Chicken Blog: Makers Live Here

Monday, March 14, 2016

Makers Live Here :: Seventy Three

It's happening everyday, all over the Bird House. Inside. Outside. Around here, stuff is getting made... like a new gate for the metal fence around the pool, pine cuttings for future craft projects, a box prototype for the skeletons. Carpentry, welding, forging, sewing, crafting, gluing, painting, playing, baking, designing, rendering, modeling, filming, messing up, tinkering, learning, making. It's what we do. There's a picture day!

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.

1 comment:

Jennifer said...: I love this -- the energy, the makings, the bits and pieces and big ideas. Make on!; March 19, 2016 at 5:04 PM

Chirp-Chirp-Chirp BirdHouse Notes

Hello. There has been some evidence that people are stopping by, reading Chickenblog. That's nice, and there have been comments, and that's been very nice... thank you, for those. I'd like to say, also, that I hope you are ok. Really, I hope you're doing great, but even ok is a pretty decent state to be in these days. These are not easy times, and we have a lot to figure out and manage, and even with all my flowers and kitties, and castles in the air, trust me: I struggle, too. Yes, so I hope you are doing ok, or at least have someone you can lean on. I hope you have a pot and some soil, or a favorite recipe you can cook again, and again. I hope you are sleeping, or reading good books. Just... you know, stay safe.

July 12, 2020

1:06 pm

In case, like me, you need reminding... it's never too late to learn, to begin again, to grow. In the last few weeks I have been actively learning history, and about systemic racism, and even more recently, I have been going through personal growth that is both hard and enlightening. I have been living with narratives about who I am and what I can achieve, what's "safe," but a lot of that is unraveling... and it's not comfortable! Not comfortable, until I've learned that my narratives were walls, defenses, and fears, but the truth is: I am good, and worthy. My "imperfections" are not flaws, they are traits and parts of the whole of me, and my traits do not make me less worthy. Fifty-three and a half years old, and I am still wishing/struggling to be good enough, to not offend, to be accepted. It's in my nature to feel empathy, to care about people's comforts, views, but along the way I have learned to believe that me being acceptable, loved, is conditional, and that has been a toxic barrier to self-acceptance and love, to knowing my worth. Likely, this lesson will need practice to internalize, and I'll need time to unlearn habits, develop loving narratives about who I am and my place in the world. I am so thankful to my children and husband, and for the chance to grow, to heal.

July 11, 2020

12:10 pm

Whoever decided it should rain, in Southern California, at the end of June: Thank You! Thank you very much. To show my gratitude, I will continue wearing a face mask when I am in public, and I will carry on demanding justice for Elijah McClain, and Breonna Taylor. Black Lives Matter.

June 29, 2020

10:41 am

I have no less than three lengthy, and deeply personal essays in the works, and all I can say, for now, is:

We didn't get the trash barrels to the curb.

Sadly, I can't be sure much else matters.

June 10, 2020

1:01 pm