It can be hard to lose someone you love, but it's just weird sometimes to lose A FB friend that you hardly knew

 It can be hard to lose someone you love, but it's just weird sometimes to lose A FB friend that you hardly knew but briefly shared so much with. In the pain of separating from someone that I really did love, and for a long time...I temporarily lost all interest in sex...so when those feelings returned, in the midst of an online chat with a friend, I savored the moment. The initial hit was so delicious, I wanted more, but soon discovered that more was less. I the more I "saw" of him, and he saw of me as we progressed to Skype and video chat, the less we connected in that raw sensual place. He wanted more and more visual stimulation to take him to that place... and I become more and more  - BORED. For me cyber sex is like going to a restaurant when you're hungry, and then just watching a movie about food. It doesn't satisfy. Not me anyway. Cyber love, and being a cyber love goddess/whore obviously doesn't appeal to me as much as it does to me as it does to some people. The fantasy world of online relationships, is probably a lot easier to maintain than anything real in "this" world. Some people appear to be experts at seductive poses, and creating seductive online selves that bare little resemblance to the person you meet in the flesh. Even I, yes I -  have been known to fall victim to my own photography. A flick of a switch and a bit of kindly arranged lighting, and ten years can be shaved off instantly and captured in video or even better, in a still shot. Tweek the angles to enhance even more...
 It's fun once, at least for me, but not long after the first time, I'm looking for excuses to get out of that game of "tell me I'm beautiful and I'll tell you, you are too".There comes a time when I would rather have a great discussion with someone really passionate about just about anything other than sex. Rahn needed his visual senses stimulated, I need my brain cells to be stimulated, at least some of the time, to feel sexy. I need my fun cells zapped occasionally too. The visual thing is sometimes too this world real for me. I need escape, a bit of internal stimulation of the imagination. Something (anything) happening on the inner realms.....
 So I tried a bit of "real" love today - and that was equally confusing. Anyway, am feeling tired, a bit boring...maybe time to go to bed and come back to this later.

Painting my way out..

 

 Waiting for a guy to come & "fix" a computer that's been working perfectly for days now. Tried to tell Frank that the last computer that I "healed" is still working perfectly months later. A combination of using reiki and then applying the law of attraction of simply expecting it to work, has coincided with it actually working. Who am I to say I had anything to do with it? But before it was crashing constantly and responding like a snail in hibernation, and now it just works fine, and this one seems to be doing the same.

 Now if only I could do that with my life? Is it as simple as just expecting it to work?? The sun's shining today, the gloom of the past few days has lifted and anything seems possible...

 Living in this house with it's silent kid's, feeling under pressure to stay here while I go through the daunting process of filing for bankruptcy has been pushing me to a new level of craziness. I'm a bird that likes to fly, who's wings are being clipped. The process requires a landline phone number. That mean's I need to be hanging around at my sisters house with the kids that treat me like I'm invisible, waiting to answer that phone should it ring. It also means I have to make phone calls to all my creditors - enjoyable & uplifting I'm sure that will be. I've put it off forever but the time really is NOW & I can't run away any more.

 I don't mind the silence, it's peaceful...but when I say hello and no one answers, I realise I should have got to know them long before they were teenagers. Now before you judge me, why that didn't happen is another story. It's a long and complicated story that ends at the point that I realise that now is the only thing I can ever do anything about.( It's about as long and complicated as the story of my finances, and again now is the only place I can fix it from). At the moment I'm just the person that eats the food, and takes up space one of the 3 computers that they could be using. Conversation is off limits... (unless I want to go the path of asking dumb questions and getting blank stares as a response) So I have to approach this from other directions... I don't have money, so I can't buy them the deeply thought out presents that I used to. The withdrawal of presents the last couple of years probably isn't helping our relationship much.

