Of Metal and Mayhem and the Softer Side….

….of clarklike females. So yeah. The vid today is of a clarklike female. Performed by a clarklike female. Du-uh. Dead giveaway? The boots. With that dress. OK. “Easy peasy”. For clarks to spot at any rate. Sure. Plenty of my sisters wear boots. It’s not the fact of boots, rather the wearing of them that makes the difference. What do I mean by that? Well, it’s about what it represents. It is not a conscious thing.

How to tell the clark, scotts and rogers in your life? Well, there are certain “characteristics”, markers if you will, that give you a clue. Bottom line? It’s how a person relates themselves to the world. I often talk with Clark of the Wakefield Doctrine. You too, btw, can call in every Saturday night, 8:00 pm EST.  We wind up talking Doctrine eventually, right Cyndi? :)

I’m about self-development. Most of you know that already.  Being a clark, it’s a nev-er – en-ding endeavour. As it happens, I was talking to Clark yesterday. One thing led to another and we got talking about his post about rogers and their “expression“. About what it means for a roger to lose their “expression”, what it means when there is no longer a “context” for them to manifest that expression. Conclusion? It’s not a personal thing. It’s about the herd.

Our conversation ended with a brief discussion about the rogerian characteristic known as “lashing out”. What it represents, how it manifests and with whom. Hint:  scotts got nothin’ to worry about! It’s a sensitive topic for sure. Who likes to talk about the negative aspects of our selves?

I won’t lie. It’s often not a pretty conversation. But you know the old saying – “no pain, no gain”. Self improvement, from a clark’s perspective, requires talking about (for example) our propensity to tolerate a roger’s lashing out as much as why rogers behave this way with clarks (mostly).

Yep. Much can be learned about oneself via the Wakefield Doctrine. And I’m talking to you scotts! and rogers now as well. You can learn a ton of shit about other people. And learn a lot about your own damn self.

At some point, when the dots start connecting, when the language to express the understanding begins to emerge, it’s a hell of a lot of fun. It’s not all about the negatives. It’s simply about what makes people tick. Life 101.

There’s a common saying about the Doctrine: “it’s for you, not them”.  Think I’m going to request a special order t shirt from Clark with just that saying…

It’s Wednesday. Thanks for stopping by and reading my mid-week ponderings. Hey Christine! More music that doesn’t make your ears bleed:)

 

It’s a Non TToT Sunday.

It’s Sunday night. I’m sitting on the bed, in the room that has been “home” for the last 9 months. I have the overhead light on because I have my laptop plugged into the outlet usually reserved for my bedside lamp. Not that it’s dark in here. Not yet. In fact, it’s still light outside. I can see it seeping through the slits of the verticals. It’s a soft sunset tonight. I can tell.

I went out over an hour ago for a walk. My bone building walk. After I cooled down, after a not uplifting conversation with my distant other half, I decided to fix myself something to eat. Yes! I’ve made progress in the weight department – up to 106 lbs. Woohoo!

I don’t often buy meat but when I was in the store a couple of weeks ago I spotted a package containing 3 little steaks. Boneless, red, oval. I took them home. This evening, God forgive me, I put one of them in a frying pan. It is my only option. After keeping an eye on the tiny piece of protein and when it was cooked as well as could be expected, I put it on a small plate. Not the dinner one. The salad one. Or did they used to call it the desert plate? At any rate, small steak on plate, I headed back to “camp”.

I’d been sitting on the left side of the bed.(left, as in looking towards the bottom of the bed). In my other TimeLine, I’d be sitting on the right side. The right side had been my side. Huh….. anyway, back propped by 4  pillows, the wall served as headboard.  The laptop was in front of me. A minimum of 2 books, a couple of magazines, a pen, some paper were strewn beside me. Table set.

I put the plate on the bedside table to my left and situated myself. Ok. Computer screen at 12 o’clock, right leg straight out, left leg curled in. Half Indian style I guess. Anyway, I set the plate on the bed directly in front of myself, moved the computer a little closer and dug in. Yeah, it was a little tough but hey, I’m just eating it to get the benefits, yo.

