Monthly Archives: January 2014

Ladybugs & Families

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My aunt believes that ladybugs are signs from the grandmother I barely knew.
When I tattooed my foot with a ladybug, though, it wasn’t Nana I had in mind, 
but a reminder of faith stemmed from watching Under the Tuscan Sun many times.
Still connecting dots I realize: faith and Nana are connected.

My Papa died before I was even imagined
sometime in 1970-something on December 22nd.
He shared a name with my uncle B, and his son Baby B

Uncle B passed away a few weeks back, December 23rd from the big C
then something around twenty-four hours later
we lost our cousin, Baby B
Three men with the same name passed December 22, 23 & 24

The morning of the family services
Auntie D asked for a sign from her mother
then went about doing her hair
only to find a ladybug in the bathroom sink in the middle of winter

Earlier in December my dad found a ladybug in a coffee cup his garage 
he tried to let it go, thought he may have stepped on it in the process
Only to find the ladybug back in the cup the next day

My tattoo never healed right
the red ink fought my skin until bits of it oozed off
and still the representation of faith remains blemished on dry skin
Even connecting the dots, identifying synchronous moments 
in time & life & on movie screens
I think it might keep it this way

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Synchronicity Week 1: Changeling

I see these omens in the smallest things. Torn off toe nails scattered in skeleton patterns, blood spots on sun-blanched concrete, and broken clothes line strings, hanging down like strands of drowned maiden hair. That patch of yellow dust lawn where the dog likes to bury his old marrow-sucked bones. I see them in the way the paint peels off our weather boards, how they make shapes like cave paintings, like the ring-barked tree graffiti in the park behind the parking lot. These are marks cut with blunt knives, chicken scratchings carved into the hard clay soil. I couldn’t make them, not with my hands all messed up as they are, but I can read them well enough.
I shout across the front garden at my sister, who is picking at the paint on the west wall with her bitten off fingernails.
“Don’t mess with those messages from God, Matilda Jayde,”
Tilly looks up from her absent-minded work, and scowls at me as if I were the sun or something; she turns away to face the broken back fence and lets them fall from her hand, opening like those flowers do in fast motion. The paint chips scatter across the dead-dust lawn like flakes of snow, colouring the yellow earth with specks of robin’s-egg blue. I sigh.

Tilly doesn’t take much notice of my story-telling. She likes the world to run a straight shot into the future, she wakes in the dawn light with her arms and her mouth wide, ready and waiting for the day to fill her up, to make her fuller, and taller and take her on into the next one, where she might find all of her growing done, where she might find that she is finally a full-fledged, belly-bleeding woman.
“But it’s the looking back that make you wiser, Matilda Jayde,” I tell her, “you’ve got to let the stories weave their magic, and cast nets over the hollow places in your heart.”
“I’m not going to be a wise woman,” Tilly says, arms crossed over her bare, flat chest, “I’m never going to get old. My heart is whole.” She beats her sternum with her rosey clenched fist, a heavy thud of flesh on bone, like the running of flat feet on clay.

Today is a good day for omen-hunting. The wind is up, pushing the soft cotton clouds into the shapes I have found on the west wall, and shaking down the rose bushes. The fallen petals, plush peach and red kisses in the yellow dust, are gathering too, to make the Queens Cup’s and the Hanged Man, and now it is clear that today, the earth and sky are telling secrets. I sit on the porch with my notebook open on my knees, chewing on the end of my pencil until I break the wood and can taste the graphite-lead. I am trying, best as I can, to keep up with the conversation, to trace the symbols, to have them speak to me. But today, I’m not having much luck with deciphering their synchronicity. Today, the earth and sky have dropped their voices down to whispers, today they have drawn their circle, and I am on the outside. Today, just like my Tilly-girl, peeling paint and digging earth and running on towards womanhood, the world has turned it’s back.

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2014 Week 1 “Synchronicity”: I Once Met A Man

Welcome to a new year everyone! I’m excited to get back in the swing of things! This theme is perfect for some of the things going on in my life right now! I haven’t had a manic depression attack in over a month, timing perfectly with meeting a guy who has me giddy as a tickled child! I have been taking a new approach towards life, backing away from my typical “rush into it” social mannerisms, pushing myself deeper and deeper into my various artistic outlets, and trying to organize myself a bit better. It is a brand new year, and it’s just getting started, so bare with me as it is an uphill struggle for me, and I’m getting a slow start.

This period’s theme is synchronicity, “the simultaneous occurrence of causally unrelated events and the belief that the simultaneity has meaning beyond mere coincidence.”. How I will illustrate my connection to this theme in this poem is to tell the story of a random, and chance meeting of someone who, to the naked eye, I have very little in common with…someone who ordinarily would have given me no notice, nor I him. Now, I am not one to believe in love at first sight(I tend to believe it is more often lust at first sight), but in the moment we finally met, there was a connection that felt both old, and new. Upon our meeting I suddenly felt that our chance meeting, while not directly explainable, was meant to be. Since we have been talking, my manic depression has lulled its ugly head, and I have been inexplicably more confident in myself. In short, I feel as though I truly understand synchronicity all because I once met a man.

I Once Met A Man, By EnigmA Jade
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I once met a man. I knew him instantly upon gazing into his eyes.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly from the sound of his voice.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly by the way he carried himself.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly by the beat of his heart.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly by the depth of his soul.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly, but I didn’t know why.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly, and now I know why.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly, as if I had known him forever.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly, and now I am in love.
I knew that we were different.
I knew that our differences were superficial.

I once met a man. I knew him instantly.
I knew that I loved him.

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[sic] week one: synchronicity (with playlist!)

