I would be lying through my teeth if I claimed to be happy lately. No, after last week’s election results, I am anything but happy. I am sad, I am frustrated, I am hurting, and most of all, I am disappointed.
So very disappointed. If you follow me on Twitter and Instagram, you have already heard me express this disappointment. In fact, last week I found myself unable to focus on anything but my disappointment. However, it has now been one week. One solid, dreadful, tear stained week since that dark evening when I realized that this country is far more cruel than I ever thought possible. And if I don’t move on now, pick up my feet and get moving, I may never stop hurting.
I have decided that, besides wearing safety pins each day, I am going to at least try to focus on art. Not only will art live to tell the tale that no, not everyone is racist/mysoginyst, but art will fuel us into healing. Because that is just the thing – we can’t mope forever; there is work to do. And so it would occur that it is time for another 10 Thing Tuesday to get me started, if for no other reason than to make myself feel a little lighter, and to hopefully give you something wonderful to latch onto.
Treating yourself to daisies after a long, hard cry.
The view of a mother at the grocery gently reaching for her child’s hand as the cart gently rolls down the aisles. It is powerful to experience something as mundane as grocery shopping but through new eyes that have yet to understand what each item is and how it may effect them. As she glances at her child, you wish them well and hope that this innocent little soul grows into a kind, caring adult.
The thought of thousands and thousands of hands clenching each other’s fingers in solidarity, as if to say, we are one people, we are united, and you will not disrespect my brothers and sisters based on their race, gender, religion, or sexuality. To think that the simple movement of a hand as it entwines its fingers in another is enough to put a deterrent on evil in this world… that is calming for the soul.
Watching a little girl learn to read, each word making her smarter, stronger, and wiser. Soon, the reruns of The Cat in the Hat will transform into Judy Blume novels, Harry Potter, C.S. Lewis, Jane Austen, religious texts, and perhaps even political or science studies. She does not know it yet, but being given the gift of reading will forever shape her life. Someday she may become a literary professor, a neurosurgeon, or even President of the United States… all because a teacher once taught her to read Curious George.
Awaking to the smell of breakfast on the stove – eggs and porridge and hot coffee dripping, both literaly and figuratively as it permeates the air around you. It is the knowlege that someone loves you… that some one is caring for you today, in this morning, in this moment that makes such a simple act as breakfast a moment to be cherished as the day wanes.
The warm feeling that fills your rib cage as your husband tells you that he done something as beautifully simple as make you a latte. In that moment, “latte” is synonymous with “love” for the most beautiful thing in the world.
Fast food workers blowing smoke dances in a cold, cold parking lot in the middle of a January evening. I always wonder why and when this dance became a normal part of their routine. Is the stress of a greatly underappreciated position? The opportunity to have more, better breaks in a field that is full of hard, grueling, thankless work? Or is it simply the opportunity to let others view that flicker in their eyes as they stand illuminated underneath the neon lights of America? If there is anything that can be truly, utterly American, it is to be overworked, under appreciated, neon-lit, and fast food consumed. It is some part of a greater picture in history.
Withdrawing strawberries from their artic grave on a Sunday morning, just when winter first comes out to play. Placing them in your oatmeal to add a little summer nostalgia is the only way, on that day, to combat the frost threatening to grow on your window.
Pilfering through a slough of knits while wearing nothing but your intimates on a Sunday morning.
Dancing on your tiptoes on a windowsill that overlooks the city while a kettle boils for Earl Grey and the wind blows a tulle skirt hanging onto a hook randomly screwed into the wall.
Current favorite words: scribbles, drift, ardent
Current color loves: yellow, green
What are your current lovely things to share? How are you brightening up any recent gloom?