 I don't want to paint myself as a loser, but being here right now in this house, with these kids in this situation, I could go right under into serious depression. I've been hanging out in nature a lot the last few years. The peace and stillness I find there is pretty much the antidote to everything. When you live in a van, nature is the one thing that's more accessible than when you live in a house with a million things competing for your attention. When there's no computer and no TV,  a vista of coastal beauty is easy to take up instead. But I can't do that NOW. I'm stuck here. I feel the repression of kids locked up in themselves, dovetailing with my own need for escape. I've painted myself into a corner, Now I have to PAINT myself out of it literally.

 Last night I felt like a bomb about to go off, that couldn't go off, so was imploding and destroying my soul instead.  There's something about being on a computer all day that doesn't help anything to feel good. But this painting that a friend shared on facebook stirred something in me...

and I looked at some of my own paintings from long ago...and this one, though much simpler than the one above, felt good. It felt like the place I could escape to..

 I've been carrying around an unfinished painting in my car for months, so now's the time to get it out, plant it on the kitchen table and paint the place I want to be - creative and free.

Wise words From another Writer.

  This is an interview taken from http://www.advicetowriters.com

 

Alexia Casale

 How did you become a writer? I’ve wanted to be a writer since before I can remember so, from the time I mastered my dyslexia and dyspraxia enough to put pen to paper and create things that looked vaguely like words, I did. It was pretty hit and miss to start off with as I had enough trouble writing shopping lists (‘keesh’ for dinner anyone?), but I had a wonderful tutor, Maureen Cook, who eventually taught me how to read… and then I was off. I started writing my first novel before I turned ten and haven’t stopped since. Throughout my teens many manuscripts, in many genres, were started and then abandoned as unsatisfactory. When it came time to choose what I would do at university, I decided that there wasn’t much point learning how to write if I had nothing to write about; I took Social and Political Sciences, majoring in Psychology, as that lies at the core of the subject matter I am most passionate about as a writer. After finishing my first degree, I started looking for an agent in and around various jobs and various other degrees.
I submitted three different novels to agents before the wonderful Claire Wilson at Rogers, Coleridge & White offered me representation after reading The Bone Dragon (it’s psychological thriller rather than fantasy in case you were wondering about the genre!). To be fair, I had only sent each previous manuscript to a scant handful of agents so I wasn’t very surprised that getting signed took a while. Knowing that most writers make a lot of submissions before getting an agent, I figured that, instead of trying and trying and trying again with the same manuscript, I should give each book a shot with a few people then, if I got rejected (as I did), I could take the feedback and go away and improve my work before trying again with a new project. The plan was to gradually inch forwards, improving from book to book, to the point at which I’d get a yes.
I had a feeling about The Bone Dragon when I wrote the first page. It just felt like the right book at the right time. It’s telling that, for the first time, I was prepared to keep submitting until I got a ‘yes’ or ran out of agencies to submit to. But I didn’t need to. Claire offered me representation within 48 hours of being sent the full manuscript and less than two months later the book sold in a three-way bidding war to Faber and Faber. Not long after, Carlsen bought the German rights. Now, the final proofs are nearly ready and then it’s just the wait until the book is released on 2 May 2013. So, Chapter 1: Getting an Agent, Getting Published is finally finished. Soon it’ll be time to start on Chapter 2: So How’s Publication Working Out for You? Cross fingers!

 Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.). As a child, I spent a lot of time with my maternal grandparents, listening to their stories about the past – though my grandfather also made up the most wonderful stories combining all sorts of books with real figures from history: Robin Hood meets Queen Elizabeth I was one of my favourites. I think that was probably what triggered my passion for storytelling.
In terms of direct writing influences, I am in awe of Barbara Kingsolver’s craft. She can pack an incredible amount of beauty, plot and characterisation into even the shortest sentence. I would love to have her command of technique. Children’s writer Diana Wynne Jones has an enviable ability to create likeable, three-dimensional characters with just a few ‘brush strokes’: I admire her efficiency. And her sense of humour.
That said, like most writers I find inspiration in all sorts of things: books, poems, paintings, films, anime, beautiful scenery, flowers, music… This tends to be reflected in my writing. The Bone Dragon mentions plays (Hamlet, The Tempest), films (including Hitchcock’s Spellbound), poems (including ‘The Lady of Shalott’, paintings (including ‘Miranda and the Tempest’), a statue and several other books. For me, the world of the book just wouldn’t be complete without bringing in all those connections.
Finally, a special mention must go to the fiercely amazing Pat Neal, who gave me my first piece of serious criticism… and who continues to be the first person to read my work.

