Dear America

Dear America,

My name is Lynne. I am married to a wonderful man. We own a home, two cars and both work…hard. We love our jobs and we’re good at them but we fight for every dime we make, and then we watch much of it go towards taxes- federal, state, school, property, etc. We hemorrhage money for taxes.

We have a son. He’s what you’d call a “good ol’ boy”- involved in sports, very social and fun-loving. He’s 16. As parents we’ve been working his whole life to instill in him the value of hard work and a dollar. At home I’ve tried to teach him about credit, about prioritizing his cash flow, about product research to get the most quality value for his money. We’re running into a problem with this though. Work for teenagers is hard to come by, just as it is for everyone, and his needs are getting more and more expensive. Games and game consoles, phones and cars are far more expensive than the Matchbox and Playskool versions of days gone by.

I introduced myself but, honestly, I didn’t need to because you know me. I am your neighbor, the small business owner up the street competing with Wal-Mart, your child’s teacher, your spouse. I am you.

I’ve been so poor that I've collected food stamps and state aid. I am not proud of it but I worked and paid into that system in case I needed it, just like everyone else. When I needed it, I used it. I’m telling all of you who claim it’s living in luxury, it is not even enough to live on. I washed clothes in a bathtub and rolled pennies in cut-up envelopes in order to buy diapers. I lived in day to day terror not knowing if I could pay my electric bill in the dead of a Great Lakes winter or if I could stand eating the WIC afforded peanut butter for one more day. The only people who think that is a comfortable existence are ones who have never been in it. 

I know scoff at me all you want but at the time I was a single mom and the father left me with nothing. Not a dollar, not a dime. My point is that not everyone on state aid is a drunken, drugged up, lazy, abuse-the-system kind of person and frankly, it’s arrogant and offensive when such statements are made. We, the single moms on the program, were treated poorly by the over-stretched and underpaid social service workers, a humiliation you will most likely never know, but we worked hard and got off the program. Yet, in this climate people are having a harder time doing so and yet here are Americans kicking fellow Americans when we, as a nation, are down. No one went after the deadbeat father on my behalf, and instead chose to vilify me. I am not ashamed to admit that it confuses me.

When I say I am you, I mean it. Poor or middle-class, I’ve been there, scraping and scrapping along with you.

So here we are now, a middle class family treading water and trying to teach our child to grow up to be a good American…but then who are the role models? Politicians and celebrities? It turns my stomach.

I am neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I will not follow a party because they can give impassioned speeches that might appeal to one topic I am concerned about. One. Out of so many. Instead I choose to read, to educate myself and listen to all sides before choosing. Sadly, I can no longer choose because neither side is making sense.

We voted for a bipartisan government, but we haven’t been given that. We have asked, in no uncertain terms, for help EVERYWHERE- on the internet, in the media, on the streets and lawns of our government and financial institutions but instead of turning an interested ear we, the constituents who voted for you, are being attacked by you, our own government.

Let me say that a different way…

To the government:

We voted you in because you promised to listen to us and now you are turning against us. Whether or not you see it that way, we do.

We need large corporations and the wealthy to bear some of the tax burden that has been placed on everyone else in the country. Our backs our breaking from the weight.

We need large corporations to be held accountable for their inept budgeting and their part in the destruction of the American work force. Bail-outs are simply positive reinforcement of bad behavior. Instead, hold CEO’s accountable for their “bonuses” when they have laid off thousands. Offer incentives to those who don’t outsource, who create jobs and products here in the US and for those who go a period of time without laying off. Corporations need to understand, and care, that they are part of this problem.

It’s been 10 years. We need to not be spending billions upon billions of dollars overseas in conflicts and refocus those man hours and funds back here at home. Yes, what’s going on in other countries is a tragedy, so is the path we’re on. Have you taken a walk in any major US city poor neighborhood lately? I imagine not. Perhaps you should. They look like war zones.You are sacrificing our loved ones, spending our money and for what? It’s time to get out. Starving junkyard dogs are not effective guards and that is what we have become. Let another NATO pup take our place. We’ve done our duty.

