Erika Jones's blog

Soon, there will be more....

But for tonight - there is this. 

I am at an exhausted place - but thankful all the same.  My uncle is in the intensive care unit of a Wisconsin hospital right now, and I went up there with my family tonight to visit him.  He was awake and joking and stable, all good things for today. 

After the visit, we drove up the road to a restaurant suggested by the hospital receptionist. It was a small town Wisconsin kind of place - rough walled and wood paneled, tucked inside an old train depot and covered with posters for things like Lionel Trains and Dad's Root Beer. 

We had fun with our animated waiter Josh, sampled food off of each other's plates, talked about heavy stuff, and laughed about the light stuff.  I'm pretty sure I cried at one point....and then laughed so hard that the tears became different.

Afterwards, we strolled down Main Street and peered in the windows of antique shops, ice cream parlors and cafes.  All of it felt a lifetime away from my early morning - I hadn't known when I stepped on my train into Chicago that my evening sunset would be spent here, in this place.    Despite the unevenness, I feel whole, alive, and loved.  I am lucky.

awww man.

Wow - what is the saying, "We teach what we most need to learn???"  Uhhhhhhhh yeah.  I am FINALLY starting to see the light on some things, and am beginning to take just a little bit of my own advice.  It's freaking exhilirating quite frankly - and feels just a little bit exotic (yet familiar and cozy, all at the same time.....) 

Yeah, I know I'm being vague, but you'll understand my hesitation in sharing the details soon enough.  For now, I'm going to focus on reveling in the incubation phase and do my damndest not to lose sight of the tendrils that so desperately want to grow up. 

Fuck yeah!

 

 

Race against the clock...

My laptop battery is gone daddy gone....(I love it when the icon shows that big red x....it just seems so sinister....)  How much can I write here, sans editing?  We'll just have to wait and see.....

It's been a medium sort of day.  I'm off from the day job in the city tomorrow - I have lots to get done, but will also take the time to take some time.  I'm really a meandering kind of girl, and if I don't get that in, there will be hell to pay in the form of crankiness and too much of something or other.....(ice cream?  Tequila?)

My windows are open and the fireflies are out. 

Time's up.

Hi.

It's me.  Yes - the one over here with the laptop............not quite knowing what to say tonight to this big blank square.  Ah good.  There's some stuff in that blankness now..........that helps.  Maybe this one's just going to be stream of conciousness,  Sure.  That works.  I'm hot.  The air conditioner is off 'cause I want to save a few bucks.  Is the saving of bucks worth the sweat?  I'm not so sure. Cinder is here on the bed with me and he's rubbing his face on my laptop the way that cats do.  I'm sad because he's dying.  I'm sad because up until this weekend he's been hangin' in and fighting the good fight.  I think he's running out of fight and I'm starting to grieve.  He's been best friend, soulmate, furry listener and avid guarder of sleep for the past eight years.  He's the remaining figure of my former married life.....  and when he's gone there will be nothing else.  And that is well and good - there is no reason for any connection anymore.  The papers have long been filed and are maybe even a little bit dusty now. 

I sensed my future life this weekend.  It came in a burst of breeze on a Sunday night walk and almost made me laugh out loud.  I am so different from the woman who stood at an altar nine years ago.  The sweet relief washes over me from time to time......usually when I'm holding Cinder close to me and breathing in the fur along his neck.  He lets me do this patiently....holding still and tucking his head into the crook of my arm.   I will miss this more than I can bear to think about.

 

Grateful.

I am trying to do some things differently.  Changing patterns.....giving some things up, taking some new things on.   I am focusing on gratitude.  I am writing my Morning Pages (yes - that means I am giving "The Artist's Way" one more shot.......)  I sped through Julia Cameron's  400 page memoir, "Floor Sample" in two days, so I think she has a message I am needing to hear.  

These new habits are helping.  The low level anxiety that normally sits on the edge of my consciousness is making way for a softer sense of peace.  I left the TV off tonight and chose a book to keep me company instead.  I made my favorite salad (baby greens with shredded carrots, green onions, roasted walnuts, grape tomatoes, havarti cheese and sesame dressing), poured a glass of white wine, took myself into the garden and read into twilight.   It was delicious.

I am grateful for this time.  I am grateful that I am going to Europe again. I am grateful for my impetuous mother who says we will 'play it by ear'. I am grateful that my sweet Cinder is still with me (seven months after the vet said he may only have a week....)  I am grateful for my friends who are strong and independent and clear voiced.  I am grateful for my crazy, imperfect day job that allows me to visit places I wouldn't normally go.  I am grateful for the silence.  I am grateful for the beginning of understanding.

 

Thinking..........

I've been away from the page for a while.... for a couple of reasons really.  Those of you that know me in real life - (only a sprinkling of you, as I keep this URL pretty close to the vest...) You are here because you are safe.  You are my real friends in my real life.  Julia Cameron writes that when one is practicing how to write, it's best to only share pieces with people who are supportive and encouraging, and I prescribe to that notion in a very big way.  My space here feels oh so delicate.....which explains a bit about my recent reticence. There's a chance that this address may have found its way to someone who is not necessarily in my safe zone.  So, I'm trying to figure out what to do here. 