 When and where do you write? I have a lovely study in a converted attic with a view of roofs, trees and even some distant hills. Most of all it’s bright, with lots of natural light. I’m in the process of reorganising at the moment to make the room less chaotic, so it’s even messier than usual, but it will remain scattered with various beautiful things, including pictures, cards, stones, shells, glass animals, the odd shiny knife (I like shiny knives), dried flowers, sugar-flowers and books, books, books, books and more books.
I also love to write in the garden, provided there’s nothing noisy going on nearby.
As for timing, I write whenever I can, day or night. I start as early as I can and keep going until I get stuck. Then I work on getting unstuck. Then I carry on until I’m too tired to keep going.

 What are you working on now? Too many things: the screenplay for The Bone Dragon; a historical novel set during WWII (a new version of the novel I wrote as part of my PhD); and a second YA/crossover psychological thriller. I’m also working, in the back of my mind, on restructuring the manuscripts that I tried submitting before The Bone Dragon. I think I might now have the skill to turn them into good books.

 Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? Nope. I don’t believe in it. I get stuck all the time – on a daily basis actually. But even when I get stuck for weeks and months at a time I don’t see this as some sort of pseudo-illness. Usually I’m stuck because I don’t know how to solve a problem with whatever I’m working on. Or I’m standing in my own way for any number of reasons – fear of failure, not having enough emotional resilience because of difficulties in other areas of my life… But I never say I’m blocked. I just tell myself that I’m stuck and I’d better unstick myself if I want to call myself a professional writer.

 What’s your advice to new writers? Be honest with yourself about what you want to achieve, why you want to achieve it and how much it matters to you. Then put in the work necessary to achieve what you really care about achieving.
Don’t spend time worrying about whether or not you’re talented: there’s nothing you can do about your natural ability. Take control of the thing you can do something about: how hard you work. Work (then work some more) on every aspect of your technique, including grammar and punctuation. Decent grammar and punctuation isn’t that hard to master so if you can’t be bothered agents, publishers and other writers will be inclined to think you don’t care very much about writing after all.
Read. Everyone says it and everyone is right to. Read. But write too. The best way to learn about writing is to write. And write some more. At the start, don’t worry about writing something worth publishing. If you write something great, then see if you can get it picked up. If it’s not so great, then remember it’s still good practice so the time and effort is not wasted.
Finally, don’t be in too great a rush. It’s vital to be passionate and to feel a driving need to achieve your goals. But remember that most writers have to write for years before they get an agent and often for months or years after that before they get published. There’s no harm in wanting it to happen fast, but don’t want speedy success to the point where you paralyse yourself as a writer if it doesn’t happen right away. Remember that most people get there by inching towards their goal, not performing a long-jump over the frustrating, heart-breaking stages of rejection. And while you’re waiting, you’re probably becoming a better writer so, once you get that miraculous, vital ‘yes’ you’ll be able to move ahead much more effectively in your writing career than if you got a ‘yes’ based more on luck and talent than graft and hard work. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with luck and talent, but both can let you down: hard work rarely does in the long run.

 Bio: A British-American citizen of Italian heritage, Alexia is an editor, teacher and writing consultant. After studying psychology then educational technology at Cambridge, she moved to New York to work on a Tony-award-winning Broadway show before completing a PhD and teaching qualification. In between, she worked as a West End script-critic, box-office manager for a music festival and executive editor of a human rights journal. She loves cats, collects glass animals and interesting knives, and has always wanted a dragon. Luckily, she has her very own rib in a pot…
The Bone Dragon is now available for pre-order at Waterstones, Amazon and WHSmith.

I Don't Want to be Donald Trump.

