There are a couple of topics that are on my mind that I haven't touched on yet.
The first one is creativity.
There's no way to say this with class, so I'm just going to throw it out there. It's really, really hard to be creative when you're homeless.
(How's that for a sentence I never thought I'd say out loud?)
Before I sold my house in my hometown, I had ways I could be creative if I felt like it. I knew where all of my belongings were, so if I wanted to paint, I could paint. Not only could I paint, I could paint several things.
Canvas! Paint pouring! Watercolor! Pastels!
So many options!
Perhaps someone made me mad and I wanted to reach for an adult coloring book full of naughty words?
I did that often.
Or maybe if I was down, I could reach for my favorite book of all time, which always cheers me up. (The Five People You Meet in Heaven.)
I've learned through therapy that I have to have an outlet when things get bad. I can't just sit around and do nothing. When things get bad, I need to have my fingers doing some sort of art to get my mind off of things.
The thing is, though, when you don't have a permanent roof over your head, all of these creative outlets are packed away in boxes hundreds of miles away.
It sucks.
I do have some of my possessions with me right now, but I haven't found my art supplies yet. I don't know where my colored pencils or markers or paints are.
I did find my favorite book the other day, though, and I cried like a baby when I unpacked it. And then I hugged it (and its prequel) and then I cried some more.
Painting, photography, design and all of the other creative things that I like to do are all secondary loves in my life. I'm good at some of those things, all right at some of those things, and mediocre at some of them.
But those all secondary loves of mine. My first love in life will always be writing.
I never thought my writing was worthy of being in pretty journals, so I never bought them. I always just bought notebooks that kids use in school to write in.
But recently I've learned that maybe I am worthy after all.
A few weeks ago, I bought a set of three journals. The one I'm currently writing in in black, just the right size, and has a moon and flowers on it.
My writing is worthy of being in it.
Some of the writing I can share on here, some of it can only be shared with my closest friends. (I'm so, so sorry, guys. Haha.)
It's been years since I've written with pencil and paper.
I've learned to find that creative escape and just roll with it.
--
Every time Raven goes outside here, I hold the door open for her.
--
Flies in
I saw my brother’s kids
the other day
A red head and a curly blonde-haired kid
‘I love you 100’ they’d say
It’s summertime in Kansas
100 degrees in the dry summer sun
I gave those kids a flyswatter
And then I let them run
They screamed and ran around
started smacking things
Watching them reminds me
of the songs we used to sing
On the swings
On the playground
As I left to go home
I hugged them and told them I’d see them around
Their baby sister
Blue-eyed and dirty blonde hair
I just want to sit her down
And explain all the drama she’ll fair
Sometimes you meet someone
who’s only good at letting flies in
And then when that door finally shuts
Your whole world will spin
Three little girls,
Seven, seven and five years old
In 10 years, they’ll meet a boy
Then they’ll be whirled and twirled
Three little beautiful girls
I don’t know how to tell them this
In 10, 15, or 20 years
Their whole world will be amiss
Stay little as long as you can, girls
Don’t play with make up yet
Instead
go outside and sweat
Play your little heart out
Jump on the trampoline
Sing as loud as you can
Dance in the basement with Papa and a tambourine
Sing about rock and roll
About coconuts and chicken wings and all those times when
Do this before you fall for someone who’s only good at
Letting the flies in
Take a wooden spoon
Sit on my kitchen floor
Bang on the tubberware containers
While your Grandma laughs in the door
Please color me pictures
To hang on my fridge
If you keep painting and drawing me more
I’ll move them on the door just a smidge
I look at these beautiful kids
And wonder when
I’ll find someone who is good at something
Other than letting flies in
Girls, go fishing with Papa
Whenever he wants to
Lie about how big the fish is
It’s okay if some things are untrue
Please name the fish
Flower, Sparkles or Cutie Pie
And give that fish a kiss
before you meet a guy
I can never explain
how much I love you
Please run to me, let me spin you around
Before all the drama and boys ensue
Please don’t grow up too fast
And when I ask for a kiss
Go to the cabinet, pull out a chocolate one
Place it in my hand, God I’ll miss this
Kids, the only thing your aunt excels at
is finding men
Who are only good
At letting the flies in
Please hug me as hard as you can
I’ll take you swimming and sledding
And then I’ll take you home, tell you I love you so much
And tuck you in under your Spiderman bedding
I’ll go back to my house
Reach down deep within
And silently wonder when I’ll meet someone
Who’s good at something other than letting flies in
Girls, there will be a day
When your daddy will walk you down the aisle
And it might take a while
But I’ll be right beside him, with a smile
And I can’t wait for the day in your life
When I find out
who flies in
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