chronicled & illustrated

In January, I did an article for The PCQ on Beth Felice who, as Annie Octavia, owns and operates a beautiful art gallery on Second Life called Gallerie Octaviana. In order to see for myself what it was about (she’s been kind enough to include some of my work in two of her shows), I made myself an alter-ego and made my first forays into this virtual world.

My name is Aplomb Pomilio. The name was chosen with tongue firmly in cheeque. I like the word, I like the concept and it’s something that I often do not have in abundance. I’m finding out that in learning how to navigate in a new world, aplomb is scarce. I find that I’m insecure about what to do, who to talk to, where to go. In fact, it’s like every experience I’ve ever had moving to a new place.

Odd, that.

This isn’t “real” and yet, my self, my mind makes it feel very real even unto bringing along very real emotions as I try to find my way in a new *place* among strangers. And this “realness” goes farther. I could have made myself anything I wanted and yet I’m pretty normal looking though young and with a great figure (I’m not foolish enough to pass up a chance at those two things!)

I want to write about this more as I’m finding the experience puzzling, eye-opening and more than anything else revelatory. I’m just not sure yet what it’s revealing!

One thing is sure: I’m absolutely loving the opportunity to play dress-up! As a child, my sister and I played paper dolls. We loved exploring fashion styles and opportunities that we would never get to experience for real. Being in Second Life has taken me back to that childhood delight but with such HUGE differences that it can hardly be over-stated. I have a gorgeous *me* with a great figure. A me that moves, walks, flies (badly), sits (sometimes in the middle of walls and objects), talks and as such, I can dress me up in hundreds of combinations of clothes and accessories—at this point, all for free. I haven’t spent a dime and I’m having so much fun.

My favourite so far: a Purple and Silver outfit. The overskirt is animated, it swirls as I move. The knee-high boots are purple with white designs—FABULOUS!

These days instead of playing a morning computer game or other “getting ready” activity before I settle into real work, I go to Second Life and decide what I’m going to wear for the day. Today, for the first time, I tried out an edgy look (for me and Aplomb, that is).

I also have some normal jeans, sandals and t’s outfits but even those are a lot more fun than what’s in my real closet!

This morning as I was getting dressed for real, I took a little extra care because…well, because if I’m going to take such care in a world that’s not real, I should at least make a little effort where it is.

More soon on groups I’m joining and what that’s like.

Time for Sarcastic Mom’s Weekly Winners again. Where’d the week go? This we we had Valentine’s Day and very cold weather so the photos reflect those things (I barely went out of the house). Plus a portrait of one of the dogs.

Catching Flakes
focused on the snowflakes, not the trees!

Yellow Rose of Nova Scotia

Frosty Landscape

Wintree

Winter’s Edge

Summer in winter

Look for more great Weekly Winner photos from this week here.

liquid
Originally uploaded by nuanc

Today I seem to be swimming freely in my life once again.

For a few weeks, I got stuck. I felt completely bogged down. Any kind of effort toward unsticking myself was a tiresome slog that left me only wanting to retreat back into my rutted state.

This wasn’t that noticeable to others because I still went about my daily life…I just wasn’t as productive. As I’ve written about before, I spent long hours mastering a certain computer game that shall remain unidentified lest someone else fall under it’s marblicious spell.

I continued doing what I could to get away from the rut that included only Me and The Game. Eventually, I began to tell people—my husband, my sons, my trusty girlfriends, and my mom—that I wasn’t really doing that well. I felt at the time that this ‘coming out’ was part of the process of recovery. That if I hadn’t been on the road to recovery, I wouldn’t have been able to admit it.

Today, I woke up feeling that my hated rut had been washed away by a good strong soaking. I can still sense the route that it wore through my brain, but it no longer has depth.

This has happened before of course. I think though that as I get older (pushin’ 60, girl) I have the mental calm, perspective and actual quiet in my life to be able to analyze what this feels like and what’s physically happening to me when I overtakes me. In earlier days, I was too busy with kids and had too many insecurities to look at it without fear clouding my view. Now I can imagine and actually feel (or feel that I’m feeling) a neurological rut—an overused, perhaps over-stimulated linkage of neurons; one that becomes prominent and doesn’t give up dominance easily.

