Hymn: My Mourning Praise

Although I get lost, lose my compass, and fall down

the skies they open up and rain tears all around

the unchallenged thoughts of sadness and despair

Fill my thoughts and eyes, around me like the air

When I can’t find purchase on the ground beneath my feet

and the easiest thing I can do is hang my head in defeat

The light at the end of the tunnel seems so far away

and the pain I feel inside leaves me in unworthy sway

I will turn to you for blessings, eternity unbound

I will bow my head in reverence your love for me abounds

I will hear your spirit remind me that someone really cares

I will heed your wisdom, my heart will be repaired

I will sing the song of unity, hands destitute of conceit

I will share my abundant comforting, my miseries retreat

I will flow with my divinity releasing my malaise

I will give to you the honor of my mourning praise

October, 2011: The Spider Dance

Every night for the past two weeks we’ve had a large garden spider build its web on our porch post. I’m not a particular fan of spiders, but this one was large enough to witness many events of its life. I watched as it caught bugs in its record album web. It pulled huge holes in its hard work to wrap up its latest victim.  If I blew on the web, it would raise up its front legs with the second set waving violently to protect its domain. I sort of “adopted” this spider because it carried on despite my fascination with it.

 Last night, however, there was an epic battle in the circle of life that I was fortunate enough to witness.

The web was built in the spiraling pattern with my “pet” sitting square in the middle. He had already enjoyed a tasty snack on a couple of larger bugs that landed and promptly became trapped. For most of the evening a smaller wolf spider kept trying to get up into the center only to be chased off by the larger garden spider that called my porch home.

The pushing of boundaries didn’t seem to be working for the wolf spider all that well. Whenever it would get close, the garden spider would drop down, hiss (if that’s what that noise was) and the smaller spider would back off by turning and spinning away smoothly on it’s own addition to the web. This repeated for a few hours. Test, guard, retreat, try again.

I wasn’t feeling well so I went out on the porch to sit in the noisy night. I noticed that the little wolf spider was still trying to take over the larger spider’s domain. This time, the tactic had changed. Instead of the wolf spider attempting to move in from the bottom of the web, it had climbed up the post and was trying a horizontal instead of vertical approach. Cautiously, the wolf spider crept farther and farther towards the center where the garden spider sat, seemingly unawares of the invasion.

The wolf spider rushed towards the center, but the garden spider, realizing his peril, pushed back the onslaught with wildly waving forefeet. The wolf spider turned and ran, but not to the edge of the web as he had been doing. He only retreated a few inches before turning to once again attack. As the wolf spider moved forward, the garden spider refused to retreat. He pushed forward and again drove the attack back.

When the two spiders did get close enough, the waving of the front four legs from both of them was truly amazing. I’d never seen spiders fight before, so I was quite fascinated. Waving madly, they both held their part of the web with violent tenacity. Neither one would allow any give. If the garden spider moved forward, the wolf spider’s legs would seemingly get stuck in the web. If the wolf spider moved forward, the garden spider raised up to its full height and punched viciously.

“Oh my God!” ripped from my lips when the wolf spider, without warning, leaped forward and had the garden spider wrapped tightly within its deadly embrace. It appeared to be stinging the garden spider with its rear end. The front legs of the garden spider were waving madly and not finding any purchase as it hung from a strand of its own web. The wolf spider relentlessly gripped the garden spider’s hind quarters. A shiny jelly-like substance oozed down the garden spider’s belly. The once frantic legs twitched slightly as the wolf spider ate. A few more twitches and my “pet” spider became the hunted and killed.

UPDATED THE NEXT DAY: Spider okay, turns out they were just mating rather violently. I feel dirty.

Happy 7th Anniversary, Ben Stotler

It’s Always Been You

This was taken on our wedding day November 3rd, 2007 (Ben's birthday too). We were wed at 129 Andy Fox Lane in Clinton, TN with a bonfire we lit together, falling leaves, and our loved ones surrounding us.

