Another Ending

June 8, 2008 by lonnieann

Another ending means another beginning. Destiny is simply the repeating of cycles over and over. You know you’ve been here before, you’re destined to be here again. Endings hurt so much more when you know this, because you think you finally got it right this time, but then you find yourself on the same path of the same long journey yet again. Maybe this time you’ve got a new tool, but will you use it? It’s been with you before, but you couldn’t find it. It was hidden at the bottom of your pack, buried under the detritus of old memories you carry along with you. You use the weight of that sack to hold you back. You don’t want to get to the end of the road because you think it’s just going to go wrong again, and then you’ll be right back at the beginning where the pain hurts the most.

Find the tool. Find the cup, the sword, the words that will make this journey right this time. The path you”re on is worn and old, the roots are exposed and the rounds tops of the rocks keep tripping you up. You have to keep your eyes focused on the next step and not the beauty of the world around you.  You say, “This is it, this is where I fall,” and you do.

If you’d look up you’d see there is another road. It’s paved and smooth and new. It runs paralell to the one you’re on. It will have unexpected pitfalls, but you’ll get through them. And even if you don’t, even if the new path has a final death waiting at the end of it, won’t that be better than repeating this cycle over and over and over?

Death is just another new beginning. Find the tool. Take the road. Move on. Don’t make the same mistakes anymore.

“There’s still time to change the road you’re on.” – Robert Plant

Spiritual Guidence

May 30, 2008 by lonnieann

A long time ago, when my life was at a very low point, I was looking for just about anything to believe in. I needed something to make me believe that everything was going to be all right. It seemed that every morning as I boarded the Massachusetts Turnpike from the Millbury/Worcester entrance, I would see a Redtail Hawk sitting on a lamp post looking down “at me”. My brain knew he or she was scanning for breakfast in the circle of grass created by the on ramp, but it always felt like that Hawk was looking at me. On the mornings I didn’t see the Hawk when I first got on the Pike, I would inevitably see one further down the road soaring over the morning comuters, her tail flashing a rusty orange red as the sun caught in her feathers. I remember thinking, “I’m going to make the Redtail Hawk my spirit guide. Everytime I see one it will be a sign from God that everything is going to be all right.”

Whenever I told anyone, I always said it tongue in cheek. I’d tell them, “Well, I see one everyday, and everyday I need some reassurance, so why not pick it as a spirit guide?” I’d laugh and play it off as a joke so nobody would think I was too weird, but the idea was becoming a belief inside me.

A few years later when my life had worked itself out (not in anyway I’d ever seen coming!) I found myself in Palm Desert California. It was night, my traveling companion had fallen asleep in a lounge chair after our evening swim in the hotel pool, and I wanted a drink and some conversation. There was a cabana bar by the pool with only the bartender and another gentleman sitting at it. I sucked up the courage (I’m not good at socializing with strangers), ordered a Pina Colada and waited to see what would happen.

The bartender didn’t disappoint me. She asked where I was from and when I told her Connecticut, she told me her son lived there. The gentleman next to me commented that Connecticut had some of the best Pow Wows in the country. He had long gray hair tied back in a pony tail and the unmistakable features of a Native American. He introduced himself as John Redtail.

I have one friend who seriously believes in his animal spirit guide, the Bear. I was at his house one day when the phone rang, it was a Native American friend of his from California. His wife explained to me that the two men had met seemingly randomly and it turned out that the Native American fellow was someone important in his tribe and he had confirmed my friends choice in spirit guides. I then told her about my choice of the Redtail Hawk. She poked her husband and told him to ask his friend what the characteristics were. Our jaws dropped at the conicidences he relayed to me about my choice, it fit my personality perfectly. We all laughed and still, I thought of it only as fun.

Remembering this conversation, when John Redtail told me his name, I was intoxicated enough to see it as fate. I boldly plunged forward and told him about choosing my spirit guide. I laughed, as I usually do when I tell it, and said, “I figured since I see one just about every day, I might as well choose it.”

He said in all seriousness, “How else do you think your spirit guide would find you?”

