[Yawn] I’m staying up way too late tonight, creating a new website called ‘Computer Help For Newbies.’ (Stay tuned, I’m bound to bore you with the details soon enough.)

I was inspired by having gotten up early this morning to meet with a computer help client and finding out that, get this, nobody else is doing this. And also by Cathy’s comment. I will post something on the forum as soon as my site is up and running–and I’m already pretty close. Turbo charged.

As for exactly what ‘this’ is, you’ll find out soon. But it seems to be an open market for me. So that’s exciting, rather.

The crux of all this at the moment is, it’s now 4 am and I got up at 8:30 this morning. What am I, nuts?

I’ll leave you enjoy the last couple of days’ self-portraits… this last one should be clicked on and viewed large (click on the ‘all sizes’ button above the photo in the flickr page). I’m pleased with the swirly tiny red lines. They should be seen.

Must… Sleep…
Now…

g’night all.

The beginning of new realities has tended to be accompanied by the endings of old ones; nature in its abhorrence of vacuums ensuring that our lives are full at any given time, either with what we want or what we don’t want, usually some combination of the two.

To move to a new home, one must leave one’s current abode. The new involves release of the old. I am in a lot of new realities over this last year or so; letting go of the Hornby Island community and my involvement in its many subgroupings has been the hardest thing of all. This first photo reflects a feeling of release, letting go of the old so that the new can be embraced.

The beauty of release is that sometimes what has been relinquished and moved on from may return, with even more potency than before. This has happened in my relationship world. My sweetie and I have parted ways quite thoroughly, though we tried to maintain a heart connection, while he explored a new relationship and I explored a new community and a life on my own. Then through unforeseen circumstances his new relationship ended and we have been dancing a friendship and healing dance since then.

The dance has slowly evolved us back around face to face. Love feels good these days, better than it ever did in many ways and the future is uncertain, as it must be, no surprise there. This is a photo of one of our sweet moments recently. Such moments are rare, since we live on different islands, yet something feels right about that.

In this next shot I am in my car on my way to a client’s home, in pursuit of my new business venture: “Computer Help For Newbies.” My catchphrase is, “Can’t see through Windows? Mystified by Macintosh? I can help!” My motto is, if at first you don’t succeed, try something different.

You’d be surprised how many folks there are out there who are looking at their silicon boxes with befuddlement, wishing somebody would come to their door and ‘splain the whole thing to them. That’s what I do. I help them hook up their internet connections, set up gmail accounts, facebook pages, organize their music, photos and video, learn Photoshop, or MS Office, or pretty much whatever it is they want to know. My extensive experience wasting time on my computer is at last put to good use!

I’m all about diversification. In this one, I’m in my robe right after an evening spent modeling for a group of artists. A sample of one of the artist’s work is behind me on the floor, blurred out somewhat by the post-processing effects I used on this photo.

I love my life these days. I’m also terrified a lot of the time. Fear is the energy that vibrates in my body whenever I do something completely new. I’m afraid of the new. Of course I am; aren’t you? Isn’t everybody? I consider that kind of fear a good thing. It’s energy in motion, raw power, and owning it, feeling it, vibrating it through my body as energy, is simply harnessing the energy appropriately. It’s not fear that we need to fear, ironically; it’s our fear of fear, which shuts down that vibration and prevents our harnessing the power we need to move into the new.

I’m not stopping all my other things though. I’m going to try expanding my world so I have room for more in it rather than letting go of the old. We’ll see how the ‘having new cake while still getting to have the old cake’ experiment goes. I still play my songs, and write when I’m inspired. I still do astrology readings when I am called on to do so, and I’m still seeking a venue in which I can set up to do card readings. And there are new things I feel brewing to start in on too.

Diversification. For my Gemini Midheaven Mars, that’s the only career solution that makes sense.

So, I didn’t keep up with my blog posts while I was gone, but I have an excuse. I was on dial-up. I got so frustrated with the fricken fracken internet that I hardly even stayed caught up with my scrabble games. It’s all about priorities, right?

Anyway, I’m back, and I’ve just posted the last few days’ worth of self-portraits to my flickr page, so I’ll share them with you in order.

This shot from the 19th is photoshopped, and it’s best to view it in the large size to grasp the full effect. To do that, click on the image then click the ‘all sizes’ button above it. That will open it in a bigger size so you can see its true coolness. I worked hard on this shot and am happy with how it turned out!

It’s me snuggling up with my new favourite Free Store score, a leopard-spotted polar fleece boa scarf. It’s the best scarf I’ve ever owned. I want to sleep with this thing. All praises to the Hornby Island Free Store.

Other new favourite Free Store finds from this trip: a long slinky green velour dress with slits up both legs (rowr!); a pair of hiking boots a size too big that worked awesomely well with three pairs of socks and enabled some good walks while on the island; several warm sweaters, and various odds and ends.

I got arty once I got home. Originally, this one from the 20th was my face silhouetted against P’s skylight. Boring! So now that I am home and back on broadband, I’ve been having some fun. I edited this shot using picnik. Easier than Photoshop.

