Writing My Column

I've got to prepare my article for my Emerging Music column. I have a particular artist in mind, but I have yet to receive the publicity kit promised. I noted a couple of other new artist that I believe deserve some exposure, but for some reason I am dragging my feet in getting their features together.

Oh well, maybe I'll have a burst of energy later today!

Goings On

Posting daily has not been an option of late. My venture into temping was short-lived; three days. It was good to have done it, and good to know I do still have some very marketable skills, but other local opportunities called and I was more than thrilled to respond to those and leave that horrid, horrid man behind. Three days was more than enough to realize that his misery is contagious and to understand in retrospect some of the anxiety I saw in the eyes of those compelled to share his space every day.

Then, I got a twenty-five word email a few days ago that still has me in shock. It was the greatest possible vote of confidence any writer could ever dream of receiving. I was not expecting it and the door it offered to open was one I'd envisioned only in my dreams. The outcome is certainly not a certainty, but what it really, really said can never be minimized or discounted!

But, to make sure life stays in balance, a few very important friends and I got an odd message regarding something we're working on that has left us all scratching our heads. It seemed to be in such contrast to prior information and, for the time being at least, is somewhat unsettling.

More later!

Light on the Subject

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I'm taking stock, not because I want to, but because I have to. It sounds like a cliche but nothing better describes where it all is right now than simply to say that my life has spun completely out of control.

I'm incline, when it gets this crazy, to do something drastic. My life is pock marked from the evidence of those drastic leaps, most of which definitely were not for the better, and my pyche bewails the price paid and time required to undo those past rash decisions.

So, this time I will take stock and reach for every ounce of wisdom and experience I possess, I will pray and wait for guidance and direction rather than running headlong into a 50-car emotional pileup. I hear something within urging me to go in and assess where I've let my vision sink to by simply not paying attention to it. Heck, I know that's true because I'll be darn if I can even articulate precisely what it is even as I write this. Sounds like a good place to start then, doesn't it? With my vision.

Clearly I'm not going to find it stuck here in this corner, glaring into this computerized box, clicking through my "favorites" and "bookmarks" as if some website is going to miracelously give me the key to life. My life! Be real.

Enough!

El Culo de Bettie

I exaggerate the sound of you,
catch wind, fold arms,
thrust out both lips and hips.
They think you, not me,
callous, loose,
too weak to keep
faithfulness between us.
"Poor Bettie" whispers
pass through open windows,
fire escapes and rooftops,
"such a good girl scorned."
I laugh, exaggerate the sound
of my pain, fold hands
around my lips to hide
the smile that slips,
amused at who
is the true el culo.
©2005 Peggy Eldridge-Love