“Synchronicity weaves like a web when you were meant to be a meal”–Incubus, Smile Lines

I have always loved that part from the song Smile Lines. The surprise of the unexpected, the elation of pieces coming together and the universe aligning with your dreams and desires.

On the other hand, synchronicity can reinforce your deepest fear, as it did when Ashley drew my tarot card for the year: 8 of Swords. Its meaning? Trapped and powerless. I have been grappling with these feelings as the demands of the world have left me exhausted, filling me with a sense of hopelessness. I ache to write more and tell my stories. My characters are suffering. My dreams are suffering. I am suffering. This is not to say there isn’t any good in my life. Lover Man is a constant source of love and support, and my family and friends are wonderful. I still feel isolated and panicked, and no one, no matter how wonderful they are, can reach inside me and change how I’m feeling. No one can magically alter the circumstances that are making me feel trapped and powerless. They can only try to help me through this hopefully brief period of pain.

I had begun work on my vision board for the year 2014 before I was dealt the card that confirmed my sad state, but after the card, it didn’t just seem like a fun thing to do. It was necessary to  put my positive intentions  out there. Ashley, being a good friend who probably didn’t want me to have a nervous breakdown–welcome, panic attacks!–did a more complete reading for me. This is how the cards rolled out:

The course of action.

The course of action.

Wheel of Fortune: destiny, fate, change of course.

The Fool: Innocence, Naivete

Mother of Swords: Experienced, All-Seeing.

The answer is clear: I can get out. I will stumble about. I won’t know all the answers. I may fall and fail, and I will endure growing pains, but I will be okay. Somehow, I will be okay.

The suite of cards is now my desktop background. Lover Man got me some adhesive strips to hang up my vision board since the blue painter’s tape I used at first was not having it.

Naturally, music has been getting me through some of my hardest days. New songs from old favorites like Nine Inch Nails and Pearl Jam are speaking to me, lifting me up, alternately whispering and screaming at me to keep going, move forward, break free, be authentic, create! Of course, I have also been seeking out songs that provide comfort and allow me to reflect on my issues. Death Cab for Cutie playing at the local cafe as I waited for my cup of coffee enticed me to sit and enjoy five minutes of writing time while warming myself up by their gorgeous fireplace. Songs have kept me warm and sane while trooping through biting cold and snow in the mornings to get to work. (Yes, that would be me chair dancing on the bus. Accept it and move on.)

I was inspired to reach my goals in art and life before 2013’s end, but I am clinging to motivation now more than ever. Every little spark in my cupped hands.

For our first Kindred playlist of the new year, I decided to create a vision board and merge my art and music inspiration together. Enjoy the playlist, and let’s all take control of our lives in 2014.

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Synchronicity: Listen here! Synchronicity

[sic]

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2014, Week 1: Synchronicity

Most nights I dream I
am digging a hole
as wide and deep
as a coffin. The walls
of the tomb smell like food;
naan bread, crab cakes,
worcestershire sauce.
I lie down and take
a deep breath.

But the other night
an invisible shaman
spoke in my ear.
I dreamed he taught me
how to heal the hairline
fractures splitting
people’s hearts, but
all I wanted to know
was how to heal my own.

I heard his tongue
cluck, cluck, like
a ruffled rooster
shaking out silken,
loose plumes.
He cackled
and told me that
more than half
of any wound is
healed by healing.

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Constellations: 2014 Week 1 Synchronicity

I’m in the process of learning how to use words in a cathartic way. Until now I most wrote for escape. I’m rusty at poetry and still broken hearted, but here’s a story.

Constellations

I believed in the
synchronicities
Of you
And me

I believed
The little green house
I drove by daily
The fact that
You spent three years
Just streets away

You always asked me
About the constellations

I wanted to
Draw lines between
Synchronicities
The same college
Same major
You had my friend as a professor

Make our own constellation
We didn’t need the gods in the sky

The day before I stopped believing
In our lives aligning
I decided to plan a trip to Portland
The same city she lived in

You are responsible
And I want to hold it against her
Remember the time she
Wanted me to know:
I had nothing to worry about
And I wasn’t even worried

When I asked
You said you believe things happen
For a reason
Like maybe this had to happen
For you to blossom
For me to break free
Fill myself with self love
Mourn the destruction of stars

& I forgave you
Because online flirting
Amateur and dumb
Doesn’t outweigh
The pull of my heart

But you couldn’t
Release blame on yourself

And so we wander
Lonely stars in a
Finite universe
Exchanging constellation
For coexistence
Slowly unwinding
We unalign

Xoxo
Melanie Kristy

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Kindred 2014

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Oh, boy, excuse me while I try to figure out this WordPress app on my ipad. So, it’s 2014 and we’ve decided to give it another go. This year, the Kindreds and I will be working in two week turns instead of weekly. I’m up first, as always. What’s the theme?

Synchronicity

At the beginning of December, Jess found us a list of journaling prompts to help us recap our 2013 and plan for 2014. The first one was the old “pick a word that you want to represent the new year”. I chose Synchronicity for 2014. It is “the simultaneous occurence of causally unrelated events and the belief that the simultaneity has meaning beyond mere coincidence.” That’s a bit wordy, right? Just think about the last bit: the idea that things have meaning beyond mere coincidence. I just like to think of it as the universe’s way of letting us know we’re on the right track. We toss something out there, and fate flashes it back at us.

So, it’s January first. Find a moment to yourself, a cozy place to sit, and try to decide what you want to put out into the world this year. Make a playlist, a vision board, a list. Start a new journal, a new project, or make a new friend. It’s January first. What’s on your universal to-do list?

And what does the universe have in store for you?

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