A Very Green Visitor Crashed Our Card Game Last Night

So, as I've mentioned, Seth and I have been eating most of our dinners outside since just before Midsommar or so, as we were unexpectedly blessed with wonderful moderate weather this summer. Then after we eat, we like to sit and play cards for a while before going back inside to finish our workdays. Of course, it's been getting darker earlier and earlier, but the temperatures are still really moderate -- not even jacket weather yet -- so we've just been turning on the outside light over our table and carrying on as usual. (For now, anyway. Now that it's past the equinox, I'm sure it will be getting colder soon enough.)

Last night, we had this little visitor. At first, it tried to land on the back of my neck, and I freaked out because I didn't know what it was. It just felt big, heavy, flappy, and cold, so I figured it was a moth or something. Then it came back and landed on the wall next to us where we could see it better. We tried to shoo him away into the bushes (where I assume he belongs), but he kept coming back and insisting on perching nearby somewhere for the remainder of our card game. 

I could see it was a grasshopper of some kind, but I wanted to know what kind and Google suggests it's probably a katydid, especially considering it was nighttime. And since I'm also kind of a woo-woo witchy type, you know I wanted to know the spirit animal meaning. It's apparently growth, transformation, forward progress, and spiritual awareness. Grasshoppers of any kind -- especially any that are as brilliantly green as this one was -- are also supposed to be lucky and suggestive of prosperity. (Thanks, I'll take it. Especially the prosperity part.) 

Of Eclipses, Loss, and Transformation

This month has been a tad rough, spiritually speaking. We've got this massive blood moon lunar eclipse coming up in a couple of days here on the 27th and it's had me feeling some kind of way. I've definitely been having one of those months where staying upbeat and excited about life in general seems a bit harder than usual. The same sticking points and problems I always have in my life have seemed more daunting somehow and the things that normally make it better have been less effective for no real reason. Typical me when something odd is going on with the moon.

It hardly helps that a friend of mine died in a truly horrific way last Thursday night. Her name was Angela Coleman and she lived in Indianapolis. She and pretty much her entire family were involved in the Branson, Missouri duck boat accident that's been in the news lately and the great majority of them died -- 9 out of the 11 Colemans that were on the boat.

Angela was an online friend of mine, so I only knew her but so well, but we talked relatively often. I converse with so few people these days, so I think it's fair to say she was one of my closer social media friends. We shared a lot of interests, particularly food and cooking. She signed up for ButcherBox because of how excited I'd always get about receiving and cooking with the things they sent. We traded recipe ideas often and even her son, Donovan, was getting into cooking. She was also a total "take no shit" type of person just like I am, so we bonded over general life stuff a lot too. She was most certainly someone I was always excited to hear from and talk to. She'd even gotten to know Seth over the years, so he knew her as well.

Writing Lab: All the Answers

Prompt: "Do you think life would be boring if we had all the answers to our important questions?"

I don't know if boring is the word I want to use to describe what life would be like if I already had all the answers. I think life would be easier. Stress would be a thing of the past if I already knew the easiest, most effective way to earn a living, become financially independent, or win people's lasting respect. I can't truthfully say I wouldn't love to know what it's like not to feel like I'm constantly beating my head against the wall when it comes to those things.

On the other hand, a life that doesn't include opportunities to wonder, think, and discover hardly seems worth living. One of the only things that consistently makes me feel alive is the act of thinking. No, I don't like the tedium of solving everyday problems or dealing with practicalities, but I enjoy contemplating abstract concepts very much. I love wondering about God, and heaven, and hell. I love figuring out how things work and learning new skills all on my own. I love asking "what if" and exploring the possibilities I come up with through my writing.

I Am

I really find myself wondering sometimes where the people of substance are online these days, especially those of a creative nature. I know way too many writers, artists, filmmakers, and so forth that seem to care more about creating a facade to hide behind than they do about creating really good art. I don't get that. When I think of professions that lead to tons of admirers and money to wipe your ass with, I don't think of any of the arts. It really does feel like "I want to be an artist" is becoming code for "I have no marketable skills, nor do I want to work for a living, but I don't want to admit to either of those things". 

Whenever that realization occurs to me, I become aware of how rare it is to have accomplished the things that I have. Not only do I have real skills and real ideas, but I've actually found a way to make those things marketable. And I'm not even close to being done yet. There are so many places I can see myself taking my creativity in the future and I actually have a good idea of how to make successes of those endeavors as well. So many of these sham artists have no idea how to do the same. No wonder I have haters. 

The Disconnect

Earlier, a LiveJournal friend of mine posted a positively gorgeous photo of herself, a sample from a professional photo shoot she'd had done recently. Honestly, I was taken aback by how lovely she looked -- very refined features, wonderful skin, and the most gorgeous long violet hair.

Up until that point, I'm not sure I'd seen a picture of this particular person that really allowed me a clear look at her. Once I had, I immediately began to wonder why she doesn't post pictures all the time. She is stunning. Her looks are very close to the type of looks I've always wished I had. "If I looked like her, the entire Internet would be so fucking sick of my selfie spam by now," I thought.

Then I actually read the words she wrote. Among other things, she mentioned having a disconnect between the way she sees herself and the fact that she likes the way she looks in the picture. She mentioned having gained weight and being able to see it in her face and a couple of other things. I really didn't see any of that myself. I just saw a stunningly beautiful girl that is very blessed with what I consider to be an incredible dose of beauty. To me, she looked absolutely flawless.

I can relate though. More than I probably really care to admit. Truth be told, I don't usually think of myself as a beautiful woman. I'm well aware that others consider me to be not just pretty, but exceptionally attractive. I'm also aware that many people feel the same way about my looks that I felt about my friend's. However, I do not see that in myself.

On the Passing of Prince and the Loss of Childhood Heroes

I was so sad to log on today and hear that Prince passed away. Not only was he only 57, but he wasn't really one of those celebrities that partied so damn hard you just knew it was a matter of time. Actually, although there hasn't been an official announcement as to the cause of death yet, it sounds like he spent the last few weeks ill with a very persistent case of the flu and just wound up collapsing suddenly at home. He probably should have been in the hospital if he was that sick, although who knows if that would have made a difference.

Like a lot of people, I'm astonished at how many legends we've lost recently. Seriously... legends. People like Prince and David Bowie are icons that seem to transcend their very humanity on so many levels. It seems surprising somehow when such people actually die eventually just like everyone else. It's even harder to swallow when they die for reasons like this. You want to think someone as superhuman as Prince could never be killed by something we've all experienced, like the flu, but there it is all the same.

I've always heard that one of the hardest things about entering middle age is that you start losing older family members -- people like your parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. No one warns you that it's also hard to start losing your childhood heroes -- the people you grew up in awe of. The people whose creations shaped who you eventually became and helped you get through your younger years in one piece.