AFFORDABLE health insurance needs to be available for everyone. Again, I will reiterate this- not having health insurance affordably available damages the well being of our entire nation. Fining people without jobs, who are barely scraping by, is adding to the financial burden not helping to alleviate it. Having insurance is simply not enough, GOOD insurance is the key. What good is having health insurance with a $500 deductible when our annual visits will never reach that $500? Paying for insurance at that point is simply a waste of my hard earned dollar and putting it into the pocket of someone else when I could use it to feed my child.

We see you, when you are supposed to be focused on solving problems, back on campaign trails, sinking money into promoting yourself talking about problems you’ve made no attempts to solve. It’s angering. It’s demoralizing. It’s Un-American. YOU, our government, are Un-American.

This country was founded on the basis that all men are created equal and that all dreams are possible, yet here you, the government, are telling us that we are not equal to you, that you do not need to listen, that we are somehow lesser than you which is why we need you to make decisions for us. That is untrue and Un-American. We don’t need you to make decisions for us, we need you represent the choices we want. There is a HUGE difference. We've made our selections, we’ve said what we NEED and we want you to be our one voice to make sure it gets done. You have failed us, government, and you have done so in a manner as explosive as the Hindenburg but with the flippancy of Blanche DuBois.

Really, it’s simple. If we don’t have jobs then we can’t spend and the economy continues to tank.

It’s a cliché but it holds true- if you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem and I am saying, you are the problem.

I get it. You want us to pay taxes so that we can pay your paychecks and let the money trickle down from there. That is what Reagan set in motion. However, it doesn’t work. If I go to work and I don’t listen to my boss, then I don’t get paid and chances are, I’m out of a job all together.
I need someone, anyone, to justify to me why we, your constituents, The American Public, YOUR BOSSES, should continue to pay your astronomical salaries including all of the benefits you deny the people you claim to represent.

We are suffering and all you care to hear is the sound of your own voices screeching like alley cats fighting over a mouse that got away. This is not a machismo, bravado filled competition for power that you are in. This is a tug-of-war and millions upon millions of lives, ours and our children’s, are the rope you are merrily tugging on.

I’m sick of it.

I’m tired of you hiding behind media and men with AK47’s when all we have are grass roots and pitchforks.

I’m tired of the tap dances and the chest pounding.

I’m tired of you lying outright and treating us as if we are mindless followers incapable of researching the truth for ourselves. I should think with the internet being as popular as it is you would fully understand that everything you say will be checked against real statistics and facts, and then you will be called out from there. We are no longer the uninformed and the meek of days gone by, relying on your words to lead us. We are fact checkers and internet savvy. The world is at our fingertips and still you lie as if we will never figure it out. That kind of underestimating is insulting at best, inciting and destructive at worst.

I’m tired of being accused of being “lazy” and “ignorant” (your words, not mine) when I don’t agree with your political stances.

I’m tired of hearing that being poor is noble. If it’s so noble then I encourage you to try your hand at it, not for a week or a month but for as long as it takes to get this country back on its feet and to earn your pay.

I’m tired of the playground politics, grandstanding and media hogging.

It was once said that men defending their homes with pitchforks and conviction will always win against the most polished soldiers. The Revolutionary War is a very good example of this. Many countries, in fact, have felt this over the years. You are giving us no choice. Our battle cry isn’t for freedom, it’s to save this country you want us to be so proud of, and to save ourselves within it.

Be the change or step aside.

Regards,
Lynne
Your very typical, every day normal, tax-paying, educated, hard-working American citizen

Dusting off the pages

Well hello! What a long summer it was, leading to a great Fall (yes, that's punny).

So much has gone through my mind and the busy nature of life swept it under carpets for another day. Now that the chill in the air has chased me back inside, those days are here.

I've started another blog which is an attempt to trace a new project- Life By Numbers- 365-52-12 to 101 in 1001.
That is things I will be doing every day, every week, every month in an attempt to whittle down my 101 things to do in 1001 days list.