 And that is pretty much the problem, I don't want to be Donald Trump. I was never meant to be Donald Trump. I'm not saying he's not following his heart, but I was meant to be following mine. We all have our gifts, and building an empire is not mine. The small and subtle speak loudly to me. I find pleasure in simplicity. Like the simple pleasure of watching a kitten play. Or the intoxicating shock of diving into freezing cold water, and then as my body adjusts, the pure absolute bliss of being one with the river, the lake, the mountains. Nothing can beat that feeling, no amount of money, no castle, no awards or trophies...and I should have always remembered that.

 But the good thing is that life never forgets who we really are. It's always trying to take us back to the place where we knew who we were.

From Hero to Zero

 message to my son -

- I'm starting on the bankruptcy thing this week, need to be out at Aunties to have access to phone and comp, it's a process that requires a lot of information and focus to complete. Was great to see you, will be parking in town at usual carpark fri night if that helps.

Reply from son -

 - Congratulations, you are a perfect example of exactly how much wealth, success and prosperity one can achieve using the power of the law of attraction.

 How can I say that I feel healthier than I have for a long time? That my appreciation for life has skyrocketed while my finances have been fading. The debts I'm about to write off aren't new. I haven't borrowed money for years. But I can see that no one in their right mind would use me as an example of how to apply the law of attraction.

 However the struggle of the last few years has taken me to a place of surrender...and I feel an abundance of peace that makes life worth living again. I've lost my home, and my only possessions are a run down car/van that I sleep in, a few clothes and a violin. But I've found true friends and a spiritual ground beneath my feet that's as secure as any brick and tile home. My minds no longer full of thoughts competing to put me down. The skies opened up and the sun of hope has come out. The constant tension, anxiety and fear around money has been replaced with a stillness that is full of a quiet loving presence.

 Yesterday was the day I was going to start the online procedure for bankruptcy, but the website was down - so now is the time to stop writing for a while, and start the first step - completing the online registration form.

 Every now and then I remind myself that Donald Trump went through bankruptcy too.

The Zen of Writing.

 The rule, in the Zen of writing, is that there are no rules. It's a practice of writing where the ego is left behind.The goals and ambitions of this world left behind. It's not about beating the ego into submission, just gently or firmly placing it aside and letting thoughts roam freely across the page. I guess it's about trusting what comes up - trusting the process. Flowing with the river of life instead of against it. And it's about being present right now. So when the words stop flowing, return to what's in your awareness in this moment.

  For me it's the washing machine in it's last stage of the spin cycle. It's a large industrial machine, the kind you need when there are four teenagers and two adults in the house...plus me, the teenager in an adult body. You'd expect with so many teens running around that they'd be at least a bit of madness and mayhem, but it's nearly always so quiet here. Just the hum of machines and the occasional  rattle of dishes being washed. Even the neighbours cat has worked out that this is by far the cruisiest house the street. Every night in winter it finds a spot to bathe in the warmth of the fire, and sleep uninterrupted til morning.

I can hear birds fighting outside, and the sound is louder than anything going on inside. It'd be great if it was a Zen monastery but it's a family home and sometimes it feels a bit strange. I feel bad writing about my sisters home and kids. But I'm not here to judge, but to understand. My son has the opposite problem, never shutting up when he should. I feel bad that I didn't get to know her kids better when they were younger. They are stuck in their silent world, and I can't get in. My parents were always arguing. There was always noise, lots of it. when I was a teenager, we moved to a small farm in the country. I could still hear their yelling way down the far end of the paddock, as far as I could get away from the house without leaving the property. Now I love silence...(but I also love music). Most of all I love the stillness that I find in nature. It's a stillness that I feel, even when waves are crashing, or birds are singing. I've finally absolutely totally fallen in love, with that stillness.

ghdbueukfl

 I can't write anymore....the screen's too bright, the chair's too hard, The peaceful hum of nature's gone, replaced by the noise of dishes and cooking. My head feels foggy...the microwaves making that indescribable noise it makes.I'm thinking about my cyber romance that's doomed. Struggling to focus on any one topic. my brains rebelling in every direction. But the rule is that I don't have to write well...I just have to WRITE.

