Sesame Street: The Alphabet With Elmo and India Arie

f u n

No book, no blog entry, no tweet, no card, or speech is created at p i c t u r e l e s s books that isn’t fun and our fullest pleasure. When we have fun, we create fun. We love to take on fiery subjects and make them fun. Life’s biggest, toughest subjects deserve a little feisty fun. So, when things get funky, and make us feel like we’re falling over a big cliff, we first find the fun, then play from there.

h a p p y?

b e b r i l l i a n t

casual r e l i e f

We took a road-trip at the beginning of this month to Marfa, one of our favorite small Texas towns. I settled in for my riding read, The Casual Vacancy, then hot off press by J.K. I read the engaging first chapter plus some as we climbed the altitude into Balmorhea, another tiny Texas town. 

An excruciating pain flooded my forehead. The reading stopped. Not because the book's editors left a random 'towards' on page nine and not on page 14 (which could have prompted the head pain), but because if one believed in the power of words like I really do- a headache was not such a casual occurrence. Hope that does not qualify as a spoiler.

We stopped the car road side for a resting spell quasi altitude adjustment spell. The kids shot panoramic photos via the hot off press iPhone 5. I popped ibuprofen.

We continued to Marfa. In Marfa we made our usual stops (lunch, the rock shop, an ice cream parlor, a couple of galleries), or they did. I stayed near the car moaning and such. Intermittently between moans I meditated, did a few handstands and back bends in the town square trying to break the tension. Apparently, inverted positions drain sinus pressure. All of these actions made me able to tolerate my favorite Marfan spot, the Marfa Book Company. I would have endured the agony anyway. I love independent book nooks.

While in the store I learned that Me'shell Ndegeocello performed the night before our arrival. This information incited the nausea and the headache heightened. Mostly because I was determined to hum "Let me run my fingers through your dreadlocks" as loudly as I could stand. 

On comfy bookstore couches we chatted about human trafficking with two attorneys from El Paso. I purchased a poet's collection.

"Can we go home now?" I whispered.

Back into the car we go. Extended day trip cut short.

If I could just make it to Balmorhea. I convinced myself the pressure would subside. Twisty turny descending pain.

"I thought you wanted to stop in Alpine," Farmer Guy said.

"I want to go home."

"Are you sure?"

Are you like kidding me. Uh, my brain is about to implode inside of my skull. And I just read that first chapter. I'm quite sure that I want to go home, and not become a next casual vacancy.

Okay, what's my word... peace? health?

relief. How do you spell relief?

Just when I thought he would ask about Alpine again.

"Do you wanna stop at the church?"

Without hesitation, "Yes."

In the middle of nowhere stands a magical mission. He had never seen it. The kids and I have played at Mission Mary before. Maybe I could pray for relief in Calera, Texas.

When we neared a cluster of cars lined the highway near the church.

Odd to me- because I believed the magical mystical place to be my own.

"Should we stop?" He asked.

"It's open to the public." Code for it's my mission. Of course, we should stop.

The kids dozed in the back seat.

Blocking the entry, an African man rocked a too antsy baby girl. There was plenty of silence on the outside to hear the happenings on the inside.

My head went all Nicki Minaj in reverse. You know- RAWR, GERRRR, GRUMBLE, GROWL  to fairies, unicorns, rainbows and Bahbies.

Is this real?

Maybe, I've taken too many ibuprofen. A couple when the pain started... two outside of the bookstore... I think they were 200 mgs.

Maybe this is the white light.

Is this heaven? 

Is this the relief of my focus.

"Bill, constant."

"Donna, faith."

"Micah, joyful."

I peered around the baby holding gent to see the couple walking the aisle.  A positive word wedding! Shut-up!

The bride and groom gave positive words and a flower to each of their guests.

"Farmer Guy, am I dreaming? Did we just crash a positive word fete?"

I listened with salty misty relief coating my eyes.

It's happening. It's really happening! A good word revolution!

