The great 48

Today is my birthday, my start of the new year.  I am full of resolve and resolutions, reflections and distractions- I want to do so many things.  I want to write everyone a letter, telling them my truths- how much they are appreciated and loved, how sorry I am for being disconnected, how they are part of my life even if it is not realized. I want to write a letter to myself, about the same things, about defining who I am and who I have been and who I may yet be.  

Today, today I am forty-eight years old.  I am married, I have one child who is grown, I live in a tumbledown cottage in an overgrown yarden with two doggs and a cat.  I eat too much, work too much, yet feel guilty for not working enough- because I get distracted with knowledge and end up side tracked into all sorts of things.  I love stories, food, sleeping- because my sleep is full of dreams.  My dreams are like other realities- you are all there, off and on, and there is adventures, and places, making things, thinking things, conversations, food and drink and music and lovely smells.  It is strange, because I love you all- family, friends, students- so much that you are part of my unconscious, and I forget that I need to connect consciously as well.  And sometimes it is difficult to connect, to find the words to say in person, in conversation, because it is so easy to just talk about the trivial or not talk at all- I have difficulty in communicating sometimes, it is hard to be 'normal' in groups, join conversations...one on one I am fine, but give me a group and I shut up.  Unless I am speaking in an 'official' role- as a teacher or student- then I am fine holding the floor.  I have no fear of public speaking in front of a crowd- but put me in the crowd and I vanish into the wall paper. Odd. 

Sometimes writing is hard to- but I love it.  I like to type much better than write by hand, and I love the format of the internet- the quick updates on facebook, which are like fleeting emotions and glimpses into everyones lives.  I like the emails- the letters that let me know what is going on.  I love (and am currently obsessed) by the new toy Pintrest- because I can collect images, organize and sort them, *show* others how I think- I'm visual and this is so so so fun.....I worry about over posting, pinning to many things, and then I think- why not?  If they don't want to see it, just unfollow me.... choices, choices. I wish Mother could use the internet- she would love making design boards...it's almost like a portable sketchbook for information- 

So back to the blog.  And I know that I am rambling a bit and not making much sense this morning, but I have to allow myself to say, 'that's ok'. Write for yourself first- selfish as that may sound- and if others want to read it, so be it.  I want to return to the blog, to sharing my thoughts and what goes on~ if I write in a narrative, it is easier to communicate than other wise... but yet, today the words are coming on all blocky and strange. I just want you to know that all is well, and that I am working my way back home.  (metaphorically- in truth, I haven't gone anywhere....but my mind has been 'elsewhere'.)

love you all.