——

I am at an important crossroads in my life right now. There is a reason I need to be in Las Vegas this summer, though what it is, I don’t know. I only know that the part of me that believes in Spirit Guides is being tugged in that direction and I have a strong urge to follow it.

The last two days have been filled with angst and doubt about how I’m going to make this work. I have $200 in my bank account, no job, overdue bills, and it costs $50 a tank to fill my car. My friend who was going to help me get out there was just hit with unexpected expenses himself. We’ve been on the verge of canceling my trip and the stress was bringing both of us down.

This morning I was woken up early by my parents talking outside. They’d come over to take my Grandfather (I live with him) to the Casino. I remembered today is my Dad’s birthday, so I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled outdoors in my pajamas to say hi. I wished him Happy Birthday and made small talk with my folks until my Grandfather was ready to go.

As they were leaving, I heard an unmistakable noise. At first it went in one ear and out the other (I was hardly awake enough to really pay attention) until I realized that all the birds in the yard at the edge of the woods behind our house were calling up a storm and making a huge racket. I stood alone in the back yard, watching as gold finches, starlings and robins flew from tree to tree, completely agitated. And then, out of the woods came the comparatively large body of a Redtail Hawk. He flew down low from a tree into our yard, then turned and soared back up over the neighbor’s yard and back into the woods. Bold and angry robins escorted him out of their domain and returned as he disappeared, our yard growing relatively quiet again.

I haven’t been out driving lately, as a matter of fact, since school ended I haven’t really left the house at all. The part of me that believes in these things knows that God got me into the yard this morning so I could receive my message.

Everything is going to work out. Everything is going to be OK.

News in Lonnieland

May 22, 2008 by lonnieann

My spring semester at Tunxis Community College ended on Monday. I turned in my Creative Writing portfolio, for better or worse, sold back my Art History text and celebrated by taking that money to Borders. That was completely irresponsible since I still don’t have a job and my tax return is about to run out, but it had to be done!

I’ve been on the job hunt for two days now and I’m already discouraged. There is just nothing out there that interests me, and the idea of going back to work at an uninteresting job causes me run away from the computer and hide with Dorothy in the Land of Oz. (That’s one of the books I bought, it’s so different from the movie!) Last night I confessed my dread to a couple of my teammates in World of Warcraft and a wild plan was hatched! If I have to work an uninteresting job, why not work in a very interesting location? I should come spend the summer with them in Las Vegas!

I don’t have class this summer, and I don’t have a job holding me back, so what is stopping me from going out to Vegas for a couple months and working some temp gig out there? It sounds like an exciting adventure, and there might even be a bit of romance in it for me! Oh wait, I answered my question right there.

You see, the catch is that I would be living with one of my teammates, a very nice, caring, considerate guy (from what I can tell of spending every night with him online for the last two months) who has the potential to be something more in the future. His Mom lives with him (not the other way around) so it’s not like it would be just the two of us and if anything were to seriously happen between us, we’d need a good chunk of time in person to figure that out, right?

It wouldn’t be the first time I moved out of state for a summer to live with a potential boyfriend. When I was nineteen I met a guy from Boston at a Live Action Roleplaying (LARP) game. Boston was as far as Las Vegas to a girl from Connecticut with no car and a part-time job at CVS. His Mom was a teacher and she suggested to him that since she had the summer off, wouldn’t it be nice for me to come up there for those three months. Her argument is the one I used above, if anything were to seriously happen between us, we’d need a good chunk of time in person to figure that out. When I approached my Mom about it, she told me that if I didn’t go, I’d spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I did. And she was right. What was supposed to be a summer in Boston turned into ten years in Massachusetts. Only one and a half of those years was with that guy, but I wouldn’t trade back any of it (except maybe some of the financial blunders I made).

My friend Tammi once gave me a birthday card that said life happens in spirals. It always circles around to a place you were before, but it never exactly meets because the growth you’ve experienced pushes that line out a little more. This is one of my spirals. What lesson should I have learned from the last time I was here? I think the answer is go for it, but don’t use it as an excuse to run away from home. I have something to come back to this time, the start of my fall semester at Tunxis. But running away for the summer is perfectly acceptable! (Besides, one of my best friends lives only a four hour drive away in LA if anything goes wrong.)

