Tuesday, May 23, 2006

buyin' time, a second at a time.

beachy bright mixed media by ann marie simard
"My heart my heart, I've got to keep my heart, it's not too late it's not too late I've got to keep my heart"

Yes and I really have to, because if you ask my head it will just speak gibberish and contradict itself.

Neighbor boy is awol but I think I know why and it is not me. I almost fear that I forget. As Antonia once said, "Feelings cannot be remembered.". True for a while. It is lucky that they usually come back. Anyway. It is too calm here now. And the muse has gone awol too, maybe for the same reason.

No news. You can feel and touch the silence. I miss that and those emails. It's like not being able to write any more. So I am just buyin' time, a second at a time. Maybe I will need it later.

Addendum - Maybe I do - right after writing this - mail. Nice. Good.


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Friday, May 19, 2006

No Martinis Friday?

faded id abstract by ann marie simard
Hi friendies here....

My blogoscope at poetic justice was mean!!! And it is Martini Friday, yet I do not feeling {yet???} like having one. It is early anyway. I feel like a tired party girl who left her best dress on, yet there is still work to do. New plans starting designing these templates more seriously, because art is just not paying off, or so little it is ludicrous.

My interesting life? Hmm, where did that go? Guilt just swallowed a big chunk of it even if I tried to strike back. Are we there yet? No, I don't think so. Having sad negs with my husband who is understandably feeling bad. I'd be too. But you just can't cast away your life, someone always gets hurt by our feelings and choices.

And once again, life is mostly a balancing act. I want to keep my new love and hurt people as little as humanly possible. Yeah, it is jewels and dust.




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Thursday, May 18, 2006

absent-minded blogger - in love

Hi friends! I have been a baddie. I have not been keeping time. Sometimes it is hard to know, even for myself, where I have been, at which blog and out of them. This is not a bloggie time. There is so much to live for and so much to give. So I've been doing just that. Sorry for no visits, etc.

I'm in love again. Yes, it is that simple, yet it is slow, because I need to figure things out little by little. It is reciprocal all the way and in every way - miracula. My head is singing in choir with my heart. Yes, it is that serious, this illness I did not think I'd catch again.

I'm in love with the neighbor boy
{42 but a boy}. There is a lot of discussions about everything. He talks as much as I do. He has two kids too. And has lived on four continents - one more than I have! And he lives across the street. There really is some hope that things will be easier now with everything. Including living arrangements with the children. They can even stay at their home if they want to. This is not saying it is going to be easy on them, or me, or anyone.

Maybe that was the thing with the previous post. I just knew some things were going to change, that for once I did not have to be the changing force. Now someone else is driving.

Have a GREAT Thursday!!!!


Ann Marie
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Thursday, May 11, 2006

jewels and dust

garden abstract artJewels of the springtime, all the trees are in flower, and it is oh so relative, like everything else... there is always dust on the shiniest floor and mirror when the light hits them.

I have stopped wanting things.

Call that laziness, call it that idiotic idiom "go with the flow", but things seem to be coming when you do not expect them.

When life lights up and lightens up, as if someone had switched on the lights... I feel so much younger than several weeks ago. That was a change of heart. I decided it is going to be okay. I decided it will change by itself, just stop watching the same film where you are just a spectator. And. The outside is changing too. I have stopped hating Canada so much versus Europe. It was just me - and this nowhere town. There is no furious questioning about future.

It is just that - all relative, jewels and dust.

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Wednesday, May 10, 2006

oh well I did meet someone...

tree abstractThis is how it goes. You think you are over with 'em guys, You don't give a fuck, and maybe two weeks after the strangest thing arrives on your buggy plate of life.

Not a fly.

I was filling up at the gas station - for what it is worth - and there goes a guy hugging a Christmas tree calling me up. And I turn. He says "Anna". I go - "M... " - with his last name... and think "this is not real this is not really happening" like Tori Amos, it was a long time ago. After all, why should you meet someone interesting but who never came to that African farewell party... ten years after, living across the street? Go figure. I do not know. He was shining in that crowded place. "I wonder why..."

Anyway it is getting interesting. At least something to look forward to. No expectations. The email exchange {maybe 8 back-and-forths just today} was interesting. He is kind. He is not playing hide-and-seek. That was fun when I did not know what I wanted. But. Now. Indifference here - to hell with all that. And that guy there - Mystery games and fake soulmates, and double takes, just the same.

And my marriage, you say? Just the same. I have been tryin' {"back the tears...
"}.for two years, very hard and for four years, trying hard enough. Talk about the kiddies, talk about work, I am not instantly dying but I do expect better from life, because I cannot, will not, and certainly should not "settle for less". I always thought there'd be a neigbor boy. I've written songs about that. The glorious, easy casual way.