A real writer wouldn't care.  But who defines what a real writer is?  In my head, it's someone who can confidently say what they need to without fear of repurcussions, reprisal, or any other 'R' word.  My mother tells me I spend a fair amount of time in my life 'considering' and she's absolutely right.  I like to call it thoughtfulness, but I'm not sure thoughtfulness is as tiring as considering is.  "If I do or say X, then I'll protect myself from Y".....  I pretend sometimes that I'm a balls to the wall kind of girl.  And yes, I can be.  (See - I just said 'balls'.) 

I also don't like the fact that unless you're part of this particular online community, you don't get to post comments.  Grrrrrr.  So, for the two reasons above, I'm considering moving this little 'ole blog to a different subdivision.  This new neighborhood would require a bit more work, a bit more upkeep (more lawn to mow......more windows to clean.....) but on the whole I think it'd be a pretty good investment. And if I really want to do this, I think I want to do it right.  Might be time to turn off the damn TV for good. 

Touch

...is something that Facebook can't give us. We are all hiding behind our screens....psuedo connecting with each other as we 'SuperPoke' our hearts out.  But where is the real touch? 

I ran some errands this weekend and stopped in at World Market for a treat.  I love that store and can easily get lost among the shelves. (And is it just me or does it always smell like a fabulous combination of cedar sawdust and spicy perfume?  Mmmmmmm..........who doesn't like that??) 

As I was walking around the corner to get a better look at a candle display, a male employee came up behind me to move a box out of the way.  As he walked away, he mentioned he liked my green coat "What a great Spring jacket!" he said, and placed his hand on my back as he moved from me.  It was a kind gesture - one of connection, not of invasiveness.  He wasn't trying to pick me up, he wasn't flirting, he was simply reaching out.  And for just a moment,  it rendered me speechless.  What a nice surprise.

 

Notes on a Day

Those of you familiar with Time Out's "Heard on the Street" feature may appreciate the below....

Each sentence is an actual phrase I received in Tuesday's batch of work e-mail.  Enjoy!

• "Cripes almighty"
• "I don't have time to do a fishing expedition"  (This one garnered the sender some nice face to face feedback!)
• "Question One - what time is your hair appointment, and Question Two - how do we make up our minds about whether we want to fly to Geneva or train to the Cotswolds?"
• "Jeff is a gun wielding member of the NRA"
• "Jeff is scared of cattle"
• "Doing this may be especially applicable to anyone who might be disappearing to the far side of the world to visit the Dalai Lama"

I love my job!

Texture

It's late and I should be in bed, but I'd rather play here......grrrr.  My body clock is not made for the office world.  I absolutely adore sleeping in, and once I'm up in the morning, it takes me a good hour before my eyes actually open - on the weekend I need copious amounts of French Roast coffee and Food Network TV to help me make the transition back into the universe.  So it would only make sense that I start hitting my stride at about 10pm.  Doesn't quite work when the alarm goes off at 5:50am (which is really 5:40, since I try to trick myself by setting the clock ahead - don't we all do this fruitless thing?  That just makes it easier to hit the snooze button seventeen more times, because really it's not THAT late!)

I'm really digging the Spring weather and my morning walk from the train to the office (about 30 minutes....) My favorite part of the walk is crossing under the train tracks, then going over the river....listening to the rattle of the el in the background and watching the brown line criscross with the green.  It's absolutely cinematic.  My favorite part to play in life is always the observer - and this walk is chock full of textures, sounds, characters.  So much to take in - made all the better by some new kickass songs on the iPod.  My favorite new addition is "Edge of Forever" by The Dream Academy.  Those of you in love with Ferris Bueller will know exactly which song I mean......it's perfect listening against the backdrop of the city.  Sigh. 

El Prado de las Estrellas

I was lucky enough to be invited to the opening night of the 24th Annual Latino Film Festival this past Friday.  The film of the evening was entitled, "El Prado de las Estrellas" (The Field of Stars) and centered on a small group of characters in Cantabria (Northern Spain) whose lives are connected in small but meaningful ways.  The film develops slowly, and allows us to meet each character quietly.....realizing their hopes, learning their histories, and watching their paths gradually come together. 

This film was not glamorous - but it was beautiful.  It was not large, but it was intimate. It reminded me why I fell in love with cinema studies as a major back in college - it's a sensual place.    I remember idolizing the films of Truffaut, Godard, Chabrol....listening to the click of their character's cigarette lighters and wanting to taste the coffee drunk from tiny china cups in noisy cafes.   Sitting in the university library with headphones on at ten o'clock on a Thursday night, I'd get lost in the long, drawn out exchanges of dialogue, then run back to my dorm room and scribble papers using words like "ideology" and "rhetoric". 

As with any kind of festival screening, this past weekend's audience was filled with lots of Very Important People.  I listened as several of them became uncomfortable about halfway through the film.  Legs crossed and uncrossed.  People walked into the hallway to check cell phones.  As an American audience we are unaccustomed to this pace - and unfamiliar with the patience required to let things unfold. 

I enjoyed the unanswered questions at the end of this film and I'm glad the ending was surprising and un-pretty.  Isn't that the way life is?