Almost immediately, I slowed down (seems I was a bit hungry) and decided to cut the few pieces I’d already cut into yet smaller pieces.  I did this….slowly. Deliberately. Suddenly my thoughts were totally of my Dad. I remembered how, in his later years, he would cut his meat – precisely, in small, bite size pieces. Immediately, I made the concious decision to cut the entire tiny steak before me in this same manner. It felt weird, but not.  It made me think of Phyllis and her guest post at the Wakefield Doctrine’s Guest Post Thursday’s Guest Post.

There is no one who will iron and think of me. There is no one to cut their meat and think of me. What in the world, I wonder, will someone think of me. One day.

 

 

 

 

 

Me, My Metaphysical Self and I

I just scrapped the 538 words I wrote last night. Inadequate. I struggled for 500 words to find the “right” ones. To describe an event, a concept, an accomplishment, a marker of sorts. I, who never fully developed her musical side, must rely on words. And those my friends are few and far between lately.

What can I say? I was rumaging through some old papers and found a scribble. The title of this song.

Been having some computer issues lately. It’s been of some concern. When my keyboard seemed to be going out to lunch the last couple of days, I thought it time to take my laptop to a shop for some “same day service”. People shouldn’t lie. Anyway, for $20 I got someone to tell me:1) yes, I do need a new battery (that one I figured out on my own), 2) the sound I was hearing off and on was an alert that my keyboard was….in distress. So for $60 and a 2 day sleep-over, the Geek guys could verify the malfunction and replace my keyboard.

No sleep-overs for my lapbaby. Last night. I don’t know how. I fixed my keyboard my own damn self. But like I said, don’t ask me how. I can’t tell you. What I can tell you is that I was in a rare state in which my body was calling the shots. By 9:50 pm last night I was typing. And actual letters were appearing on my screen:)

If  it’s not too late, I’d like to submit my entry for the TToT hop along. You know, I’ve never “followed the rules” of the hop. Hell, never followed any of the “rules”. I understand that the thanks should be for things in the preceding week. Let’s give this a shot.

1) Johnny, while I type. Except now when I listen to him it’s different. “Cuz he’s dead.

2) The enduring ability to believe. In things I cannot readily see. Until I “see”.

3) Music in general. Music everyday.

4) For doing a good stand down job (ironic humor?) of flat ironing my hair today. Needless to say, I won’t be doing it again any time soon.

5) Geez, how could I let this be #5….fixing my keyboard.!! So let’s count this as 6, 7 & 8. You all know what book allows me to do so.

9) Almost! Almost getting completely caught up at work.

10) Allowing myself to be open to the idea of a complete change of venue. Jobistically speaking.

There Was No Whiter Shade of Pale…

I had a crappy day today. Felt bad. Stomach issues. But I didn’t die. Johnny Winter died. Yesterday.

How did I find out? I opened my mail tonight and there was the e-mail from The Secessionist Rag. Roger had  a new post. A Brief Intermission. To say that Johnny Winter was dead. Damn.

It wasn’t all that long ago I was talking about Johnny in a post: my first guitar crush, my first concert, my first blues guy. I loved him. He was always and forever.

I cried after reading of Johnny’s passing. Of all the beloved musicians that have left this planet, I shed tears only for him. His music figured quite prominently in the soundtrack that was/is my life. The impact his music had on me since adolescence has been tremendous. Not yet a teenager, I was hooked with his first album….

I’m going to bed now. Sad. And heartbroken.

I suppose it appropriate that the song I post is the very first that “got me”. His rendition of the Henry Glover song was just….it just was. And so it became my “go to” song through early adolescence. Hell, it’ll always be my “go to” song….especially tonight.

