sushi

I’m interested in the fact that I ❤ Twitter so much, in sharp contrast to the Great Twitter Antipathy espoused by a great many of my like-minded interweb friends. Because over analyzing the innocuous mundane is totally my groove, I thought I’d spend precious brain energy examining my love of things that go tweet.

Attention Defi- Ooh! Shiny!

I have the attention span of a gnat on crystal meth, so I’m a compulsive taker of little itty breaks from longer tasks. Witness sometime the exponential increase in my twittery on long workdays or my “art day” bursts. I haven’t determined if my spazzy brain is an asset or a hindrance, but Twitter appeals deeply to my love of a quick flirty little distraction in the midst of doing actual work.

Working Mom and WAHM Wannabe

My office job is very feast or famine. During the famines, I be tweetin’. During the feast, I be taking some tweet breaks to stay sane. My work at home days are also massive tweeting days. I also justify my habit by following inspirational business twitterers like eMom and bethdunn who help keep my WAHM-designer-and-artist dreams in my consciousness.

Connectedness in General: I Loves Me Some

I have felt a generous dose of alienation since I was able to form thoughts. Allow me a tiny little bit more angst allowance than your usual artsy fuck because I have met a whopping three other people whose bodies look like mine. As I mature I realize the whole Elephant Girl zOMG I am such a gloriously freakish weirdo is much inflated in my head, but in my formative years I decided I was Different From Everyone Else on the planet, so it’s taken some time to realize I am almost utterly normal.

So, this little alienation thing I have going on has lead me to think a lot about the concept of tribes. My zillions of hours logged in the blogosphere shows me that the idea of recreating a tribal consciousness is a real phenomenon and that people are connecting online with groups of kindred spirits by the thousands and that rocks my socks. I can’t count how many bloggers and LiveJournalers and forum stalkers have commented on the awesomeness of finding their tribe online. I am so right there with them. I have found a whole bunch of people who

love to write
do it well
have snarky irreverent wit
are super smart
are interested in my pop culturey stuffs
are interested in my “real” culturey stuffs
approach parenting the way I do
think as much as I do, think about thinking as much as I do, and know what “meta” means
etc…

To sum up: internet = the mothership. I am home. Twitter offers constant contact, and therefore constant social belonging and communication. Seriously, it’s like an antidepressant. Or at least a bong hit. Or something. Just seeing how many drug references I can jam into one post.

Witty Deliciousness

I love the brevity and compactness of a Tweet. It’s like a Hershey’s kiss or a single piece of sushi- just a little concentrated bite of goodness. (Food metaphors are the new drug references.) I love seeing a small snapshot or impression of someone’s mind. They are like haiku or fortune cookies or postcards.

If you aren’t a hater (and dude- I get why you are. Your opinions are so having of the truthiness ring) and aren’t following me already, my Twitter handle is daisybones too:)

correction. am a dork.

Hi, I totally misquoted Rusted Root, I discovered today. And not just in the middle of a wordy post all hidden and hunkered down hoping you wouldn’t notice. No, it was right in the title. It was the title. If you see Rusted Root, will you please tell them that “lick from the wounds” is a way better lyric than “leap from the wounds”?

Sigh. I hate when I mistake lyrics and think mine are better. I have other examples but I can’t grab them just now. They are swimming in a puddle of tired monkey brain. Bedtime now plz? KTHXBAI.

some information

I got in!

Am officially an artist again:) The new thing and an old piece were accepted. w00t!