I quite like this one, actually; it’s the second photo I’ve edited in that puzzle-piece style. I think it suits me.

Almost forgot this one from the 21st. It’s me beside the woodstove trying to get warm. It was so cold! And P’s woodstove makes pretty flames, but it doesn’t put out much heat; it mostly goes up the chimney. I don’t do well in the cold, as I say later on in this post.

For the next shot, from the 22nd, I decided to go for drama. I was getting tired of my normal face. So this is the horror movie version of me!

Again, it’s best to view this one in large format. I was having a lot of fun with my camera and a sweet time with my sweetie and connecting with some old friends while on the island; but I didn’t spend as much time outside hiking and such as I had originally thought I would. I ended up doing a lot of indoor nesting, finding delicious ways to keep warm. I recommend it. I don’t like the cold.

Let me put it another way: I’ve had my quota of cold for one lifetime. When I was a kid, I was never warm enough. Now, I’m about ready to move to someplace tropical. If I can see my breath, it’s too cold. Snuggle time.

And now here I am, back *sigh* home, in my usual position in front of the computer.

I feel enriched by the last week, rejuvenated, refreshed and nourished. At the same time, I feel depleted, depressed, deranged and ready for some profound and fundamental change in my world. My life is beginning to suck butt. Yet, by now I’ve learned that this is just how January feels to me.

Still, I’m broke, and I have rent to pay. If you know anybody who wants or could benefit from an astrology reading (and just about anybody could), or any of the other services I offer, please do pass my info along to them! Thank you! Mwahh!

We had a lovely walk down past Heron Rocks today. This is me, there, in my self-portrait for the day mode. Behind me are some lovely little sandstone caves dripping water. The beauty of this particular walk quite stuns me everytime. It’s one of the main things I love about this island (one of many).

I couldn’t resist playing with the shot a bit. So if I look a little plastic, you can blame Photoshop.

The below shot is an eagle who was hanging out in a nearby tree. I had to make some curves adjustments to make it visible; the original image was very faded and misty, since it was extremely foggy today. But thanks to Photoshop, it shows right up. I didn’t realize when I took the shot that the eagle was looking right at me. Such a wild look in its eye!

Right after that, the battery in my camera died, or I would have had the photo of my lifetime. A sea lion surfaced near the shore, reared up in the water and whuffled at us. He would dip under the water, come up, whuffle again and rear up for a closer look. He seemed quite fascinated! We sang him a song and he listened (or appeared to listen; certainly, he was very interested in something about us. Perhaps we were exuding good vibrations!) before he finally swam away. All I could think was, [insert extreme expletive] how could I forget my spare batteries!!

Taking pictures really changes how I look at the world. Faced with the beautiful and unusual, if I have a camera in my hand, I’m happy. If I don’t, I get anxious, jittery and weird. Well, weirder. I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.

Note: click on a photo to be taken to a larger version of the image. For a really large version, you can click the ‘all sizes’ button above the photo in the new window.

I haven’t quite landed yet, but here I am on Hornby, my former island home. I confess it feels a little disorienting so far. I shopped at the Co-op upon arrival and had the inescapable conversation in the check-out line; you see, it’s impossible to escape the Co-op without being caught in conversation. It’s practically a natural law.

In fact, one fateful February many years ago, some wag donated a box full of Groucho Marx nose-and-eyebrow glasses which were made available at the door for cabin-fever sufferers who were feeling antisocial to don as a signal that they preferred to shop in anonymous silence. Predictably, this plan backfired; the glasses were sure-fire attention magnets.

So I had a nice conversation and it was pleasant to catch up with an old acquaintance, but it was also odd. I wasn’t sure what to say or who was saying it. It felt almost as though several jigsaw puzzles had gotten mixed up inside me.

Place is crucial to me. I tend to identify myself by my surroundings, so when my surroundings change, my identity shifts. So now that I’m back on the island, I am forced to re-member who I was, which, while not profoundly different from who I am elsewhere, is different enough to be jarring.

I’ll adjust, and I’ll be glad, soon enough. Tomorrow, I go to the Free Store, which is another unavoidably social venue. More social intercourse. It’s January. I’m almost too naked for this. But I’ll adjust. It’ll be fun. Sure it will.

In the meantime, my photo for today (taken at the Denman ferry terminal while waiting for my ride to arrive) is unedited due to the fact that I am on dial-up for the week. I will at some point be tweaking and editing the thing, but for now, here is the naked straight-from-the-camera self-portrait for the day.

It involves walking to the neighbourhood coffee bar and indulging in thick strong bitter espresso with dark chocolate on the side. Yes, those are chocolate stains around my mouth and yes, that’s a satisfied smirk on my face.

Afterward I walked to the beach, watched the ducks and listened to the foghorn. Fog puts everything into perspective somehow. Then when I came home I had some energy to pack for my trip to Hornby tomorrow. That’s the second part of the cure.

Thanks to the magic of the internet, you all won’t even notice I’m gone.

