Entries from an old blog which I lost
Wednesday, 4 July 2007
overall winner
overall winner
Seems like the garden has won out on all the other activities. I have no time to write or paint and now Wandadoo has erased all my e-mails and my e-mail addresses. gardening keeps me sane whilst computering drives me mad. Is there a word to compute which does not mean doing sums?
Last week I visited three exhibitions/gardens. now my head is reeling with ideas for the garden and paintings and sculptures.
Last week I visited three exhibitions/gardens. now my head is reeling with ideas for the garden and paintings and sculptures.
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| I have added this painting simply to add interest |
identity
I have been experimenting with pseudonyms. Twice before in my life I changed my name.
The first time was when I was at college. At that time I hated my first name so I swopped to my middle name and shortened it. After college I reverted because I returned to my home town and everyone continued to call me by my original name.
When I started to write I hated both of my names so chose a new pseudonym completely.
I liked the name but when my mail arrived bearing this chosen name I didn't recognise myself.
I gradually let it drop.
Now in cyberspace I have experimented with so many names I forget them and the passwords which go with them. I thoroughly enjoy making up these alter egos but forget to record them.
Does this mean that I do not know who I am? Or just that I am trying to discover my real self?
Will I ever grow into my given name? Do I want to? will I find a self with whom I am comfortable?
The first time was when I was at college. At that time I hated my first name so I swopped to my middle name and shortened it. After college I reverted because I returned to my home town and everyone continued to call me by my original name.
When I started to write I hated both of my names so chose a new pseudonym completely.
I liked the name but when my mail arrived bearing this chosen name I didn't recognise myself.
I gradually let it drop.
Now in cyberspace I have experimented with so many names I forget them and the passwords which go with them. I thoroughly enjoy making up these alter egos but forget to record them.
Does this mean that I do not know who I am? Or just that I am trying to discover my real self?
Will I ever grow into my given name? Do I want to? will I find a self with whom I am comfortable?
I now have 3 blogs. My first one http:/wildwomenwrite.blogspot.com which I can no longer log into for some reason. Then I set up this one and thought I was going well when I forgot the password. Next I set up yet a third just to yell into cyber space about google. Low and behold I found a note on the wall of my office with name and password for this blog.
so now i am convinced of my downward fall into madness. But I still blame it on computers in general - Wanadoo, Microsoft and Google in particular.
Will I ever get to writing about my life here and thoughts and feelings? Not to mention my novel. And what about all the paintings that are floating about in my head? I have to live to be 200 to get it all done? Did I mention the garden? No? Now see the grass is growing even as I type this and the weeds of course. When will I get around to the water feature I started to create and the found-wood sculpture area. The stone circle remains an idea in my head.
Perhaps it is not cyberspace that is driving me insane. Perhaps it is head space or more precisely lack of head space.
so now i am convinced of my downward fall into madness. But I still blame it on computers in general - Wanadoo, Microsoft and Google in particular.
Will I ever get to writing about my life here and thoughts and feelings? Not to mention my novel. And what about all the paintings that are floating about in my head? I have to live to be 200 to get it all done? Did I mention the garden? No? Now see the grass is growing even as I type this and the weeds of course. When will I get around to the water feature I started to create and the found-wood sculpture area. The stone circle remains an idea in my head.
Perhaps it is not cyberspace that is driving me insane. Perhaps it is head space or more precisely lack of head space.
I feel like the White Rabbit. I am always in a hurry and no matter how many jobs I do there are always more at the end of the day than at the beginning. I should consider myself lucky that I am never bored. I am just greedy for time which is silly because we all have the same number of hours in a day and it remains constant. So I'm off to do job no. five on the list in my head which has ---let me see-- 100, a 1,000, no more like an infinite number on it. Still as my friend Pat used to say when you finish them all you die. Guess I'm going to live forever then!!!!!!!!!
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| Just to show that the work in the garden has produced rewards |
The following is an exercise from Vanda Inman's website.
Are any of us really free? What is freedom? What do we mean when we talk about freedom? Do we mean freedom from hunger or violence or poverty or work or worry or even ----
Years ago I escaped from a violent marriage and I worked for years to free myself from poverty in old age. Now the question is what do I do with this so called freedom?
I even have time to choose how to spend my time each day. But am I happy? What do you think?
I agonise about my comfort. I look at the rest of the war-torn world and feel guilty. Then I agonise about what I can do about it. Do I send money to good causes, do I offer to help in a charity shop, do I offer my services as a volunteer in an old peoples home, am I too old for voluntary work overseas? Haven't I earned a peaceful retirement? Too many questions and no answers.
Then reality strikes and my past catches up with me. I get a phone call from the adoption organisation who have news of my son who was adopted 30 years ago. They tell me the good news first. They have found his parents (adoptive that is). Now sit down for the bad news.
He died 11 years ago. he died from AIDS and yes he was gay.
Well what are you going to do when you have stopped crying? The media tells us that the evidence coming from Africa is that it is getting worse and people are dieing for lack of drugs. Babies are being left without parents. Thousands of babies are being left with no-one to care for them. So here is your answer. Make a decision and do something about it. But what can I do?
One person and we talk about Africa as if it is a tiny country. It's not a country. It is an enormous continent of fifty one countries. Where on earth do I begin?
You can begin by collecting information from charities and organisations already in the field. Then perhaps you will find some one who perhaps can advise you.
Are any of us really free? What is freedom? What do we mean when we talk about freedom? Do we mean freedom from hunger or violence or poverty or work or worry or even ----
Years ago I escaped from a violent marriage and I worked for years to free myself from poverty in old age. Now the question is what do I do with this so called freedom?
I even have time to choose how to spend my time each day. But am I happy? What do you think?
I agonise about my comfort. I look at the rest of the war-torn world and feel guilty. Then I agonise about what I can do about it. Do I send money to good causes, do I offer to help in a charity shop, do I offer my services as a volunteer in an old peoples home, am I too old for voluntary work overseas? Haven't I earned a peaceful retirement? Too many questions and no answers.
Then reality strikes and my past catches up with me. I get a phone call from the adoption organisation who have news of my son who was adopted 30 years ago. They tell me the good news first. They have found his parents (adoptive that is). Now sit down for the bad news.
He died 11 years ago. he died from AIDS and yes he was gay.
Well what are you going to do when you have stopped crying? The media tells us that the evidence coming from Africa is that it is getting worse and people are dieing for lack of drugs. Babies are being left without parents. Thousands of babies are being left with no-one to care for them. So here is your answer. Make a decision and do something about it. But what can I do?
One person and we talk about Africa as if it is a tiny country. It's not a country. It is an enormous continent of fifty one countries. Where on earth do I begin?
You can begin by collecting information from charities and organisations already in the field. Then perhaps you will find some one who perhaps can advise you.
Added May 5th 2012 - There are more than 52 countries in Africa
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