This was taken on our wedding day November 3rd, 2007 (Ben’s birthday too). We were wed at 129 Andy Fox Lane in Clinton, TN with a bonfire we lit together, falling leaves, and our loved ones surrounding us. Each year since, I’ve given my husband a poem to commemorate our love, grateful for another year to spend with my best friend. This year it’s a song but I don’t have the talent to write the music, so I post the lyrics. He’s the best husband I’ve ever had.

I looked for love

Each time that I thought I’d had it

I’d reach out my heart to nab it

But like smoke and mirrors

It disappeared

That went on for years

As I tried to hold and grab it…

Until you.

It’s always been you

Each time that I deeply breathe

As far as I can farthest see

You cherish my heart

Because it’s you…it’s always been you.

I needed love

Everywhere I went I sought your star

Man, I traveled ever so far

Always close but no cigar

I jumped the brooms and broke the jars

My heart rejecting the impo”stars”

Because of you.

It’s always been you.

Each time that I deeply breathe

As far as I can farthest see

You cherish my heart

Because it’s you…it’s always been you.

Each time that I’d take the chance

I’d find “Mr. No-Romance” or

“Mr. Look-what’s-in-my pants” or

“Mr. I-refuse-your-dance”

But it’s simple, don’t you see?

Rejecting them for the love of me

Because of you.

It’s always been you.

Each time that I deeply breathe

As far as I can farthest see

You cherish my heart

Because it’s you…it’s always been you.

I loved you anyway

I take a deep breath and realize that I’ve exhaled the negative people from my life by persistently being positive. I got accused of being draining, of taking too much time, of making them feel not good enough, of always being angry at them. Well here’s some thoughts for you, “sister:”

Draining is spending 6 hours listening to you lather rinse repeat 10 years worth of things you won’t change. Draining is trying again and again to show you the beauty that everyone else can see but yourself. Draining is lifting you up so you don’t drown in your self pity for 10 minutes. Draining is when we’ve beaten the dead horse to dusty bones that blow around like the floaties in a snow globe.

Taking too much time? To make sure you’re comfortable when you’re hurting, to make sure your needs are met, to come rescue you from another meltdown, to come meet you where you are/pick you up/believe you with tissues in hand, to listen to your troubles and offer solutions only to have every single one shot down because you really don’t want to change, you just want to complain?

If I “make” you feel like you’re not good enough, perhaps you need a new prescription for your shit colored glasses. It’s you who doesn’t think you’re good enough, not me. You repeatedly say that you’re not worth much, that you’re not important, that nobody loves you but like I’ve been saying for years and thankfully don’t have to any more, YOU ARE WORTHY! YOU ARE AS IMPORTANT AS YOU BELIEVE YOURSELF TO BE! YOU ARE LOVED BUT DON’T BELIEVE IT!

It’s not anger you’re feeling from me. It’s frustration that I’m exhibiting. Frustration that in the entire time I’ve known you, loved you, cherished you, cried with you, hugged you, laughed with you, shared with you, struggled with you, battled at your side, you called me a liar. You told me that I was wrong for believing in you. You made it very clear that everything I saw was nothing but shadows, slight of hand, and flash paper designed to distract me from your ugly interior that reeks of self-pity and self degradation. That every word I ever spoke encouraging you may as well have been a flaming bag of dog shit left on your porch.

Frustration from trying so hard to paint your gray with the colors I see and as fast as I could whip out my palette and liner brush you already had the roller of gray loaded and ready. Like gunslingers we’d sit facing each other with coffee cups loaded to full and the battle for your beauty would begin. I’d lose again and again, but I didn’t give up until you finally did. You surrendered to the gray and I had no choice but to walk away. I couldn’t take it, not for one more day.

If you’re going to point a finger accusing someone of despising you and taking away from your life, again, go into your bathroom and look in that reflective thing over the sink for a long time. That person standing there is why you can’t see yourself clearly. She is the one hiding your beauty. She is the one not believing in you. She is the one stopping you from being everything you’ve ever dreamed. Now, walk out of that room and until you can look her in the eye and say fuck you, my life my rules my way, don’t look back. Don’t ever look back.