 

 

“Yes, Virginia. 6 Did turn out to be 9…”

…and there are allies* at the Edge. I feel a need to write a followup to my post for yesterday’s TToT. Revelations, inspirations, confirmations, affirmations. I feel a need to acknowledge all of those “tions” on the big screen. I have Clark of the Wakefield Doctrine fame to thank for that realization.(“geez, Clark. Thanks a lot *sarcasm dripping outta my mouth*) Got to give credit where credit is due, right? LOL . Hey, it’ still the weekend. Make that Thankful #1.

So last night I called in to the Saturday Night Wakefield Doctrine Drive Call In. I don’t think I’ve missed a call in show in all the years it’s been in existence. (Yo! TToT #2)  Conversation began in typical fashion with the exchange of “pleasantries”. It soon came around to blogs and writing. Clark mentioned he’d left a comment at my post. “Yes, I saw. Thank you.” was my response. He then asked if I realized I had messed up on my numbering at the end.

“What? Damn! Really? Fuck! Had no idea! I remembered going over it carefully. In fact, I remembered a little edit at the end where, at that time, at least I thought, I made sure the numbers ran sequentially 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Wasn’t I being all clever today I thought. How to get away without listing a full 10 Things of Thankful… I can skip at least 4 of them by jumping straight away to #10 by employing the “if 6 was 9″ rule. Not to be confused with SR 95.05 whereupon it states, and I quote: “any TToT Post wherein a genuine desire has been established for the listing of 10 items can be amended such that the 10th item is arrived at by sincere and thought out means.” This my friends is most certainly TToT #3, #4, #5, #6, #7 and #8.

Still on the phone, I quickly go to my post. Re-reading it, I realize sure enough, I doubled up on #2 and #3. But wait! Count the numbers again, including the duplicate ones. What do they add up to? Now go and read the last paragraph again:

“if 6 did turn out to be 9 today. And! If I had already written 6 of my 10 thankfuls like everyone is expected to :1) another day I woke up, 2) sunshine and blue sky today, 3) a fully functional body, 2) a job, 3) music, 4) a working car, 5) summer berries, 6) health insurance, then that would leave me with having one thankful left. Therefore, I conclude with thanks for believing and witnessing personal power.”

So there I was thinking myself all clever like. Listing 10 things of thankful without really listing 10 things. But I screwed up. Hey. That’s #8 right there – if I realize I’ve made a mistake, I try to correct it. To make it right. In this case. Look closer. Maybe, just maybe it wasn’t a mistake?! Count from #1, including the “doubled” # 2 and #3. They add up to 8. My very last item makes 9.

No. I did not do any of that on a conscious level. Today’s #’s 9 and #10? The “doing” of a thing without the realization that on some other level you are “doing” something else and then being lucky enough, after the fact, to be able to go back and see and wonder how…..6 did, in fact, turn out to be 9.

*Reference to Carlos Castenada’s books. “An ally will make you see and understand things about which no human being could possibly enlighten you.”

“Now if 6 Turned Out to Be 9″

Don’t ask me why. Or how. I simply don’t know. The title is the title. As I write this at 3:19 on Saturday, July 12, 2014 I am light years from all the very many posts that “wrote” themselves in my head today while out on the morning walk. No shit. Isn’t that always the way!

I checked the clock on my phone:10:20 am. A little late to start but I was pumped, primed and ready to do my power walking. I used to walk a lot in the before timeline. With Man and 2 Dogs. Then Man and 1 Dog. We walked. In the park. Through town. Distance, exercise, community. Especially when we’d run into someone familiar and stop to chat. My favorite? Martha and her 2 golden retrievers, Tobias and Hermine. They were brother and sister but to look at them? Tobias was big. Alright lol, overweight:) Big, cuddly, roly, poly Toby. Hermine. She was skinny. And surely the scott of the 2. Couldn’t sit still for a minute. Except when you were rubbing her belly or otherwise rubbing her somewhere. She demanded all the attention!!

I have never met 2 more lovable dogs. Excluding ours of course! They took to us instantly. Hermine and Tobias were pure piles of furry love. They wanted it, they gave it. Like we’d been family for years. But I digress… Yes. I had many fabulous posts writing in my head this sunny, summer morning. I was on fire as they say.  I’ve complained in the past, I’ll complain again: why has no one come up with the brain tickertape? The one that will automatically spit out all the magical and prolifc word formations that seem to abound when you are not even close to a keyboard! Or pen and paper even!