Additionally, I have returned to writing. I find sometimes that summer painting season shoves my writing muse out of the picture, and hog ties her to a pipe in the corner until there are no more faces to paint. Now the writing has come back.

The required creative process seems to have changed.

At this time last year I was prolifically writing short stories, some based on prompts. The prompts were amazing.
Right now, not so much. I have inspiration in other ways but that doesn't help me with the writing community I'm part of. I know that reigning advice is to just sit down and write but it just isn't there. How do you make something happen that isn't there?

We'll find out tonight as I write for a very uninspiring prompt. I've pulled in music to help me...actually song lyrics which will serve as transitions for the action and thoughts, maybe. Hopefully. Right now it's all I have. Someone else's words.

Time to test the time honoured advice of "just write".

Maybe my muse is still feeling beat up. Perhaps she needs some Advil and a glass of water to nurse herself back to her previous glory.
Perhaps.

10 ways to Creation- the first 3 baby steps

On a writing group I am in, we have been reviewing the top 10 pieces of advice from "famous" authors.

As always, there have been absolute pearls of wisdom buried deeply within dung.

What I found almost insulting were the authors who seemed to approach the task with useless sarcasm.
Did they not realize the purpose was to offer guidance to those who follow?
Did they not care?

Some, in their efforts to appear like mysterious, intelligent, creative artistes, were baffling at best. Simple statements with no clarity gave us much to discuss and almost nothing to bite into. It was, at times, very unfulfilling.

For those of us wishing to learn, it was frustrating to read holier than thou perspectives from authors we'd never even heard of.

It did, however, inspire me to think of what my 10 pieces of advice would be for anyone diving into the creative pond.

So far I have thought of 3 that are imperative to my creative process: be it art, writing or costuming.

1. Research. Do not assume you know. Do not assume your audience does not know. In this age of information, people know more obscure things that we give them credit for.

2. Remember all the rules you've been taught about creating a piece, and throw them out the the window, into a hurricane and watch them blow away. When editing, use them as guidelines. When creating, go with your gut.

3. Be flexible and open to change. Change in your outline or notes. Change in your characters or settings. Change in design. Just allow for a bit of wiggle room. All creations like to breathe and I love to be surprised when they are done.

The Process of Creating

I write. I make art. These are just things I do.
I would not be so bold as to call myself an author or an artist, even in the sitting-in-a-coffee-house-while-attempting-to-look-earnest-and-artsy sense.

Join any chat group, read an artist blog long enough, and inevitably the question of "How does one create?" comes up.
I find it surprising that anyone would attempt to define such a magical process. Then I realized, it is not magic for some, or rather for many. It seems that plotting, planning and premeditation control the creative process. This begs me to ask, is that truly creating?

Of course, in the very base of the definition, it is. You are giving birth to something new to the world. At the same time, where is the spontaneous nature that can lead down magical rabbit holes?

I took the time to evaluate what I do.

I write. I start with an idea, some distant twinkle that has no clear definition and I write a few words on a page. The twinkle becomes clearer, less obscure. Images begin to appear in my minds eye, slowly at first like a photograph building speed into a flip book and eventually rolling off like a movie. My fingers ache to keep up with it all as the action unfolds. I sleep, breathe and eat these alternate worlds.

Most interesting to me is that there are times when I have such a clear idea of how things will go, and then these living beings dancing across my page tell me "No." They move along at their own pace and tell me how their lives will be. I am simply their vessel, the one who allows them to come to life. These characters honour me by allowing me to tell their stories, and in doing so they enrich my life.
I can't ever say that there is a process to that, or that I create them. I see and am inspired. I absorb. I translate.

My art, body art and sketches that is, comes from a wholly different place.
This involves much planning on my part. I have templates that I draw on to get the images to flow just right. There is researched involved. Sifting through images on Flikr, Google and books until I find something that works just right.
The image I come up with is a gem in the rough, one that becomes refined and polished later with details that evolve as I move through the piece. The end result is generally an image that comes close to what I had originally set out to create.
Process is a monumental part of these projects.