The heated battle

I am currently in a heated argument with the Universe. I am being sent omen after omen telling me to trust who I am and my vision for the future. However, trusting that hasn’t paid my bills in the past, although I’ve never wanted for anything and my heart has been happy, my husband has made many sacrifices for me to do that. We can’t afford me to say the words the Universe wants to hear.

How can I trust that what is in my heart is right? How can I let go of the need to pay rent, put food on the table, have internet service, and maintain my lifestyle. I don’t own a lot of stuff (except weird hats and odd eclectic clothes), but I like what I have including the less than stellar accommodations’ location.

I hear the Universe pulsing in my veins like a driving song that makes the foot drop on the accelerator just a little too hard. I feel my heart get excited and feel “right” when I hear, “Thank you, Mare. I always feel better when I talk to you.” I take deepest joy and satisfaction in just hugging people until their pieces are glued enough for their hearts to feel better. I adore sharing laughter, good and bad jokes which makes me feel richer than any pocketbook could hold.

But the Universe begs me to hear. It is constantly prodding me. I hear it whisper over and over, “You don’t belong there. You’re too big for that room. You’re meant for greater things. You need to be out in the world. Go put on your cape and trust me.”

But my practical side says, “I can sacrifice my physical comfort for a paycheck so my husband doesn’t have to worry any more. I can give up a bit of time so that we can get back on our feet as the trail of my medical bills have left us a bit underground.”

“Heed me.” Begs the voice. “You’re missing every first event around because I put them on the weekends you “need” to work. I’m making sure you’re understanding what’s wrong with this picture. Are you getting my message?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean…I know, I get it, but I have things I really want to do and that takes…”

“Yes, but you’re not trusting me. You’re not hearing my words to you. You know, in your spirit, I’m speaking your truth but you doubt me. I’ve never let you down.”

“I’m going to do this. Right now. I’m setting my alarm so I can go back to my job tomorrow and earn my paycheck to ease my family’s burdens.”

“And I’m going to keep dropping boulders on you until you pay attention. This is not your destiny. Go do as I asked you to do.”

“Maybe after pay day. Right now, I’m saving up to pay off some medical bills, some personal loans, and looking for a safer place to live.”

If the Universe were a human, it would be rolling its eyes at me, wondering how obtuse of a human it created could actually be. “Omens, my dear one. Look for the omens that are right in front of your face. I don’t know how much more obvious I can make them. You don’t have to worry, just trust me.”

“Oh, I trust you,” as I push the buttons on my phone setting my alarm for 5:16AM. “I just don’t believe my bills will get paid and I’m not sure you understand how important that is to sentient beings like me.”

Another eyeroll. “When are you going to get it? Really? You’re not a sentient being. You’re a spirit in a meat suit. Your spirit is your destiny. Meet it. Be it. Belong to the realm of the Spirit Walkers.”

“You’re crazy!”

“You’re not crazy enough.”

Tribe of Artists: UNITE!

If you’re a writer, a poet, a painter, an artist of any kind, I’d like to help you succeed. I’d like to do a featured artist of the week which will allow you exposure to my fellow bloggers. If you’d like to be featured (aka pinned) then drop me an email with a link to your page(s). If selected, I will make sure that I cross reference your work on Pinterest, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and of course WordPress.

I believe strongly in supporting those with talent, drive, and ambition to bring their humanity into beautiful fruition. Although, and yes it pains me to say this, I can’t pay you anything, if we all share anyone’s art we really dig, we can spread even more beauty in the world. If you have a show coming up, let me know, I can post that too. I really want to help.

If you haven’t already done so, I encourage you to check out Activate Your Life! on Google + via the Anjana Network which is a group for artists of all sorts to find support and encouragement in their artistic field of choice. I am a moderator there and will happy to check out even more ways to help you promote your life’s work.