Now here I sit, suffering from the slow paralysis that is “intentional writing”.  I have…..nothing. How can that even be? How can I have all this dialogue going on in my head while out walking and now….Z RO.  And then I thought of Zoe. You may know her from her blog Rewritten. Or you may have seen her comments at other folks blogs. She does get around. She’s very good like that. Taking time to read and comment and support her fellow writers.

As she lamented her ongoing writer’s block, I thought what a good post she’d written for the TToT. It was simple. Sincere. And a darned good piece of writing. Maybe. Just maybe the Ten Things of Thankful Bloghop could help me.  Here I am.

If 6 did turn out to be 9 today. And! If I had already written 6 of my 10 thankfuls like everyone is expected to :1) another day I woke up, 2) sunshine and blue sky today, 3) a fully functional body, 2) a job, 3) music, 4) a working car, 5) summer berries, 6) health insurance, then that would leave me with having one thankful left. Therefore, I conclude with thanks for believing and witnessing personal power.

 

 

Yeah, there must be…..

What does this particular clark have that sustains him? Through the years of….name changes, professional/personal controversy, on again off again fans/popularity. To be clear, I’m not a “fan” of Prince, he of no name, however, he has made music I like. A lot. This clip for instance. I really like this clip. Hm. Maybe I am a fan.

Why? What is it about this clip? There are times when a music video, a film, a scene from a film simply “resonates”. It evokes an….emotion, a reaction that is plain and simply, physical. No thinking involved. No “figuring”. It simply is a thing that causes a “reaction”. Hm. Think I just might be a fan of “pure” creativity.

This man, who hails from a musical background, has managed to live in the world of his choosing. The world of the arts. Music, film. Prince appears to have transcended prejudice, fair weather fandom, transitional phases…no doubt his own damn self. You know like us, only on a grander scale.

So one thing led to another, you know how that goes with the Tube.  I got to watching various music vids of Prince’s 2013 tour of Portugal and his 2014 tour of England. The one up there at the top of the post. It was filmed at a show in Manchester, England.(duhyeah Girlie, they can read). His audience adores him! They sing his lyrics, they clap their hands enthusiastically. Prince, his music, is infectious. There is sharing on a grand scale of something undescribable. It’s the same yet completely different. For each person.

Did you know he wrote the song Manic Monday? Silly me! I always thought it was writtne by the Bangles! I didn’t know this. Until today. I never would have guessed that Prince could write such a “girly” song. LOL  Come on, admit it! The man’s got charisma. And musical chops. And a rather consistent penchant for musical hooks.

Prince’s manifestation of his creativity has been pretty damned consistent for well over 2 decades. And I am ridiculoulsy impressed by this. It’s not often an artist can sustain a style, an energy ,over time… as they age. As much as I love, love Metallica there is no mistaking they’re no longer kids. The “edge” is gone. The edge of youth. The energy. Of youth. It’s different now that they’re middle age men.

Time does not necessarily erode creativity but it sure does affect it’s manifestation. Yes! I’m hooked on that word. Whadya want?! I’m a clark and when you get right down to it, our creativity never stops trying to manifest itself. The trick, the key is finding the one thing that keeps it all fresh. Maybe it’s more than one thing. Maybe it’s multiple things.

And then, maybe as Joey laments, “somebody put something in my drink“.

 

 

 

 

It’s Sunday. Thank God for Ripple Effects.

Aack! A catchy post title eludes me this morning. I’m a moron today. Vocabulary playing hide and seek. Oh, welly, well well. I shall plunder, plonder, plug on through…..plod. I like that one – “plod”.  It’s Sunday. And here I sit in bed writing a post on a Sunday morning. I’ve almost consumed my second and last cup of m-dil-e-i-cious coffee and wishing I was starting with the first all over again.

