Tiny White Flowers

Tiny White Flowers

Friday, November 7, 2008

Artist's Way Journal - Week Seven, Day Five

I just complete the section on jealousy.  Admittedly, I know I felt cheated out many things when I was a child, however, and maybe because my brain is a little fried right now (lack of sleep, hormonal stuff, etc) I'm having trouble coming up with many things.  I'll recap what I wrote in my leather journal.

Archeology, An Exercise

1. As a kid, I missed the chance to :

* sleep over at friend's houses when I was younger.  I made up for it when I was in late high school, and very much so in college.

* go to friends' houses after school.  They always had to come over to ours, which was okay, but got old after awhile.  That finally changed when I was in about 6th or 7th grade.

2. As a kid, I lacked:

* good self-confidence, boldness

* popular clothing.  I wanted so badly to wear what the other kids wore, and to wear pants when I was in grade school.  I could only wear them when I was sick (to cover my legs), and finally when I was somewhere between 6th and 7th grades.  (Hmm, about the same time I got more freedom to visit friends at their houses...)

3.  As a kid, I could have used:

* an older brother, providing he was nice, understanding, and didn't beat me up.  Or hit me in the arm like What's-His-Name did in the 4th grade.  Ah, yes--Jeff. B.

* less of the silent treatment from my grandfather.  I hated that.  I really don't think it did any good.

4.  As a kid, I dreamed of being:

* a nurse
* an astronaut
* popular, "in"

5.  As a kid, I wanted a:

* house with four floors

* mother who didn't get so mad.

6. In my house, we never had enough

* privacy (sort of).  By that I mean even the garbages were gone though, just in case something important might have fallen in.  

* ?  I really had plenty.  

7.  As a kid, I needed more:

* responsibility, to help me to be a stronger adult.  I still struggle with being on task, getting important things done.

* freedom to make (early) decisions/mistakes

8.  I am sorry that I will never again see:

* my grandmother
* my grandfather

9.  For years, I have missed and wondered about:

* my photo album of punk pictures

10. I beat myself up over the loss of:

* my grandmother.  I didn't "get it" when everyone told me she didn't have long.  I just didn't believe it somehow, and on the day of the week I was to visit, I changed my mind, as I had a little cold; I said I'd go the next day.  I think DA suggested I just come anyway, so I made the trip.  Still, I missed her by two hours.  I think she died while I was on the ferry, or just leaving my house.  The week before I sat with her in the nursing home lunch room, as per usual, with my knitting, and some apples from our tree.  I think she said all of six words, and mostly just smiled and looked tired.  When I was leaving I said, "I'll see you next week."  She just smiled at me.  Looking back, I think "she knew.  And I just didn't get it."

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