 I've spent the whole day pretending to write. Setting up blogs and browsing. Now it's just about writing and I miss my car and my notebook. I can hear Frank cutting carrots and onions, and I can smell the crispness & tenderness of the chicken the the roast chicken he's cooking from here. I can see the large screen TV images flickering in the corner of my eye even though the sounds been turned down. I realize I could spend a lifetime avoiding writing anything important, and I wonder if I need to?. I'm hoping writing will turn into some kind of magical therapy..... but now it's dinner time & it's time to stop.

Writing from now.

 There is no such thing as writers block, just start typing words right? But organising words into sense, into meaning and inspiration, freedom or pain, into laughter, into joy... into money??….is where the challenge begins. I’m sitting at a computer that’s meant to not be working. It’s been fine for the last 2 hours. I think it likes me..I’m at my twin sisters house in Tawa. &....now it happens, the chaos of my life crashes to the forefront of my brain as I try to write about WHY I’m here…so back to describing. If all else fails, come back to now and describe it.

…I can hear the sound of gunfire in the background, but I’m not disturbed, at least not anymore disturbed than anyone could be be about kids playing violent games for hours. If I thought about it I could be, but I try not to think about it. I’m trying to write. I can hear 12 yr old Nani behind me in the kitchen getting something to eat. Everyone snacks around here, I feel left out. My stomach is complaining and I realise I’ve been so immersed in this, I’ve forgotten about food. When did that last happen? I’m hungry but torn, I’m loving writing so much that I don’t care what I write about as long as I write. The internal manager, directs me towards food, the writer reluctantly releases control.

Sunny – the one eyed wonder..

I can't go anywhere without my dog...

 
 The journey through inner space can be tough at times, sometimes you need a friend that’s just gonna love you know matter what. I can’t leave her behind…she’s an essential character in the story of my life. She’s the real version of the one eyed teddy bear you couldn’t throw away. The snuggly blanket you had when you were a kid… She was there when I cried. When I tried…when I fell over, and when I got up again. I’ve got the critic looking over one shoulder, waiting to catch me out, but that’s ok 'cause I know Sunny’s got my back. How can I ever do sunny justice? It’s easier to write about writing about her than write about her though – I need more help…

WHEN IN DOUBT READ!

 Just 2 steps into my journey and I found this guy – Jon Winokur ‏@AdviceToWriters a friendly and oh so spot on travel guide. The first advice I’ve put in my backpack, along with the cookies and raisins is this: “Writers can generate industrial quantities of procrastination …” this is how I KNOW I’m on the right path. It’s taken all day for me to get this far, because two steps into writing, and I’m reading again. Procrastination, it seems is an essential part of the true writers craft. 

http://www.advicetowriters.com/

Aaaaargh!

 It’s such a tangled mixed up world in my head, facebook, twitter and this blog, all competing with each other for my words.Waiting for me to feed them with intelligence or humour or wit… And the words are all fighting with the inner critic about which one’s deserves to be heard…

 ..Then there are sentances and topics all vying for attention. Some of the words have collected themselves, they’re trying to group themselves and then organise the sentances into ideas for exploration. Subjects are petitioning to get an allowance of time and energy and whatever resources are at my disposal.

 I try to tell them all I’M NOT A WRITER YET!! I DON”T KNOW HOW TO DO THIS?!? But they are so desperate, so keen to get started. My brains swirling. I need coffee… I can’t have coffee, coffee just makes me crazy!, but I need whatever it represents – permission to start writing. Then I realise the journey’s already began. It’s off and started and I’m out the gate.

The journey begins...

 I’ve realized that a writer is a dreamer, a pretender, a faker, an inventer.. my natural instability could be my asset? Could craziness, impulsiveness, thirst for experience, & love of the unusual, awkward or interesting also help me on this journey?

  It’s hard starting out on the journey of the writing devotee. The first person you meet along the way is the critic. I’ll call him – “he”, because it feels better, less like me and more like someone else. I just met him, writing my very first sentance, and it seems like he’s decided to tag along, walking in my shadow, all the way. We have to become friends, because he’s not going away..