Tag Archives: getting one’s creative juices flowing

Contrary to what you might have thought . . .

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Fedoralady is still alive and (reasonably) well and definitely still an admirer of Mr. Armitage. I enjoy those little snippets we get of him now and again. Thank you, Michelle Forbes, “Berlin Station” co-star and apparent new fan of our amazing guy, for your lovely tweets and twitpics. They do help fans hungry for any morsels of Armitage.

As for me, I’ve had a few issues with writer’s block, a dodgy left shoulder and the usual money worries. There have been frequent bouts of melancholy, what with one actor/musician after another from my youth shuffling off their collective mortal coils. As the late, great southern writer Lewis Grizzard once more or less said, “Elvis is dead and I’m not feeling so good myself.”

Amen, Lewis. Amen.

We haven’t been hit with blizzards as in other parts of the country, but we’ve had some violent thunderstorms that kept me awake all night.  And enough cold, wet days this winter to make my cats alternately stir crazy/ extra clingy and me simply not want to get out of bed. Some days I haven’t. My eyes are doing strange things–too much time online, perhaps?–or maybe my baby cataracts have finally ripened. I flinch at the idea of what surgery will cost me, even with insurance. Those damned co-pays.

A friend’s husband was killed in a traffic accident ten days or so ago. Their daughter is in high school, playing on the girls’ basketball team. She had to miss a game, but was able to play in the game that won her team the regional trophy. My friend was there, eyes still puffy but a smile on her face, posing for a photo holding the trophy, surrounded by the girls.

Life goes on. Celebration and mourning, elation and grief can come fast on one another’s heels.

Our furry babies are growing and in my eyes, absolutely gorgeous. I forget just how much they’ve grown until I look at their older pix and see the difference. I delight in working on photo edits of them.

A prodigal son, a former feral we adopted after his elderly owner had to give him up before moving to assisted living, has returned. Billie Jeff disappeared after literally breaking out of our house and running away months ago. He’s a huge, beautiful boy, his clipped ear giving him a distinctly rakish look. He’s cautious around the other felines but very open to petting and being picked up and cuddled by the humans.
I think he got lonely. And tired of trying to cope on his own.

Billie Jeff, the prodigal who has returned to the fold.

Billie Jeff, the prodigal who has returned to the fold.

I guess we all need a place to call home.

Benny emailed me today to say another cat has appeared at the house, one who quickly headed for the old farmhouse when he saw my husband. That means we now have ten cats in the vicinity, only two of whom have been “fixed.”

I actually dreamed recently that someone had dumped a box full of puppies in our yard. I was alternately elated and completely dismayed. I love puppies and can’t imagine life without my Crick Bank Kitties. But any more mouths to feed . . . no. Just no.  No more room at this inn.

Now I am working on a retrospective video that will be shown at the Ritz each night before the 10th anniversary of our arts council’s musical fundraisers this April. It’s good to get those creative juices flowing again; I hope it helps jumpstart some other projects for me.  Still working on promoting my Crick Bank Kitty Collection at Spreadshirt; got another order on Wednesday. Every little bit helps.

 

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Spring’s coming; according to the groundhog, it will arrive early.

I remain hopeful. Stressed and a bit “beat down,” maybe. But hopeful. And there are images like this to help tide me over.  Thanks again, Michelle.

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Dreams, Richard Armitage and Y’all.

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I had two dreams recently. One a couple of nights ago, and the other, just this afternoon.  In the first, I was in some sort of auditorium, perhaps a theatre. Details are rather hazy. I was sitting right next to the aisle and I remember feeling very anxious and tense–antsy. I was anticipating something or someone, but I couldn’t tell you what it was.  I felt very–vulnerable.

And suddenly HE was near me, about to walk by me. I was suddenly very much aware of Richard Armitage‘s presence. I think I froze.

And then something rather miraculous happened. He stopped and he talked to me. He talked to me as if we were well acquainted, old friends.

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He leaned down and gave me a quick, warm hug with one arm. I remember touching his other arm.  He was smiling and there was genuine affection in those glorious blue eyes. I can’t tell you what he said or what I said, because I don’t recall–but I do remember how it made me feel. Encouraged. Uplifted. Happy. One of the best dreams I have had in ages.

The second dream: Details are even more hazy with this one than the first. But it must have been rather enjoyable because when I woke up, I was–coming. Yes, in *that* sense of the word.  I can’t tell you the last time I had an erotic dream, let alone one with such a stimulating result.

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(Oh, Thorin, wipe that sweet-yet- knowing smirk off your face. I can’t remember just who may have inspired this. Maybe you or another ChaRActer, maybe the CReAtor.  I just don’t know . . .)

So, what do these dreams mean, if anything, other than the superficial–that I’d love to meet Mr. A and have such a wonderful time of it and that there may be snow on the roof but still a bit of fire in the old furnace?

In my mind, the Richard in my first dream actually represents all of you. I’ve been so down, so stressed, so exhausted, my outlook bleak–and then, you, fellow RA fans, you came along and offered me so much support. Words of encouragement, virtual hugs, sound advice, offers of assistance from all over the world. And that means the world to me. And somehow, it really felt as if Richard himself was smiling at me, hugging me, laughing with me.  Reminding me I am accepted, loved, valued.  That no matter what happens, I have the blessing of true friends in my life.

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I am glad RA came into my life in large part because it brought all of YOU into my life.  Many thanks.

As for the second dream–since I took that little break, I think the various juices are starting to flow again.  Creative and otherwise.

I am planning to go on a photography expedition with Mary, owner of the local art gallery that is soon to open, my friend Stacey (art teacher on sabbatical, fantastic vocalist and budding photographer) and some others on Thursday. Looking so forward to visiting communities around and about, and spending time with creative people.  Ideas are dancing in my head again.  Thinking of entering some of my photos in the local fair competition this year.  And am pleased to report I should be selling some of my stills shot at our most recent PRP event, a lovely birthday celebration for a 96-year-old lady in my hometown.  I think we will also be getting great word-of-mouth advertising from this for the video production company  . . .

I am excited about my new blog, too. If you haven’t visited it yet, it’s at http://angieklong.wordpress.com : “Honeysuckle & Sweet Tea: Southern Reflections.” Here at TAE, I am planning to switch to Tuesdays for Thorin, keep Guyday on Fridays, and post one other day during the week. I plan to post twice a week at H&ST. Sometimes it may end up being twice a week here and three times there.  Other times, when there is more going on in Armitage World, I may post more frequently here. I am just trying to stay relaxed about it all. Keeping it fun is my motto. Not stressing out over things that just don’t deserve that kind of attention . . .

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