Every year it is the same
I wait at the starting gate
guarded, girded for the
graceless, uphill grind;
endless until I am surprised
by break-up with its
pell-mell downhill spill
and then the melt,
when springtime
slides into my life
like sweet water down
a thirsty throat

Between now (while it’s hard)
and then (when it becomes easy)
I have no guide but this fragile flame

It matches my flickring heart
By summer, will become the sun
Yet now is nearly drowned out
By the dark

I’m tired today. Feel lacklustre, dragged out, pale. I probably need iron. Part of it is emotional (though it’s a classic case of ‘chicken and egg’: do I feel depressed because I’m feeling washed out and tired, or vice versa?); my life is in limbo and I don’t know what direction to move in.

I have mad skills; I’m very good at what I do. But marketing isn’t one of the things I do well. If everybody who had a reading from me who loved it told a friend who then also got a reading, I’d have a thriving practice. But it doesn’t seem to work that way. And I’m too tired and crabby right now to try to figure it out. I need to advertise or move or both.

Bleah. It’s january. It can only get better from here.

Well, I’m home from Saltspring. I had a beautiful time there helping one of my oldest and dearest friends, Sheya Jordan, celebrate her 40th birthday.

I met Sheya on Saltspring 23 years ago when she was 17 and I was not. She gave me my first-ever massage a year or so after I moved to Saltspring from Fraser Lake. I was not yet accustomed to coastal ways and felt a wee bit skeptical and skittish about the idea that anyone might stroke, caress and massage my naked body without having sex in mind, but I was adventurous and I trusted her. She was a sweet, wide-eyed rainbow faerie who has grown into a wise, almost supernaturally loving, profoundly unique and gifted woman I am proud to call friend.

Sheya is the visionary and primary artist behind Wild Earth Arts, the Saltspring based company that sells (among other lovely and sacred things) the Goddess Prayer Flags that you have seen in various places on the Islands and elsewhere.

This is Sheya: I was her official photographer. I took over two hundred shots of her birthday gathering, ceremony and celebration, some of which, tweaked, optimized and edited, can be seen on my flickr page.

Saltspring has changed, of course. I find myself drawn back there, as though to an old lover I broke up with but never got over. I had a poignant time there exploring Ganges where I used to spend so much time. Some things are the same; Centennial Park seems much as I remember it, though the trees have grown. Certain landmarks remain, but they stand out amid the new garish buildings that have sprung up around them. Mouat’s, the Embe Bakery; ah, memories.

Like my friend, the island has lost some of its youthful innocence and magical glow, but it is beautiful still and likely contains depths that I would like to explore.

I have a feeling that I might come to love it even more than I did back then, and if a space opens up there for me, I will likely choose to move there. However, it is Saltspring, a place where it has always been notoriously difficult to find affordable housing. That’s why I left it in the first place.

I remember the passionate awe I once felt when, freshly off the ferry for the first time from up North, I set foot in a fairyland where the grass was green all year long. I’ll never forget that moment, nor my first whiff of the salt tang of the sea. Actually the smell is not salt at all; rather, it’s a brew of rotting seaweed and marine life, but ‘salt tang’ sounds much more romantic than ‘rotting brew of decomposing sea stuff.’

But I digress.

Love for the place aside, I like the idea of living there because

a) It’s easily accessible to Vancouver, Victoria, the southern Gulf Islands and the Cowichan Valley. Kind of amazing really. It’s a hub. I love the community here and I like the idea of being able to stay connected.

b) The island population is predisposed to accepting my particular brand of strange. It is a Gulf Island, after all. And there are lots of them, something like 10,000 people. I could conceivably make my living there, doing what I do.

c) After 20 odd years of living on Gulf Islands, I find I’m not quite comfortable living somewhere that’s not closely bounded by water. I miss the uniquely integrated sense of community that happens when the ferries shut down at night, leaving you stuck with each other. Vancouver Island is practically big enough to be a province; it doesn’t really count.

I’ll keep you posted.

The trouble with my newfound zeal for writing each day is that I’m not reliably inspired on a daily basis. So thank goodness for my self-portrait-a-day project over on flickr. The photo just happens; I never plan how it’s going to be. I pick up the camera and wait for something to happen. Today, I happened to point the thing at my nose ring, which reminded me of a conversation I had with somebody recently. Actually, I’ve had the same conversation twice now, with guys of a certain age (twenty-something), both times starting with, in incredulous tones of disapproval, “So what were you thinking when you did that?”

What is that about? You’d think it would be old ladies pointing disapproval my way, but contrarily, the old ladies are either beamingly oblivious or outright admiring. It’s the young dudes who think it’s weird.

Not weird per se, mind you. Lots of their friends have way more outrageous hardware on their faces. They think it’s weird because it’s me, an old lady like Mom, who has this purple monstrosity dangling off me. There seems to be a problem with Mom stepping out of the box. Well, guys, sorry, but you’re going to have to live with it. The box that can hold me hasn’t been folded, and the mold I was made from broke a long time ago.

Oh, yes. How did I answer the question? I said, “I was thinking that I’m fifty years old and I’m never going to live a normal life, and that’s the way I want it.”

So there. That’s as philosophical as I can wax tonight, but I fulfilled my commitment.