My posts have been few and far between *reader(s) begins to yawn*. But it all makes perfect sense, writing this today, Sunday, in the morning. It all “fits”. See, in my younger years and when I was a single individual, I lived in small, cozy apartments with 2 cats. Madeline and Jamaal. In those days I was in the habit of writing a journal of sorts. Mostly when the mood came upon me but I never didn’t write on Sunday mornings.

As I’ve done for decades, I rise and zumba into – what?! no! – I zombie into – yeah, more like that – the kitchen to put grounds of sheer bliss into a basket so that H2O can flow over them and force from them the goodness and gold I call the “go-go” juice. Yup, don’t function all that well unless I consume at least 8 ounces of the “juice”. If  forced to, I can at least leave the house. Please note-16 ounces is the preferred amount for full functionality. But I digress.

Once upon a single Sunday, coffee in mug, I would sit in a round back swivel chair.  I’d have my paper and pen. The pad, yellow legal. The pen, blue. Always blue. Oft the color of my self when I took to the pen. At some point, usually when I had barely begun to write, Madeline would jump up into my lap. Damn! How am I going to write with a cat sitting on my legal pad. She was telepathic and got the message. Only now I had a cat draped over my right arm. I am right handed. Trust me – writing with a feline draped over the arm is…a challenge. But it can be done! She wouldn’t stay the entire time I wrote but sometimes she did. Perhaps to insure that I did? Stay and write? Was she trying to help me? Huh. Maybe so.

The swivel round back chairs are now in storage. Madeline and Jamaal (named for Jamaal Wilkes, back when he played for the Lakers. No! I am not a Lakers fan. I used to be a huge Celtics fan back in the day when those 2 teams were always in the playoffs. Ah, those were the days.) are long gone from the planet. But tradition is tradition it seems. Habit begets habit. Routines are tough to kill

This is not, I repeat NOT what I was going to write this morning but now that I’m here I will continue. For the gazillionth time, but not recently, I remembered how single, seemingly small events can trigger: emotion, action, reflection. It can be as simple as a conversation. That sets off a chain of discovery, re-discovery, reflection, self-reflection.

This is what happend for me. Why? Because Jean, jenah, genay, called into the Wakefield Doctrine Saturday Night Drive Call In last night. Thanks to Jean I got to searching the web for images. They were New York related. I happened upon an image of an article that appeared in the New York Times on July 22, 1962 about Rachel Carson and her book “Silent Spring”. The woman pretty much single handedly took on the chemical industry by writing what was then an extremely controversial, well documented expose on the use and effects of DDT on our environment, our selves. Had Jean not called in last night I would not now know about Rachel Carson and her incredible work to educate about and preserve our planet.

I’m “going long” as they say in football parlance. But that’s OK. It felt important this morning to write an acknolwedgment to the small, seemingly insignificant things in life that, given the chance, have the potential to lead us places we never may have ever thought about otherwise.

Yes, this is a TToT post because I know up there in all those 750+ *gasp* words are more than 10 things I am thankful for. As always, thanks to Lizzi for this, her brainchild. And thanks always to all who contribute to the Ten Things of Thankful Blog Hop. Perpetual reading material. Can’t get any better than that!

One more thing! Jean contributed to my understanding about the worldview of scotts! Most chillin’.

 

 

Sticks and stones may break my bones….

So may getting out of bed. Upon which I had this thought: there is no tomorrow until tomorrow. Makes facing today rather simple doesn’t it? No, no it doesn’t have to be pressure filled and difficult. All it requires is a choice. A choice of how you spend the day. It’s not about the what, it’s about the how.

As a clark, I’m always reminding myself of this. Why? Because I’m one of the many clarks whose lives didn’t quite turn out like I thought it would/wanted it to/dreamed of. No, I do not mean to imply this is the purview of clarks only. Simply, that there are more clarks in the world having this thought right now than scotts or rogers.

What does that mean? It means being on the cusp of the life dreamed and then….ya didn’t close the deal. There are always circumstances surrounding the events in our lives but the key factor to remember in all circumstances: there is/are choice(s).