My email is the same as my page @gmail.com as well as at hotmail.com maremartell that is (Trying to confuse spambots may confuse you too but it’s my name with the appropriate suffixes). Let’s see what kind of an empire we can achieve when we lift one another up in love.

The Little Magician

This is me wearing my very stylish top hat. My stovepipe hat is taller and is one I wear with my super hero cape.

This is me wearing my very stylish top hat. My stovepipe hat is taller and is one I wear with my super hero cape.

When I start out in the morning of a day off, I’m never quite sure what I’ll end up wearing (other than my pj’s) at the end of the day. Today was no different. I started out in my black with pink pinstripe pants, a thin maroon waffle style long john shirt (long sleeve) with a brown shirt that has yellow letters declaring “I’m a Hugger” on the front with a picture of a bear. Around my neck I decided to wear my mini-harmonica necklace and my Chinese chime necklace so I’d have music all day long. Although I normally opt for a hat to wear, I instead bottomed off the outfit with some black and gray DC skater shoes that I got at the Salvation Army store for a quarter.

I showed up at the first event of the day which was an end of an era rummage sale reminiscent of the video game Skyrim’s Whiterun General Store proprietor, Belethor, who states with great creepiness, “Everything’s for sale! I’d sell my sister if I had one!” But seriously, they were selling everything. On the table I migrated to tidy and fix were all the Unitarian Universalist shirts left over from various events. They were nearly all children and youth sizes which I kept folding and arranging according to style. There were also some Halloween costumes which included a rather boring flapper’s dress, a sofa cover floral skirt, an adult’s clown costume with bells at the ankles and wrist but none on the hat, a child’s clown costume that looked as if it were as old as the church (1956), a stack of 10 sombreros (one of which was bright purple and traditional in decoration), a flattened witches hat, and a black graduation cap with the tassel that read 2006. SCORE!

I put on the cap and let the thick yellow tassel dangle around my face. It fit surprisingly well. After straightening a few other tables, I discovered a white beard (no mustache) with a working elastic string to hold it in place. On went the beard to add to my growing ensemble. I engaged people in conversations, helped them sort through the things we had left, moved 80 chairs to be moved from our soon to be absent church to the Ecumenical Storehouse (where the not so well off can get home furnishings (and those who lost homes to fires or the like) transport truck. I chatted it up with friends, rearranged merchandise and enjoyed the time. One of the ladies, an artist, Ms. Seely, found a pair of Harry Potter glasses which, surprisingly were wearable and didn’t give me a headache. I found a gold framed mirror to check my appearance and stared into the eyes of a professor wizard. It made me giggle.

I traveled from that event to the next wearing my new attire feeling incredibly lucky to be gifted with such oddities. When I arrived at the phone bank venue I was about to work, my friends didn’t recognize me until I spoke. That made my heart do flip-flops because these are people I work with on several important issues such as abortion rights and climate action. I removed the costume to demonstrate that I was ready to get down to business. Four pages of phone calls later, I was able to get the message out to about 35-40 Tennessee voters requesting their support if they didn’t already feel the same. When I left I felt accomplished as I redressed in my Professor’s costume. I drove home to collect my little dog and change attire.

When I go out to do public service, I like to wear my super hero cape that has the same Love Thy Neighbor logo on it as the shirt I shared yesterday. This one:

I wear the cape because I feel that when I’m doing community service (this time on behalf of Neighborhood Watch National Night Out), it is important to demonstrate in action, word, and mindfulness of others why you’re actually going there. I wear it as a reminder to myself that with great power comes great responsibility which I take, believe it or not, seriously. I don a top hat or a stovepipe hat in tribute to Honest Abe who is one of my favorite American heroes via his humanity. I feel strong and spiritually powerful when I wear the attire (plus, the cape was a birthday gift from a dear friend of mine named Max and was modified by another I adore Manderley). Yes, I would feel the same without the attire about myself and my actions, but it’s a physical manifestation for me, it harms nobody, brings delight and joy, and fills my spirit with even more loving feelings.