But as I say - I may be superstitious - and now who knows who is reading this - I mean not BE nor tagged or linked friendies - I'm still here, not making any dumb efforts and ... just kinda peace, without the grass.


Welcome Meg, Scott, Jason, Sandra, shmamber if you are reading this ...

... this is not always funny but it is my life!


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watering the inner botanical garden

waterDoing what? I have been painting a lot lately and it seems to yield more pure joy than writing alone. Writing is often a dry, grey-matter activity whereas visual arts give more water to the inner botanical garden and seem to shape that landscape in a different way. So let's just say I am gardening.
What has happened lately? I ran into an old friend ten years after at the nearby gas station. The last time I saw him was in South Africa and I had to make a double take when he called me by an old nickname.
What is that nickname? I am not sure I should say. It is Anna. It has something to do with my full birth name. But sounds a bit pollyannaish.
Was that fun? YES! He is a sweetie. A very intelligent man in his early forties - I'd guess. He just emailed me.
Are you going out with him? Yes, but not in that "going out" sense.
What else?Scott said I should take a second mortgage. I am against them. But he is very sweet and kind.
But if you link to Scott he will find the diary! Yes. It means he can come 'round.
And family matters - do they matter? I am not thinking about it much. Kids are sweet and Nick is not so irritable these days.
That sounds more like it. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But the writing contest was totally from hell.
Do you want to talk about it? Well someone bugged me a lot and that is against the rules! I mean, saying that THIS person should get the credits and not the person right below. That is disagreeing with my judgment and I disliked the tone and copying others in emails directed to me. Grr..
Can't you just get over it? Yes. I have. Now back to artwork! I want to make abstract trees and flowers!

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spring jewels

spring jewels abstract artThis poetry basement is tired of writing poetry and waxing lyrical so I am posting this instead! Freshly made spring jewels!

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Monday, May 08, 2006

there's no cure for life

The poet chickie here at the poetry basement has become an administrator. Call it life management. Do this, do that - I have my so-called patients {yeah that!}, branding business, research, bloggies.... is that a full life? Some could say it is.

But now I am so tired. "Been burned....". Today I'm just going to see my doctor - yeah that is what I always say - and try to have a Do-Nothing Day. But I doubt he can suggest a cure for life. No he is not a shrink. I am not seeing one. That was ten years ago. Some stupid things happened and just feeling weary feeling small... the poetry basement is not waxing lyrical today. Maybe tomorrow when the tired eyes are open again.

Take care you all and do not overwork yourself to death! The apple blossoms are in full bloom here.

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Saturday, May 06, 2006

I am the worst boss I have ever had

Hi anyone who cares about my authority and .... authorship. I made you laugh? Author-shit? Well okay then. I am the worst boss I have ever had.

I have known bullies. I have known fly-by-nights. That is no corporate knives, eh? It is great to be my own boss. But when I am my own boss - well, suddenly the apple blossoms do not matter. I am the worst boss on earth!!!

I do not give myself a lunch break. Just free coffee. And I am way underweight. So there are no perks. Just business. I am my ego, id, and super-duper ego.

Just work your ass off Carrie. Research, arts, writing.... same sh@t.

Are we having fun yet?


Have you tried being your own boss? Are you a bully ?


Do you have an interesting, whining, writing, whatever great blog? Want a link? I do if I like your blog. Just email me. Fair trades only.

carrie@theconceptlab.com.

Signed Carry-it-All

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AND - yeah even me!!!


Thursday, May 04, 2006

revived, divided, deluded, no dividends yet

Hi there all. I have decided this divided blog is going to be the poetry basement. Because here I am at the first floor office writing and this is my hideout.

I'm divided. I may be deluded. And yes, revived by the sun and the spring. Yet it's hard to know what we really want. Wanting as such may be an obstacle of getting anywhere. It is like a major power wall between here and there. I have become this lazy character who does not really want. Just wish, the stargazer I am, upon constellations of the present and the future.

The sloth has been wandering outside, just put my nose out and take walks vs. driving everywhere, see the flowers, there are a great deal of them and the apple trees have bloomed. I am waiting for the cherry tree time, when everything gets rosy here, purple splashes of fragile, delicate flowers.

Yeah I know this is not the update. Why? Because there is none. I wrote him the truth in a nice way. I mean not tacky or all over him because I can be quite overpowering a character and this has got to change - and it slowly is. Just a note of what is going on here as he recently divorced and understands this and how I am feeling about it - quite okay - and that I am still thinking about him.

I was afraid of a rejection. And I know him. No letter - no email - it's okay and he's thinking. Get an email right away and it is not that at all. I said sorry about not being there, and told I'd call when I will. Fair? He seemed so much into getting there again together at Christmas and earlier - when it's 12 years months do not count - amnd my tracker elsewhere shows he's been reading several times a day.

Hmm? I say it's okay. And I need the time too. If I get a friggin' letter I might go crazy and just back off. This is how logical I am.