It helps me understand—in an organic way—what people who have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder go through every day. And, it comes up very close to Depression—something I used to suffer from for months at a time. In Depression, certain thoughts or categories of thought (negativity! worthlessness! hopelessness!) become dominant. It’s changing those thought patterns that pull us up out of the mood (to be utterly overly-simplistic).

I don’t understand any of it well enough to predict its coming or its going, but I do have confidence these days that it won’t stick; that somehow I’ve accumulated enough coping strategies to be able to pull out of these neurological quagmires. But I have to be careful with that line of thinking. Maybe it’s never what I DO that pulls me out of it. Saying that implies that anyone can pull themselves out by sheer “coping strategies” and I don’t believe that. I know that if it were that simple, people wouldn’t suffer from it so painfully and so persistently. But on the other hand, that sense that I am doing things that help to get me over the distress is important to my feeling of control over my life. Always important.

This morning, I feel a fresh fluidity in my mind, I’m able to glide freely through the little pond that is my life, and for that I am supremely grateful.

The illustration was taken in Houston over the Christmas holidays at the home of The Newmans who graciously let us use their amazing house in exchange for looking after their greyhound. The koi pond was a practicing photographer’s dream.

I’m ba-ack…

Look for more great Weekly Winner photos from this week here.

I’m late getting them up and have a lot to catch up on, but it’s good to be posting photos again. Hi everyone!

Some of you would like my new(ish) ning network
Being Practically Creative. Please check it out!

Yesterday I wrote about being drawn off-task by the newest shiny thing. Well, here it is: animoto. They’ll make slick videos of your photographs…pretty much effortlessly.

Yes, I paid them money. No, you don’t have to, but yes, they make it seem like something you reallllly need to do. Hey. I was vulnerable. I needed something shiny.

Anyway, here’s one version of my first video. The photos are of my granddaughter, Cadi. She was playing in a fountain in the park. Nearby were anti-war protesters who have come out to the park in Bar Harbor, Maine each Sunday since the invasion of Iraq and stood in silent protest. I do not know the priest’s full name but his colleague told me he’s Father Jim and is retired. He couldn’t resist playing with Cadi and she, as you will see, took to him immediately. I’m so grateful I was there not only to see the spontaneous joy of their sharing but also to capture some of it with my camera.

Enjoy Acadia and the Priest, perfect strangers sharing a perfect moment.

Thanks to Beth Felice who first posted an animoto video on Being Practically Creative and to Suze Corte who showed me how to play with them!

window
Originally uploaded by nuanc

I love this little blog. I started it in full expectation of NOT posting often enough and then I did pretty well with it.

I am not a consistent person. Moodiness is so much a part of my genetic make-up that I am always astounded to learn that some people aren’t controlled by their mood-of-the-day. I’m drawn off task by not only moods, but also by the newest shiniest activity that catches my interest. And yet, I almost always return to what I love. And this blog, I love.

It feels like me, she said, shyly.

Fertile, then fallow, quiet without being private or secretive, heart-felt and earnest but with tongue-in-cheek.

Inconsistent. Also ambiguous. Moody.

January was a real up and (mostly) downer. I started an overly ambitious writing project that didn’t last more than two days. That led to a slump which caused me to seek solace in mind-numbing computer games, an obsession from which I haven’t fully recovered. There were other things. Emotional snowfalls began piling on, adding layer after layer of weight. Because it wasn’t a blizzard but a steadily growing accumulation of tiny things, I was unaware of what was happening.

I’m on the mend. Writing this is part of my recovery. I love this blog. I must do it more often and then I will remember other things that I love doing and I will rediscover the path to feeling that. Then, I’m sure, I will also get excited about the next new shiny thing that catches my interest. I can do both when I’m occupying the busy part of my life.

The illustration is of winter taken through the old stained glass panels in the stairwell of our house. Part of it I can see through and part I can’t and that is Like Life.

Hugs all ’round.