Candid Corvid Productions

It must be enough that my efforts have helped to bring us this far – even though the results do not seem equivalent.

For creative rights to design one’s life there is little compensation but each step we carve out leading to another, helping hands along the way if we are lucky, and likely a lonely vista once we get there because those of us who try are scattered and rare.

“I don’t want to be like that.”

“You’re not like that. You are fighting every day and pouring everything into making sure your family stays off of the streets.”

I must view the woman as being accountable, rather than taking the blame as my own. I did all I could and more to ensure that we had a home.

Yes, I needed to be able to depend on her. Like it or not, this is a service landlords are charged to provide by default of their position in our economy.

However, they look at their properties as money makers for their own ends – and ignore the responsibility for other people’s lives having stability in exchange that’s held within their hands.

As an adult attempting to provide for my family, it is difficult to repeatedly experience what we should have gained being dropped.

Because she had learned that good communication and building friendly rapport was essential to having good relationship, she extended a little caring to their landlord – and encountered deep resentment.

As we gear up for the separation of our family’s unit, I know we are at the whims of The Fates, again. At this point, I ask myself how am I ever to feel that I can stand on solid ground – when the consistency remains a constant shifting?

Devastation, infatuation / appreciation, saturation: if not looking, I find you; if sought, I lose.

Currency for survival.

How does one regain it while their Maslow’s keeps getting erased?

She had just finished the first wave of taking apart the dog’s yard and releveling to make it nice and happened to be relocking the slider door when she noticed the landlord walking across her backyard area with a clipboard, scrutinizing her progress and items ready for packing while noting and/or checking off on paper.

The landlord had not given 24 hours notice, nor announced she and her workers would be all over their unit’s property nearly every day working on the upstairs unit for the last four weeks.

They had not been notified of post repairs for the base of the balcony above them just outside their window – with the old post now just left there hanging. And a desk had been left on their front porch the entire time, while dust and noise pollution infiltrated their unit through their side door.

Letting myself take the night off is tantamount to sin.

I work out at low weights to realign core balance stabilizer muscles to reinforce and ensure ability’s strength.

Lately when she went to workout, the sorcerer’s thrall attempted to lay claim to her aware consciousness. She asked Source to help purge his infatuous influence, and for God to severe attachments, unsure when all of this had begun and grateful for the help in removing this psychic parasitism.

Release the attachment to/of psychological and emotional burdens society ascribes to?

What I planned would happen was different from how things were actually proceeding, so I retained the truck to keep personal maneuvering.

I’m not going to keep playing this game of “Wait” and dead ends…

Having cleaned out the truck and strategized leaving my car at the shop and walking back to get the truck ONCE for efficiency’s self preservation, upon returning to the truck I discovered that its key was no longer in my pocket!

I am not perfect.

I makes mistakes.

But, I try to amend them.

I cannot simultaneously attend every moving component, which is resulting in our leaving before we know where we are going.

“I am not just another moth to your flame.”

It is more difficult to move out of a place than into a new one. This goes for homes, paradigms – etc.

When I first heard “Seas Of Cheese” in early 1990’s, that was when we lived on the upper story of tbe Biddle House, where the tiny fluff, perfectly designed flame-shaped owl feather floated into my open-to-palm-tree-window, and I was sewing our union’s first Ren clothing and patchwork, finely innerlined capes.

Fascinated by the album’s auditory and cover concept art, I wondered how Primus had developed to that point, and how and in what ways I could follow after in expressing my own prospective creative ingenuities.

Her strategy up until 2011 had been to navigate around the crazy. Since “The Fall,” it was as if an unseen force kept pulling her forward, straight through it. She hoped this meant she was on a shortcut to greater gains and positive influences.

Where others weave entrapments, I seek to be released from their entanglements – stretching to fly on new wings.

She was on a mission. It just had not defined its purpose to her in coherent, strategic revelation.