Breakage, whatever its cause, is the dark complement to the act of making; the one implies the other. The thing that is broken has particular authority over the act of change.
-L.Gluck

I sigh heavy today.
I have not felt like writing--for several reasons:

*the heaviness of the divorce has been painful and awful,
the emotions run the gammet and most days I am drained and lifeless.

*I feel uncomfortable writing candidly in this space now, for fear words will be found, read, passed on and somehow misinterpreted, or worse, used in a court of law. I am angry that people cannot be trusted, that they see others as weak, try to manipulate or use them when they appear to be in a vulnerable position or state.

*I have lost my sense of empowerment that has helped me get through tough times. I have drifted and need to regain my strength.

* I just killed an enormous wasplike creature. Threw one of my divorce books from four feet and killed it. Then got out the toilet bowl cleaner and doused it, just to make sure it was really dead. I am developing a serious phobia of bugs.

I have read several books cover to cover in the past three days. Feels ok to read--but the sadness takes its place and I cry again.

Breakage, whatever its cause, is the fark complement to the act
of making; the one implies the other. The thing that is broken has particular
authority over the act of change.
-L.Gluck

I sigh heavy today.
I have not felt like writing--for several reasons:

*the heaviness of the divorce has been painful and awful,
the emotions run the gammet and most days I am drained and lifeless.

*I feel uncomfortable writing candidly in this space now, for fear words will be found, read, passed on and somehow misinterpreted, or worse, used in a court of law. I am angry that people cannot be trusted, that they see others as weak, try to manipulate or use them when they appear to be in a vulnerable position or state.

*I have lost my sense of empowerment that has helped me get through tough times. I have drifted and need to regain my strength.

* I just killed an enormous wasplike creature. Threw one of my divorce books from four feet and killed it. Then got out the toilet bowl cleaner and doused it, just to make sure it was really dead. I am developing a serious phobia of bugs.

I have read several books cover to cover in the past three days. Feels ok to read--but the sadness takes its place and I cry again.

Member of the Wedding

I used to love weddings. The pomp, the purity, the ritual.
Not this time. My first wedding alone, I went to my room before the music started.

Got home Sunday evening and while walking Kirkwood, I found THESE GUYS:




Matt and Nick Romy

a few students I have worked with in the theatre. Rogers and Rogers is the name of their band. I doubt you can see it, but Addison (snare drum) made a bass drum out of an old leather suitcase. Ahh, summer on Kirkwood.