Joseph Campbell’s advice to all his students was, “Follow your bliss.” My heart tells me I need to go.

May 19, 2008 by lonnieann

I’ve been working on The Runaway and the Mage Tower all weekend, trying to make it into something worth turning in. Last night I let two of the guys in my guild read what I hoped was the finished version of the story. When I asked for their honest opinions, my friend Dale said, “Where’s the humor?”

I told him, “It’s not that kind of story.”

And he said, “But, it’s always funny when we die!”

When he said that, everything clicked! No wonder this story was so hard to write, it was too damn angsty! If this was the way things really went when running through dungeons, I wouldn’t be playing anymore! Dying is supposed to be fun and funny! That’s why I love the group that I play with!

After working on that damn story for three days, it wasn’t hard for the guys to convince me to blow off some steam by running a Heroic level dungeon last night. And of course, as expected, we wiped, meaning everybody died, multiple times. Tragically, I couldn’t find the humor in it! The story had infected me!

So now I want to burn the damn thing and start all over again. But I won’t. I’ve got a couple things to polish up before I turn it in this afternoon, then I’ll forget I ever wrote the damn thing! When I get home, I’m writing up a little something about Dale and Travis constantly trying to get each other killed in Heroic Ramparts. I need to bring some humor back into things again. That’s what this game is all about, having fun in a virtual world with your friends. :)

Commitment vs Emotion

May 15, 2008 by lonnieann

I had my final critique in my painting class the other night. Everyone said great things about my work. My Teacher had a few constructive criticisms that went in one ear and out the other. But one thing he did say to me hit home in more ways than he knows. He told me that my commitment to my work outweighed my emotion.

I laughed when he said it and replied, “You must have noticed a heck of a lot of commitment then!”

My teacher and I have a running joke. When ever he introduces me to someone, or introduces himself to someone I know, he always says to them in regards to me, “Pain. In. My. Ass!”

Everyone laughs and I always say, “It’s true.”

This semester I have given him such a hard time because the frustration inside and with myself had to be let out somewhere. He and I have had intense conversations about art and my future in it. Not all of them have been encouraging. He never intended to discourage me, but he doesn’t know what I have inside me that took his words in twisted them with my own fears.

There were nights in class where personal restraint was the only thing that kept me from snapping $8 brushes in half. There were times, when his back was turned, that I took a paper towel soaked in Turpenoid and completely obliterated every mark I’d made on the canvas. These were usually followed by half hour long encouragement sessions before the next class where my friends would have to talk me into going back.

With all the anger, frustration, anxiety and fear I experienced in that class, for him to tell me that my commitment outweighed my emotion says quite a lot, and I wonder if he really knows what he’s talking about!

He followed up this comment saying that in Art, as in relationships, your commitment has to outweigh your emotion. There are times when the happy emotions just aren’t there, and it’s the commitment to the other person that carries the relationship along. I don’t think he has any idea how hard that one hit home. In his mind, he was using relationships as an analogy to help us understand art, but for me it worked the other way around.

My relationships have all been about the emotions. When the emotions turn from happiness to fear, I run. Why is it that I can conquer those emotions when it comes to art and commit to finishing a body of work, but I don’t do the same for the personal relationships in my life?

I think the answer is trust. I can trust that when I’m done with that canvas it will hold an image that reflects the effort I put into it. I will always have a sense of pride to know that, for better or worse, I worked that painting until it was finished.

But, I can’t trust other people. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put into a relationship, the other person could just walk away. Canvas can’t walk away. You just keep putting paint on it until it’s done.

My Mom said once that she didn’t think I would ever get married because I can’t make up my mind about anything. Even she can see that in love, my commitment does not outweigh my emotion.

Will it ever?

Faint

May 12, 2008 by lonnieann

“Hear me out now
You’re gonna listen to me like it or not
Right now, hear me out now
You’re gonna listen to me like it or not
Right now

I can’t feel the way I did before
Don’t turn your back on me
I won’t be ignored”

Faint by Lincoln Park

There were days when he wanted to scream out loud! Most of the time he let his music do it for him, but there were those times in the car, late at night on the back mountain roads, nobody to hear him but himself, where he gave in and just let it all out!