Because I was busy with volunteer work over the last couple of days, I haven’t been home to check social media very much. I missed the announcement that cancelled the dog costume parade. I was disappointed in that because Piggy was subjected to two coats of strawberry shampoo (I swear that stuff requires a spoon it smells so good) and a purple and pink striped sparkle collar with matching leash to show off her shiny blue coat. They weren’t going to let me in until I promised to hold Piggy and keep her away from the food booths. I complied.

I was just about to leave when a little girl in a pale blue dress, long blonde curls to her waist, and a pink balloon sword approached me with eyes wide.

“Do you do any magic tricks?” She asked me while swinging the sword around in the air.

“Well that’s a great question. Why wouldn’t I know a couple of magic tricks when I have an awesome hat like this?” I retort, more out loud than to her. I addressed her directly, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, I just like to wear top hats and super hero capes.” I felt really bad. Actually, that’s not accurate. I felt guilty. I rubbed Piggy behind the ears as if she were suddenly going to pull a rabbit out of my hat which she didn’t do.

“Well that’s okay.” She sighed with disappointment on her face for but a brief moment. “I can do a magic trick.” She declared.

“No kidding? What can you do?” As I looked down into her face, I saw her thinking rapid fire of a response.

She held up her balloon sword above her head. “I can turn this sword into a hat.”

“I don’t believe it. Will you show me?” She had me in the palm of her hand, the suspense was building in my guts as I wondered how in the world she’d pull off this impromptu show.

She wriggled the balloon sword around in her hands, trying to remember or trying to discover the secrets. With inspiration striking, she worked the “sword” tip into the handle and placed it on her head. “I now have a hat.” She declared with a grin.

If I wasn’t holding my little dog, I would have applauded. “That’s pretty impressive.” I chuckled, “I wouldn’t have thought of that.” I said as the balloon tip slipped out of the handle with a lightly audible pop sound. She grabbed the balloon sword and remade the hat, crowning herself once again.

“I can do another magic trick, you wanna see?” She asked taking the converted hat from her head.

“Sure. What else do you have in your bag of tricks.”

“I can turn this hat into an umbrella.” She twisted at the waist which made the hem of her dress flare out a bit. I glanced the crowd to see who else was watching but it seemed this was just a one woman show with an audience of two (Yes, I’m counting Piggy Suey).

“No kidding. Let’ see.” I watch fascinated as this seven-year old-ish girl starts pulling the balloon this way and that and ends up with a wad at one end which she proudly places over her head declaring it an umbrella. “Well I’ll be. That sure is an umbrella!”

“I told you I could do it.” She glowed with pride.

“You sure did. You’ve now taken a sword and transformed it into a hat. Then you took a hat and created an umbrella out of it. Do you know any other tricks?”

She paused, deep in thought. She tilted her head to the left listening to her guardian spirit that whispered giggling into her ear. The girl smiled with her new adult front teeth not at all looking out of place on her face. “Yes. I can make this umbrella into a flower.”

“No kidding? Wanna show me?” Piggy snorted with impatience as I stroked her neck near her shiny new collar. Piggy settled back into my arms and I was so intrigued with this little magician’s tricks I just HAD to see how the show concluded.

She nodded confidently and tugged at the wad until it was a looser wad but generally resembled a child’s drawing of a daisy.

“Hokey toot!” I declared with genuine appreciation. I listed off her accomplishments and as I stated each new creation she grinned widely nodding in agreement. “And here you came to me asking for magic when you already had it yourself!”

“I know!” She giggled. “I can do one more. I can make the sword sharp.”

I have no idea who this little girl was, but she was completely engaging. As I stood there in a room bustling with over 100 other people, I realized I was being given a far greater gift. I stayed for the finale. “Okay, let’s see how you do this.”

