Friday, January 1, 2010

Day one.

I admit that I am an old person. Not physically, but mentally, I am crotchety, disagreeable, complaining and I eat too much licorice. I often rue the fact that we have no canes in our house for me to shake at kids on my lawn, or for neighbors partying too late. A cane. Now that would just complete the picture. At midnight, someone began ringing a cowbell outside our house. A COWBELL? Are you friggin' serious? I fell asleep in New Jersey and woke in the Tour de France. (Actually, that is kind of a dream of mine.) And then the fireworks followed. Large rumbles that shook our little house deep in its belly.

I welcomed the new year by being annoyed. I had been asleep for almost four hours by that point. Tucked under our many blankets, I turned over to see Beatrice sleeping in between Sam and I. She mostly does not have any interest in spending the night sandwiched between Snore-y and Drool-y. But last night, we must've all conked out during book reading. It calms me, seeing her spread eagle across our bed. Sam and I sleep on the small bit of real estate she affords us. She touches each of us across the expanse, bridging Sam and I. Now, this...this is the way to bring in 2010, to have all my people all snuggled all sound in their bed.  I watched them both sleep for an hour or so before shuffling downstairs to watch television, and apparently fix my wonky computer.

I don't always mind my particular brand of insomnia. I wake a few hours after falling asleep and stay up most of the night waiting to hear the coffee machine start in the early morning. Those are moments of solitude. Complete silence. Of contemplation and sometimes fear. Of expectation of exhaustion.But mostly, I try to make the best of it. I have been needle felting, watching crappy movies on cable and finally feeling Thor move. With each of my babies, I had silent moments of alone with them. With Lucy, it was during my bike ride, and hour and half of prenatal yoga, sometimes followed by massage. They are my memories of my daughter. With my son, it is insomnia that helps me bond with him. I can only hope this night owl business doesn't continue after birth.

Last night, I posted my first entry of 2010 on still life 365. I woke to find a note saying the comments were not working, so anyone else in a different hemisphere, or with sleeping disorders, might have found commenting difficult in the wee hours of Eastern Standard Time. I hopefully resolved the issue. And so, I introduce Community Poem I: One Word. It was actually quite a challenge to compile the words. I have about four versions of it. But this one, I think, has a progression, though, to be fair, this journey is nothing like progress. Still, I did my best. I think community poem is going to be one of my favorite projects of the year. I just want to thank everyone for their contributions, words and poetry vibes. I am really sorry if your word didn't make the poem. I had to cut the deadline a bit earlier than I intended. I will post next month's poem theme and rules a week before the 1st of the month, so stay tuned. I am so excited about this project. I am still looking for more contributions. The work that has come in thus far is moving, beautiful, healing and touching. I'd love to know what you think of the project, the poem and the look of still life 365. So, drop me a line at stilllife365days (at) gmail (dot) com. Also remember to submit your blog to the blogroll, if you are interested.

I have a great resolution this year: submit some art or poetry to still life 365. It is liberating to put yourself out there.


  1. I didn't even manage to go to sleep until much after midnight because our neighborhood was so noisy with all the illegal fireworks.

  2. I love the poem. Thank you so much for putting it together and for creating the website.

  3. 365 will be a very precious companion in my new year. I'm grateful! And reading about your insomnia makes me think, great! for i get to converse with you when I'm up having coffee in the mornings plus it makes me a bit more understanding for J is like you and I always thought him weird, not so much anymore :-P

  4. Love to you Angie,

    I rarely have a night sleep with out a child wrapped around me. I love it.

    As for the insomnia. I had the same with Ocea and now that she is here I sleep soundly and so does she.

    I am so excited for you and your art website. I would love to submit something :)

    Te blog is beautiful and I simply love the button!


  5. I wish you a Happy New Year, Angie.

    Peace, my friend.

  6. I'm crotchety too.

    Insomnia sucks. I usually just stay in bed, not falling asleep. Maybe I should get up? But it's so cold!

    Here's hoping for a great 2010 for us!

  7. Love the poem and the entire 365 project, Angie. Hope you get some good stretches of sleep with Thor - now and once he's in your arms.

  8. Gaahhhhh, thanks for reminding me about 365. Sorry about the insomnia - I know that feeling and blegh, don't like it. ALthough I do get lots of random tasks done in the middle of the night that way - things like submitting stuff to 365. :-)

  9. Hey Angie...I still have this kind of insomnia most of the time. I call it my "sipping tea with dreams" time. Been out of it, ridiculous sick this past week, so feel like the new year slipped in while I was in a haze of sleep and coughing. The 365 site and project launch look beautiful. I love the community poem -- and knowing that you'll be offering us prompts once a month to keep us creating in community. Wonderful. Really. Thank you.

    Sending you lots of miracles,

    PS: I was watching Studio 60 and the last couple episodes where there is hospital drama -- in the waiting room set -- on the walls -- I swear it looks like your art. Are those your artworks? I wouldn't necessarily recommend watching it as Sorkin does an "audience manipulator...[of] a pregnancy in jeopardy" -- I do think it's sort of funny that this is an actual quote from the script. Like the network told him he had to make drama, so he begrudgingly did it, but spoiled it by having a character tell the audience it's all manipulation. Anyway, gosh, I'm babbling. But so it was just that the paintings looked like yours and I wondered...

  10. I think your new years sounds wonderful. I am so excited about still life 365.


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