“Don’t turn your back on me, I won’t be ignored!”

There was the dream,  not quite a nightmare, where all he could see was a sea of people, just the backs of their heads. He’d reach out, grab them by the shoulder, turn them around, but even the front was the back. He could spin them this way and that, but all he would get was the back of their head. He’d stand in that sea of people, trying desperately to get someone to see him, to hear him. He’d wake up crying.

“Hear me out now! You’re gonna listen to me like it or not, right now!”

He wish he could cut loose, punch his fists in the air, spin and kick and destroy armies of oppression. He longed for freedom, his wings spread wide and free, gliding on thermals away from all that held him down. Each morning he knotted his tie and fit it close like a noose, letting the dark red fabric fall against the white of his shirt like a spill of blood coming straight from his heart. He put on his jacket and got in the car, the door closing like the bars of a jail. He propelled himself onward, the daily grind, the office, the mundane world. But he wanted to scream. Out loud. Right now.

May 12, 2008 by lonnieann

I fill silence
With the fears of a creative mind
And a heart that’s been broken
Too many times.

Names

May 12, 2008 by lonnieann

Another thing I need to keep in mind when writing my story is names. You can feel completely close to someone you only know by their game name. Even when you know the person’s real name, it’s sometimes more comfortable to call them by their game name.  My friends in the game call me Despair all the time. Very few of them call me Lonnie, and if they feel that Despair is too weird for them, they shorten it to Des.

It always takes a bit of adjustment when someone creates a new character, as I’ve done recently. She’s a doe eyed tauren shaman named Appleblossum. (The mispelling is correct, there is already an AppleBlossom on our server.) When I am playing her, it’s funny to hear people stutter between Appleblossom, or Apple, and Despair when addressing me trough the voice chat software.

Three Damn Days

May 12, 2008 by lonnieann

In our modern world of instant communication, email, message boards, cell phones, and text messages, three days is a very long time to go without hearing from someone.

I remember listening to the song “The Picture” by Sheryl Crow (featuring Kid Rock) at work one night. The line, “I ain’t heard from you in three damn nights,” followed by “I can’t look at you while I’m lyin’ next to him,” sparked one of the older generation of women in my office to comment in disgust about the song. She just couldn’t believe that this woman would move on after not hearing from her man for only three days.

At the time I agreed with her perspective. Three days seemed a bit short for making a choice like that. She must have had this other guy in the works and was just waiting for an excuse to move on to him. But recently, I’ve found another perspective.

I’ve been thinking about MMO gamers and how we interact with each other. We spend more time together than some spouses do. Every night I spend a good 3 to 5 hours online with these friends, their voices in my ear and our characters chill’n in the same virtual space. Even on the weekends we pop in after doing our chores or after our plans with our real world family and friends have been completed. We catch up, let each other know where we’ve been, what we were up to. Even if the only thing we accomplish in the game at that time is checking our mail or putting something up on the auction house, it’s the interactions with the people we play with that make us log on for those few minutes before bed, even on the long days.

When one of our own goes a full 24 hours without logging in, we wonder where they are, what they’re up to. Most of the time we’ve told each other the night before that we won’t be around the next day. We always tell someone when we’ll be gone for more than a day, “The family and I are going camping this weekend. Don’t expect to see me until afterwork on Monday.”

So, when one of our own doesn’t log in for three days, and they never told anyone beforehand that they were going away, it generates a world of worry for the rest of us left behind. Even with all our different forms of communication, if someone decides to take a break, they can literally just disappear.

There are acceptions to this. There are usually pods of individuals who all know each other outside of the game and if one of them disappears, there’s always word through one of their friends on where they’ve gone. But every so often you have that one person who nobody realized they didn’t have a tie to outside the game. How could that person be such an everyday part of your life, and then all of the sudden, they just dissapear?

Three damn days can be a really long time when this happens. It can be enough for you to need to move on. Some questions will never have answers, and all you can do is let them go and hope that maybe someday, the person will come back and tell us their story.

Emo Story Art

May 11, 2008 by lonnieann