Serious crushes. Because of the music they created. But not actually crushes on their persons. Crushes on the music they created.
New policy: I do not want to spend a lot of time on creating hyperlinks on this site anymore, so I’m not going to. That shit is time consuming. I work multiple jobs and have a full family life, just like many of you, and I need to guard my time wisely. If I mention a name and you want to know more, I welcome you to enjoy the delights of google. I’ve spent enough time in my life on busy work and now I’m transitioning away from it.
I had the day off from outside work today, so I handled some basic shit that I had not been able to get to in the past week. Hyperion in Ypsilanti fueled the start to my day. I’m pretty sure their coffee menu listed espresso and coffee, and that is all. Really, it’s something for everyone. I’m not sure what else you would need. Actually, that’s ridiculous of me to say. I don’t care how you drink coffee, or if you even drink it. Of course I care about what you consume, in the general sense. I wish for good health always. Usually. Hyperion’s drink menu is glorious for me because espresso is what I love to drink. I dealt with all of my email during those two espressos. It was amazing. I was very pleased.
At home, I selected a Beats in Space mix, Magic Touch was the DJ. I had some financial and other official types of paperwork to handle, so I allowed myself to start slowly and casually to avoid the usual stress that conjoins this activity. It worked out well. While I was doing that, my mind wandered and I made some notes about this post that I wanted to write later. Frankly, I’m not really sure what this post is supposed to be about, but I got tired of not writing, so I’m doing it anyway. My primary concern however, with not knowing, is that you’re reading this for some reason, and I’m pretty sure it’s not for a list of shit that I do. That’s the line with creativity, if it’s just shit that you do, then it’s therapy on display; but if you, the creator, can form connections with people and communicate something larger than your own story, you win.
I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’m 38 years old and I’m just trying stuff. I lost my job in March. Thankfully, I was already making plans to leave. Those plans emphasized long-term profitability, not short-term. I’ve already tried a lot of stuff in my life. I am, in chronological order, a dancer, a mother, a wife, an ethnomusicologist, a Detroit enthusiast, a divorce´, I like that word, a Whole Foods person, and now a farmer and some other shit. I don’t know. I’m still all those things. Except for the Whole Foods person. That is already composting into new ideas. Oh yeah, and I’m not a wife because I’m a divorce´. Twice in one paragraph. What I do know is this, I want to grow medicinal plants and study and experiment with them, I want to learn about machinery, including electronics, and I want to write stuff. The primary farm that I have chosen to work on offers a lot of knowledge that I can plug into those categories. And I think I’m headed toward perimenopause. Yep, I’m thirty fucking eight years old and that hormone change shit is serious. So anyway, I’m using some hefty womanly herbs – Black Cohosh, which can be dangerous or fatal to a fetus, and Red Clover, a plant that acts like estrogen, but is not estrogen. I’m trying other stuff, too, with my food and vitamins, because I’m out in the sun for long hours sometimes, or my metabolism is as fast as my teenage son’s and I need to pile on the right energy. I’ve been reading articles on men’s health sites about how to get the most protein, for christ sakes. I’m not going to tell you about all of it though because I’m still thinking about it.
In the middle of all of that, I stand stock still in shock and fear and joy at the base of parenthood. Parents work a lot, most of them because they have to. Men work a lot for their families. Women work a lot for their families. When two parents can somehow share a home (this is not gender specific, or family-type specific), the challenge of running the home both inside and out can be slightly eased. If one parent is required to do all of this work, the financially based work, and the care and nurturing and life giving work, something suffers. I have a hard time with it, and I’m not even really a single parent. I’m a divorced parent, but my childrens’ father shares all the family responsibilities evenly with me. Neither one of us are fully single parents, but it’s still a serious challenge. We need more systems in place in our communities to protect families functioning in single parent households. Because when parents struggle and suffer, so do children. Young people continue to be punished even though their parents are doing the best they can. This model can no longer be acceptable. Isolation is real. It is time to allow the karma of past generations to drift away and greet each other again with warmth in our hearts and generosity in our hands.
When I tell stories about people, please grant me this favor and envision in your head the widest diversity of types of people that you can imagine, but just hold them in your head without any judgement or assessment, so that you know what that feels like and you can replicate it again in your world.