She pulled the balloon back into the shape of a sword and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she winked before she began to twist the tip of the “sword” into about a three inch ball. With a flourish that would make D’Artagnan proud, she thrust the sword forward, then slashed the sword with a backhand followed with one final riposte with the unsuspecting chair she’d attacked in earnest and her balloon popped.

She stood there with the pink former sword/hat/umbrella/flower/sharpened sword dangling dead in her hands. She looked more surprised than shocked or disappointed. She smiled at me. I smiled back.

“Thanks for the show. It was spectacular.” I tried to comfort her with my appreciation.

“I know it was.” She grinned, dropped the dead show on the ground and ran into the crowd.

I’m not sure, but I believe with all my heart, I created more magic by not knowing a magic trick than if I had been knowledgeable. I’m still grinning from ear to ear. I am indeed a blessed and lucky woman because I see the magic around me in every day people doing mundane things with such perfect humanity that it just makes my heart sing. Thank you little magic girl. May your magic always be in your hands.

Love Thy Neighbor: FOR SALE!

Just like on the back of my super hero cape, you can also own this design to wear with pride anywhere you travel. It’s love is demonstrated for all humans to be and love who they do. Part of the proceeds will go to The Crisis Center in Bristol, TN/VA as a way to give back for their contributions to loving thy neighbor enough to speak out.

Love Thy Neighbor

The Blue Screen of Life

I’m resting my face in the comfortable bluish white glow of my laptop

Staring at the screen as my friends parade by with a wild array of emotions.

I see a link one has posted and I click to see what interests them

The pictures move me to wellies, but that’s not the only reason I weep.

You see, I’m grateful in my heart and spirit for so many things

That I can’t contain the joy, the peace, the beauty that is my soul song.

The band of merry-makers parades down my cheeks in a wild array of emotions

Displaying colors and words of excitement, glee, hope, and cherished gratitude.

I can carry my banner with the honor to my mother and dad whom I love dearly.

I can tip my top hat in celebration of those beautiful souls that orbit their light

With belief that the Universe knows, heeds, and believes back.

I wipe the tears away but my heart is so full, I keep leaking happies and joy.

If you hold out your hand and take mine. If you trust yourself to believe,

I can entrust a part of me to you and you to me that together we’ll go far as can be

And then we’ll jump even farther, travel the world of possibilities, explore new lands

Oh the stories of love and adventure we’ll bring home from the farthest reaches.

Which will only encourage others to parade around with their own banners

Declaring openly their wide array of emotions all born from the nurturing love of an idea.

These Are My People: Jamie Lopez and JuJu

https://www.facebook.com/artistjamielopez/timeline Jamie Lopez is a prolific painter with a distinctive style and color palette. Her innovative exuberance melts happiness into every brush/pen stroke.

https://www.facebook.com/artistjamielopez/timeline
Jamie Lopez is a prolific painter with a distinctive style and color palette. Her innovative exuberance melts happiness into every brush/pen stroke. THIS ONE IS SOLD!

She lives in self-inflicted padded walls

Created with cotton balls,

Elmer’s glue, squished on fun

By her autistic son

She schools him on the finer points of life while

She’s splashing in the shallow end

Of the dating pool

Yelling,

“MARCO!” in the language of JuJu.

The responses are comical if not misplaced

By distorted males riding by on penny pony floaties

They shout “CABBAGE!” or “BOK CHOY!” or “PETUNIA!”

From the deep end where she already dipped her mug

Into the drunken pissy beer and found the taste repugnant.

She rejects the self-proclaimed wise men and gurus

Whom are no more effective than arm-chair quarterbacks.

Instead she paints herself a wisdom

Of spiraling owls and feminine curly tailed girls

That return prosperity in accordance to her schoolgirl happy.

When she looks at her beloved son, she realizes,

She is his Sherlock, he, her Watson.

Where she is prismatic and lively

He is repetitive and monochromatic

But they take out the crayons together one by one

Exploring every color of the world as a dynamic duo

Some days, when she’s a grounded bird and doesn’t want to fly

Juju nurtures her with yesterday’s worms and reminds her to seek the sky.