Reading - 's new book. It is great.

Listening - the garden and not my reasoning reason trying to settle things here. Because it ain't working.

Mood - Feeling that the world is so big and great and full of everything interesting.

Writing - My assignment.
Now that it's said and done I finally manage!

Have a great day!!!

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Tuesday, May 02, 2006

because I am still in love with him

Call me stupid, 'cause I am. Somehow I just hope a 12 years itch or whatever STD this is is going to end. Not the husband, okay, but phil a. I mean, begin again or end. I did not really help my cause by that short story. I was mad at him and wrote that stupid thing and then he was mad at me and now it's peace again. I mean - back to some sort of normalcy and neutrality, that shit is forgotten.

I just wrote a letter to my future self that will be sent to me in a few months via a great site, FutureMe - try it. And I just realized then that even if I forget it, try to forget it, call him names in my head I am still in love with him and well one'd be really stupid not to realize it. Antonia, friendies - what can I do? He wrote me. No no I have been a good girl it's not like "this is breaking my marriage" thing. It is breaking by itself. But there are no glass shards here. I mean it is okay.

And I am not there. I do not feel like him a bloody email. I let him down a few times on dates. And now I can't go - I'm stuck with the article and I do not give a damn about the article. If you are psychic or something - tell me. I am too damned afraid of saying anything any more. I feel like a kid. A sure sign. Still in with somebody 12 years after and seeing him casually and well, okay, I just had to get this out of my system. How do you end this kind of thing? This is what I have been from. The fact. That longing and sense of belonging. And then again it has not exactly been paradise, but very good. I have known a few guys, right?

But this one thing, this guy is not going to go away.


But now I want to know.

.... And I sound like an idiot, a real teeny kinda in-lovey thing. Crying out for help. A true idiot freakin' out.


... And eventually because I need it - to be in love right now - a replacement would be nice too if I'm doing things all wrong again... Because that is not here. Maybe I won't die.

Added later - Maybe I will die. Because I did write that email. Come hell or high water... No, I am not brave. But I am here. Not there.


okay then, I am someone else!

Hi there friendies... I have noticed that you have noticed that I am not really Carrie. Just see the comments...

I am the same chick who writes on some other blogs and if you come here and notice you can say "Hi I know who you are" and that means well... that you know me well. And now.. I have to tag Jod{i}, Antonia and paris parfait who ... hmmm... noticed.

That's okay. This diary would not be online if it was not and I linked to you for great reasons. It is just my diary... and I don't want everybody to know. Just you, reader.... Ha ha.

So go ahead and read. It is not fun every minute of the film but getting much better. I am taking charge of the cricumstances and not just whining about it. A is soon a dead . So - change it! I am. Just slowly. My rising sign must be turtle or something.

Today I am procrastinating big time. I just can't can't can't make myself . It is too beautiful outside and {insert any pretext you can find}. It's great to have a home office with windows on the orchards and it is lousy in the sense that you can spend time tinkering around with the computer instead of doing that research and this assignment. I know it does not show much here but I have been doing on the other bloggies not listed here - Wow, IE 6 renders them great now and I am a Firefox chick - and when you get to that you're done for the damned day. It was just a text-align thang and the original coder had got it wrong. I was looking for a tiny taggie thingie... So I redid the whole sites.

No! I am taking a break and switching to offline mode and get back to .
I am - I am.

Monday, May 01, 2006

news from the poetry basement

Springtime is a friend of mine. This has been a minefield for so many years. These years lived in , part two. The part one was not bad. It still was that blessed grad student life with no worries. At spring I resurface like poets do, from the hibernation nation this country is.

Yesterday was light as a breeze mostly. The of the rosy golden sun. I have taken not to like talking about the so-called Important Things like women so often like to do. I had a picnic in the orchard with kids - some wine, home-made bread, cheese - it was a Northern European story about a students' party day so of course there had to be wine - and also, elsewhere in this world, the Worker's Day. Here when it is that day, people just go to work with their huge coffee mugs, the North American way. They are just fĂȘting the part of it. Very logical here. must go on.

I am an immigrant of sorts, from many contries. I have been a migrating, bird for the longest time. Europe - many countries. Africa. Several. The migrating kind of life was good. The matters still go on but I am not taking part in that kind of stuff. Refinance equities mortgages - it is so strange for where I come from and my family - read parents - would consider that strongly immoral. The "make do" ideology has no grip on me. The quick fix thing. Sometimes you just fucking break it.

I have decided that I just wanna be a and an artist. Even with all that is marginal in the common connotations, I am starting to accept a calling since childhood. No, I was not brought up that way. And I still do my revenue declarations.

Have a happy day and don't refinance that house if you can. nd participate to Ann Marie's at the poetic justice site site... seems we have both switched back to damned readymade templates because of IE bugs.

Take care all...