Yes people, this is one of those posts. What of it, huh? Can’t help myself. (no, that”s not true either!) Of course I can. What this is all about I suppose is finding a message for others. A message for those younger people who still believe they have time. Still have an opportunity to “go for the gold”.

I’ve had the opportunity recently of observing a young person struggle with the decision to leave her present place of employment for another job. To be witness in a casual observer kind of way, the process of her decision. The unknown is a frightening thing. More frightening the younger you are. The one constant, the one commonality is the choice to face that fear head on. The choice to embrace the unknown for the possibility of better.

The unfamiliar, the unknown represents different things to different people. Which is to say it means something different for a clark, scott or roger. The “unknown” for a clark represents challenge and the possibility of anything. scotts are alright with the unknown because they rely on their base instincts to carry them through.  rogers have the most difficulty with the (concept of) unknown. For all the obvious reasons. (go read the Wakefield Doctrine ‘cuz today is not about them, it’s about me! LOL) 

It’s true. I’m struggling with the stupid writer’s block. When all else fails, go to the self -help drawer. Which is to say myself. Look to myself for ways to help someone else: avoid the pitfalls, the too long way around, the bad way, the silly way, the fearful way, of navigating life.

You know, today is Sunday. The second day of the weekend. It is also the last day to participate in the Ten Things of Thankful blog hop. A hop created by Lizzi and hosted by the following: Christine, Sarah. Kristi, Michelle, Dyanne, Sandy, Zoe, Kristi, affectionately known as K2, Clark

Lizzi and everyone who participates is doing what I hope to do. Which is to share not only in the struggle that is daily life but in the joys of daily life. To share the finding of those joys in spite of and amidst the challenge of individual circumstance.

It is quite apparent when navigating the many blogs of those writers who choose to participate, that no one is exempt from life’s challenges. They represent a community that holds enormous strength, encouragement, warmth and genuine concern.

I hope in some small way this post qualifies for a Ten Things of Thankful entry.

Reciprocity. Yes! There is a recipe.

Wow! Long time since I changed my blog theme. LOL In the old days you had to pretty much put it together for yourself. Last time I had to figure out how to get the code right just to install the Feedjit! I am liking the advance in technology. Easy.

Me? I’m still with the free versions from WordPress. Much to choose from and until I become more knowledgable about HTML and such, I won’t  be building any websites too soon. In fact, I was thinking of a topic that a lot of folks out here have been batting around off and on for…a long time. And that’s the idea of leaving this blogging thing. Just putting it on the ground and walking away. What an excellent exercise!

To be honest, I’ve not fully invested in thinking about the ramifications of shutting down GirlieOnTheEdge. Not really. I’ve been touting this horn for going on 5 years come October. It’s been a process as they say. Ups, downs, practice, not practice, fun, challenging. That’s it. It is a challenge. And the challenge is still sufficiently present that I cannot yet throw this thing down on the ground. In fact, quite the opposite.

GirlieOnTheEdge requires, demands, insists that I pay more attention. That I find words and write them. Out here. For people to see. But not just any ole words. They must be meaningful. Helpful. Amusing. Insightful. Educational. Entertaining. Illuminating. Inspiring. Uninhibited. Truthful.

But there is one more part of this thing. Reciprocity. Life is about that ya know? It should be anyway. I only need ponder for a moment life before blogging. No, not a bad life. Yet, once I took that first step into space, everything changed. Little by little, slowly, I emerged from a world of more or less finite components and stepped out and into an arena filled with endless possibility and opportunity.

I have met an awful lot of people via this medium. More than in real life! That almost sounds impossible but it’s not. I’ve met people who share their lives unselfishly. Who offer their creativity, their art, their compassion, themselves, to anyone. For anyone. To enjoy, learn from, commiserate with, find comfort.

Reciprocity. It’s a good thing. Sounds like a great name for a brand:) It makes an excellent adjective….and it’s a thing to be worked at, practiced until it’s a normal part of living. Life. It is reciprocal.

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