Give Words.

love

[Words] Campaign Anti-Bullying Ad

BREAKING: Positive words increase productivity

BREAKING: Positive words increase productivity

j o y

la- la- la- la- la

We love the thought of you lifting up in luscious laughing lightning lessons. How do we know this happens? We let life lead our longing to learn more about the lure of lucratively leafing through letters. Less is so much more. Little letters lead to large lexicons of love. And that’s how we roll.

s c r e w e d - u p

My fabulous girlfriends do more in a day than we presume others, and take glorious pride in doing so.

“I’m a doer.” S told me last week.

That, we are.

We run.

We run companies, research facilities, restaurants, classrooms, lecture halls, courtrooms, estates, programs, festivals.

We run households. We are class moms, team moms, band moms, fur moms, dance moms, home health providers.

We hit it from dawn until sometimes pre-dawn checking homework, dispensing meds and writing. Writing dissertations, blogs, book proposals, papers, reviews, novels and lists.

It’s as if the one who does the most, wins! Sometimes we do!

Last night when chatting with D, she said, “I’m going to slow my world.”

Instantly, I thought of a life in screw. I pondered the rest of the conversation of how to obtain an ever more screwed- up version of my super busy life.

Some may understand this reference. Mmmm? How do I explain? Okay, when the dj slows the tempo of the music to a walking through water pace, and the listener’s perception moves to slow-mo like the walls are melting – that’s screwed up.  

Where IS Mike Jones?

I’m the dj. I’m the listener. The music is my life. The word is s c r e w.

I need a few accompanying tempo altering words. intention & breath.

This morning I’ve been alternating my focus of these three words.

intention

Deliberately acting and solo-tasking

breath

Deep and delicious

screw

Measured steps with precise sensory perception

When I left my house this morning, Bob began to blare from the radio television station- “Rebel Music”!

I dropped my bags and broke out into a slow wine. 

I’m s c r e w e d – u p and i n t e n t i o n a l l y loving every b r e a t h.

love

 

t h r e e times p i n k

It's all pink again!

Last October, I don't remember.  

This year, each ribbon follows me and leaves pink traces behind my eyelids.  This year- the year of biopsies, the year of lumpectomy, the year my mother had a mastectomy.  
 
Adrea is in the habit of sending by post (that in itself is fabulous).  Sometimes the treats from my partner breathe through their packaging, forcing my children to rattle the contents.  That time they were pictureless word cards.  Each card presented one of the words we claim on post sized cards, business sized cards, or itty bitty cards.  They were gorgeous.  I traveled with them half across the state to share with my mother during the post chemo / pre-surgery / pre-radiation hospital moments. 
 
Mom twisted them around and palmed them.  I saw fear vanishing from her.  When the anesthesiologist entered, he began to share the process.  First, we will do this, then that, the important thing is to clear your mind.  
 
"We have words for that, Mom, from the 'nothing' series."
 
The doctor was intrigued.  I shared p i c t u r e l e s s with him- Clear Clouds, Memory Music, Invisible Icicles.  He deemed them appropriate and darling.  He modified my mother's instructions to a p i c t u r e l e s s place.  
 
In a childlike voice my mother asked for surgical tape.  When he returned she began praying and taping positive word cards on her body.  Then, my fear vanished.  This is l i f e and life is b e a u t i f u l.  
 
Each hospital employee, visitor, and friend that witnessed that moment became instantly radiant.  The words connected us, protected us, and let us breathe through those moments one moment at a time.

It's all pink again!

c a n v a s {free}

The c a n v a s series offers a creative way to teach art, to do art and to play and make the words come alive. First in the imagination, next, we hope on the page, or screen, in the sand, or on the icing of a cake! These words can then expand one’s knowledge, and thus, expand the pleasure of the art in a museum, the images on TV or in the movies, or of course, in reading a book. Knowing the words of art, make art come a l i v e ! c is for canvas f r e e until monday! love