Which is more accurate to my personal style? Well...that, my friends, is a topic for another day because I do believe it involves defining my style. What I do know is that they both work for me.
Neither is flawless, and I fully admit that it may not be correct for everyone but I don't believe for an instant that there is a correct way to write or to make art.
Whatever teachers, professors or professionals say may be relevant for them but at the end of the day what I am left with is MY computer, MY pen and paper, MY own creative mind.
And that's honestly good enough for me.

The Toughest Job

There was once a military commercial that said "The toughest job you'll ever love."

I scoffed and laughed every time it was on.

Men crawled through mud under fences and I thought it was nothing compared to trying to giving a toddler a bath after getting him back from a chocohaulic auntie.

A drill sergeant screaming at you? Try a hungry infant, with a fever, at 3am the day you have to be up at 7 for a final exam. Or alternately, I would like to suggest facing down the freshly angered tween. This is a beast who will say anything to hurt you since you stopped them from playing a video game and texting in order to do the dreaded chores. Suddenly Sergeant Slaughter seems like a lick-happy puppy.

Live artillery training? How about negotiating a Lego minefield with the foot marring addition of Hot Wheels cars while attempting to dodge the projectile vomit in order to change baby's diaper before the inevitable diarrhea bout kicks in. Seriously, the idea of facing down a tank seems pleasant now, doesn't it?

I would love to take exception with the military for falsehood in advertising. It could never compare to motherhood, which I undertook as a single, college student. I know, not ideal but I have to say, I wouldn't change a thing.

I love being a mom. I HATE being a parent. Parents have to make tough decisions, they have to set rules and make the kids stick to them, they have to get up at 5am on Saturday to make sure their child is at wrestling practice by 6am. Parents have to make kids eat broccoli, do homework and go to bed in the middle of a favorite show.
It brings to mind the age old parental adage "This hurts me more than it hurts you."
I never would have thought it, but it's true! The day I figured it out I was floored.

Parenthood hurts more than being a child does.

My mothers heart breaks when my son hurts, but I pretend to be strong to help him heal.
My mothers heart shatters when he tries, and fails. I smile and encourage him to try again ignoring my own pain.
My mothers heart stops when we fight because I fear that he will forget how much I love him, no matter how often I say it. Still, I fight him anyway knowing that once he learns that homework really is important, he will be a better man for it.

Being a parent, a mother, is the toughest job anyone could ever love.

From the Mind of a Foibled Mortal

I have a theory about people.
I believe that we become so caught up being someone else's something that our own personalities get lost along the way. I also think that while in that position, reality grips us so firmly that we forget what it is like to get lost in a fantasy, even for a moment.
Daydreams give way to "Honey-do lists".
Desires transform into dinner plans.
Hope and wishes become silent prayers about bills and children.
I've seen it.
I've lived it.
None of these are bad, but that are not the sum of who we are.

I've witnessed adults who want to play with the same freedom they had as children but who seem to have forgotten how. Those who seek simplicity and adventure, afar and in their own backyards, but fail to recognize it.
Abandon, joy, a sense of self, self-awareness enough to embrace who we are as individuals as well as maintain those relationships without losing ourselves to them. They are within reach, I think.

I've had it. I've since lost it in the back of a closet with my son's other wrestling shoe, the favored green shirt of my fiance and my sanity but I promise I did have it once.

And I want it again.

To recapture it I need to look at my past, for that is where it started, and where it was lost.
I need to look at where I am now, what I'm doing and how it all adds up.

These aren't excavations as much as stories. I'm not a psychologist and am incapable of going all Freud on myself without breaking into fits of giggles.
Instead I want to revisit stories, personal myths and legends, lessons that harbor seeds of wisdom and encourage me to be open to every possibility.

So here I am to share the whispers of days gone by, chronicle the now and ponder the paths I've yet to travel.
It won't be easy. I expect laughter, tears and a bucket load of "what the hells" and "reallys?" to come up along the way but that's the best part.
What's the use of a story if it doesn't tug, push. pull or effect something?

*deep breath*

Here we go.
Flaws, mortality and all.