I have not written here in 6 months. That is a long time for someone with everything to lose. The things that can happen in a month would astound you. You never think about time and how it truly changes things until you are thinking retrospectively and can put in the proper perspective to realize the vast evolutions your life goes through.
The array of feelings, situations, the choices you decide to remain consistent with. The breakdowns. The feeling of fear, of regression, of being incapable.
The flowers I have grown. The smiles and tears. The different stages of my home.
In the last 6 months, I went to North Carolina and back twice. I drove through the foggy mountains alone and I slept at a rest stop. I walked in the woods along the highway. I turned 27 years old. I moved out of my first apartment. I lost my best friend and beautiful cat, Duchess. I’ve had acquaintances die suddenly, and lost my ability to drink and socialize. I’ve gone hunting for antiques my my home area of Florida and collected new dolls and interesting relics. I’ve concentrated on death. I’ve lost the ability to feel proud of my work. I stopped painting. I invested my time in building a garden and have grown into a love of earthships, sustainable living, and terraforming.
I got a call from a hospital in Maryland and found out my sister attempted to take a number on her life and I dropped everything and went to get her. I drove for 4 days there and back, returning to work on a Friday.
I brought her and her boyfriend, Chris into my home. We are building the trailerhome together and making it beautiful and worthy of the title “home”. Best of all, I think we are making it work. It’s such a relief having one less thing to exhaust my mind with, the safety of my baby sister is no longer one of them. I sleep sounder in that knowledge.
All in all, everything feels stable now. Everything is as ok as it’s ever been, and looks to only have potential for getting better every day.
I have so much new art and thoughts to share with you all, I sure wish I weren’t so shy.
Until Next Time,
“The nasty parts of things are important to keep in mind in order to better appreciate the beautiful.”
At least that is what I have been telling myself every time I pull up into this mass of trash pouring out of the front porch, like some sort of a monster just waiting to suck up the entire yard and planet. It’s a sort of a funny representation of the state of the earth and it’s mine now. A lot of mess, just junk. In heaps. I’ve been overwhelmed by things, this non stop accumulation of physical objects I just cannot keep up with.
This week, the trash will be gone. The roof will be fixed. This week welcomes a new level of decency to this raggedy piece of shit, my empire of dirt. This trailer that I cannot seem to figure out why I care so much about. I bought flowers, already giving more consideration to the environment of which this property lies that the property itself.
All the while working away every day. Getting older and more tired. My mind so busy, never able to sleep. Crying often, reading constantly, I feel unhealthy. Unbalanced. I don’t know how I became so stressed within the span of 8 months. So many things fell into my lap at the same time, life disregarding my comfort. Every decision feels like a tragic mistake lately, but at the very least its a decision and I was never good with those. I’m posting this is my first “before” in regards to the moon lake earth ship. I want to create a beautiful space with the help of my sister and her boyfriend and brother, TJ. I want to share this experience with you. It will probably take me a year, but this is hopefully going to be the most rewarding thing I ever do in my life. a butterfly garden, a fruit and vegetable garden, a beautiful home with bamboo floors and enough food to feed for a month. A chicken coop and a reading nook. A tree house and a koi pond and a spiral herb garden and butterfly visitors and bee visitors and art everywhere!
But in order to best appreciate that future dream, in 12 months, no matter what happens I need to relish in the fact that it looks like absolute shit right now. It’s elegant in a way, seeing the house I spent most of my early teenage years in complete shambles. A mountain of trash. This is poverty. Even the biggest pile of trash can be rebuilt, and I believe that.