My eye

Is OK. It’s very red & teary and scratchy plus sore deep inside. Feels like you’d imagine after the intentional roughing up and poking holes in my cornea. (Oh, Eden. Tell Hawk I was wrong. I have corneal erosion, not corneal dystrophy. Makes more sense- the doc has just checked the wrong box on my old discharge form. He did corneal puncture and debridement.) It was not as terrifying as I’d imagined. He said to find a focus and I zoned in on the Z from the eye chart. Z is for zen. Z is for zen. See? Give me a mantra and I can meditate like crazy:)

Sexography

Received a notice from the folks running the Sexography blogging project:

We wanted to let you know that unfortunately, RAINN’s donation site has a glitch in it that won’t allow people who donate using PayPal to enter anything into the “donation in honor of” field. Anyone who has donated using a credit card hasn’t had this issue, however, so it’s just affected the PayPal users. In order to calculate the winner for the grand prize, it would help us if you could ask your readers to share with you their donation amount and transaction number for their PayPal donation. We realize this is somewhat inconvenient for you, but we only learned of this issue last week, and are hoping to work with RAINN to have it solved soon (though that may not happen before the end of the fundraiser.)

If you donated via Paypal, you can let me know your amount either in comments or send a private e-mail to daisybones AT gmail DOT com.

Earth Day

Wishing you a happy one. And Molly’s sweet little paintings raised $28 for We Can Solve It!

equal pay day

Blog for Fair Pay

Adding a worn-out-baby-awake-at-2am-then-she-pooped-in-the-freakin’-tub-this-morning working mama’s voice to the Equal Pay Day awareness effort. Too busy working to get into the post I want to make about working motherhood. (The gist: It Sucks!/It Rocks!)

“lick from the wounds of your fears”

My currently-favorite Rusted Root song is carrying me through the doubts and insecurities that come with applying to this art exhibit. The piece is ready, I’m delivering the CD and application today.

I rather suddenly became certain last night that the piece won’t be accepted. My reasoning isn’t that it isn’t great- I feel good about it. My certainty is that it won’t fit with the rest of the submissions which I anticipate to me much more graceful and quiet and elegant. Bu agrees, and shrugged that it might be too different to be included but also affirmed it awesomeness.

I said

Motherhood isn’t fluffy cuddliness and pink roses. It’s animally, growly fierceness and like… mama bear. And bloody. Primal.  ‘Specially with no epidural. *goofy but proud warrior mama grin*

I’ll wait to show you the finished whole thing, but here is another detail. I’m not trying to be all artificial and inflated egoish with the suspense; I’m just listening to intuition that says Wait. I’m kind of hesitant to slap it up online with a real name copyright watermark and equally scared to do so without. Meh.

detail of \"Written in my Scars\"

::clicky::

“All I want is food and creative love.”

completion, a story told

I missed the part where there are weekly winners in the Sexography Grassroots Blogger Book Marketing Campaign. I noticed the link to RAINN and the awesomeness of the premier entries and I happily signed up without thinking (until after the first “submit button heart palpitations.”) Then just this minute I logged into my WP dashboard and saw a new incoming link from Kapgar and realized that my Primal Scream entry was picked for this past week’s winner.

I feel such an emotional stew in my belly with this- coming on the heels of mom’s birthday it feels like a gift to her and that shakes me. Recently, the painting I think I mentioned before came back into my awareness. I’d made a fire breathing goddess painting for V-Day and it was sold in an art auction for a Rape Crisis network in town. I found out last week that a midwife I admire a lot (the only one who does home births in my town- maybe my state) had bought it. She had just then connected my mommy posts on an email network with my signature on the painting. She told me she has used it to help teens and young women talk about abuse and anger and I fell apart in tears of amazed gratitude.

The feeling of carrying this burden on mom’s behalf makes this such a healing experience- writing and painting and screaming for her.

Thank you.

_________________

This post is a celebration of the Sexography project in support of RAINN– the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network. RAINN provides information, education, outreach and other services. Among its programs, created and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1.800.656.HOPE. Please consider a donation to RAINN. If you donate, please mention the Daisybones blog and note “GBBMC:08″ in the “donation in honor of” section (in addition to anyone you want to honor, including yourself.) This will allow project-related donations to be tracked, and every donation sent from my blog will be (to me) regarded as honoring my mother and all others who were kept silent. Thank you.