My Inner Self & All The Others, Too
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What you will find here are some of my old blog posts from the original blog,
My Inner Self & All The Others, Too.
I brought some of that stuff over here as it is near and dear to my heart. Or some it is just plain funny.
Dig around.
See what you find.
Have fun.
The old stuff. The HEART stuff.
The old stuff. The HEART stuff.
My Daughter
My Daughter
Songwriter, singer, poet.
She asked me to take her senior pictures. I asked her what she wanted them to say about her. She didn't know exactly but she knew she wanted her guitar in them.
We went to a local park and in all it's beauty, even in this dismal early spring, we could not convey what she wanted to say. We captured awesome shots, submerged in the pines, with sunlight trickling through onto her porcelain skin, reflecting in her crystal blue eyes, but none said, "this is me!"
We had the mighty Mississippi as a breathtaking backdrop, us perched high enough to be the eagles themselves, soaring out into the never-ending blue sky. Still, not enough.
Her guitar as her sidekick, laughing, posing, smiling, serious, she tried hard to tell me what she wanted. I changed lenses, softened shots, widened them, and took close-ups; I tried it all.
We left the park and headed to lunch; perhaps she could talk me through it and in some part of conversation with her, I could understand. I had asked her what her music made her feel like. She didn't have a word for it. I told her, for me, it symbolized life and I told her death was part of life and asked her if she thought it would be morbid to take some of her in the cemetery. She was okay with it. On the way there, we passed the cemetery her grandfather is laid to rest. He, too, was a singer and a guitar player. I went there.
This is a shot we got. She loved it. This is what she feels like when she sings. She sings for every person in her life, past or present.
She sang for him while we were there. She sounded better than ever. We are going back today. She wants close-ups.
This says,
"This is my daughter; song writer, singer, poet."
~Kimberly
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Tribute to a friend
There is one thing that a woman loves; a man who knows who he is, a man who isn't afraid of who he is and a man who tells her what he wants her to know. This kind of man would never grow old!
I know this man. And he is brilliant in his mind. He recalls poems from his past as if reading them right from a book in front of him, but there is no book. These verses in his mind are about trees and sunsets, waves and brooks. Great loves of late and sad losses of love. They are rich in detail and sweet with sentiment. His voice is gruff but his words are soft. He doesn't care who hears him speak of things so beautiful or sweet; loving or free. He doesn't care if it makes him appear less of a man or not tough enough.
Tonight, he sat with me. We spoke of love and poetry. He smiled when I spoke to him and his eyes had a glimmer, a sparkle that, so often, we miss in men. He put his arm around me and told me he loved the way I loved him. He looked into my eyes and told me he would love to spend the evening with me.
And I smiled. I couldn't help but smile. He then laughed softly and said "you are so very pretty. Why are you so pretty?" I had no answer, but before I could speak, he simply asked me to take him home. I honored that request and pushed his wheelchair through the nursing home halls to the room that he called "home".
His room is small and almost barren compared to the life he has lived. He has had a life full of wonder and amazement. Being a small town girl from Iowa, his life has been far more amazing than I could ever imagine. But, in a few short sentences, he made me feel more amazing than if I were born royalty.
To him, I am not complicated or confusing. And if I am, he simply looked beyond that and told me what he wanted me to know. He knows who is, he isn't afraid of who he is and in December...he will turn 100.
Suddenly, that no longer seems old to me!
This was written last year for a dear friend of mine. He did in fact turn 100 years old that December and told us all he didn't feel 100. He found it hard to believe. Sadly, shortly after that, he quietly passed away as he slept. I will never forget my friend. And he was right, I really did love him.
A New Year's Resolution
**READ THE NEXT POST FIRST PLEASE.**
A New Year's Resolution
**READ THE NEXT POST FIRST PLEASE.**
- November 30, 2011
Things to Accomplish in 2012
Most lists I have seen have 100. However, due to a severe and chronic case of procrastination, I will start with 10. These are in no particular order...
-- Go on a Real Date.
(*Note: Going to the corner bar, the drive-thru at McDonalds or running to Kmart is NOT a date!)
--Organize the House
(this could take most of 2012 and should not be taken lightly or seriously...a 2-1/2- year-old lives here with her 18-year-old father!)
--Stop Smoking
(YEAH....there is the humor!)
--Lose Weight
(this would be weight gained by trying/accomplishing the above goal! Thinking ahead here!)
--Write More
(Write in this blog, expand on novel #2, finish a couple short stories, catch up on letters to family/friends, emails, notes to the kids, and write and send a letter to Santa to thank him!)
--Smile More at the People I Meet.
After all, I paid a lot of money for these teeth.
May as well show 'em off!
--Regain Princess Status...
Can be done with a pair fancy shoes, a shiny diamond necklace, and a new sparkly dress!
Or, according to my granddaughter, I can marry a Prince.
I'll take the shoes!
--Redecorate My Kitchen
Can you say fire engine red microwave?
--Take Myself on a Date.
(*Note: Going to the corner bar, the drive-thru at McDonalds or running to Kmart IS a date!)
--Sleep Sounder, Dream Bigger, Live Fuller, Eat Better, Love Unconditionally, and Always, and I mean ALWAYS, Have an Alibi!
--Write.
--File. Select all. Post
--Write.
--Repeat.
Until Next Time,
Kimberly
2021 Update: I am still working on some of these...LMAO!!
Where's My Creative Flow
Where's My Creative Flow
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Where's My Creative Flow?
Write.
File. Select all. Delete.
Write.
Repeat.
What is wrong with my creative flow? Where are my words of wisdom? Humor? New thought provoking posts are empty pages or lonely drafts, unseen by others and taunting to me.
There was one about my Princess status being revoked, complete with my utter dismay, chronological analyzation, and a major bashing of all known "Princes". (Respect given to my male followers. Put that one on the "Save for Later" list.)
The one about my job and the amount of testosterone I am amid daily, comparing it to marriage, due to my need for medication and the desire to throw heavy objects, was completely deleted as it was somewhat incriminating and, while, hysterically funny, not a good idea-I still work there!
And the one about my sister and her recent dealing with marital abandonment and complete disrespect by her husband of 22 years, my dumb-ass brother in law, What's His Face, is being saved and turned into a private, personal email that I will send when the time is right.
So, what's left?
Well, there is Christmas and the Santa debate. You know the one where people don't believe. I mean, come on. That notion that the parents do the gifts and eat the cookies. That can't be right.
My parents would NOT come into my house in the middle of the night, leave presents under the tree and eat the cookies. They just wouldn't DO that.
Besides, we go to their house and exchange gifts. They don't need to do it in secret.
So, that idea just doesn't hold water. So, that post didn't either. It's an open and shut case! Santa is real!
So, that leaves the stand by post for end of year creative drought....
THINGS TO DO IN 2012! ( I know, how original, right?)
Now you can go back and read...
March 11, 2010
UPDATE: Here she is 10 years later. All grown up and making waves in Florida. She still has her guitar and continues to make music.
Better than ever!!
She decided the other day to go back to more of a brunette look so I had to update her picture.