serendipity...

…keep reading below, I’ve got something to say about this…of course :)

Found this on Holy Kaw in my usual morning twitter surfing and thought it was VERY MUCH worth sharing…especially since “blogger therapy” seems to have become part of a community managers role in social media…and guys…not complaining…AT ALL. The more we share, the more we learn, the better we get. So please, continue to reach out, it’s all learning for me, and the real life stories are what keep it all interesting.

I think we’ve all shared similar frustrations with proper citation and linking when it comes to images and intellectual property. What baffles me is, why wouldn’t you credit your sources?

Those you are reading and following are most likely people you respect, admire or deem sources of good credible information (at least this is the case for me…kudos if i’m following you…more so if if tweet, re-tweet, or re-post you). Wouldn’t you want these people to know that you appreciate what they are doing? that you are an advocate for their messages? that you are a fan or their writing/ideas/artwork/photography and would like to be a part of the world they are creating?

I know I would.

One of the best feelings for me is when someone re-tweets something I post on my tumblr…or when I get a little share notification in my inbox. Sharing means caring people! If you enjoyed someones work enough to share it, let people know where you found it. If there is anything I consider worth a read, I would most likely want to align myself with that person or brand. I would want to create a relationship, an association for my readers, and good feelings between my work and the sources work…more so for anything I consider worth a share.

…just a thought. I mean look at that sad kitty up there. Who wants to be responsible for that!

You never realize how much something really means to you until it’s taken away. You can go your entire life just taking someone, something, for granted, just because it’s always been there…and then one day it’s gone.

I imagine that anyone reading this would think I am about to engage in a profound discussion about a certain someone that I am missing very much…and yes, this is true. I am missing someone very much…yes, it warrants much further discussion…but this is not about someone. This is about some-thing…a habit, a vice, my favorite means of escape, that was robbed from me today.

You might laugh, and some may agree that my actions are grossly inappropriate, but I have a tendency to sing while i work. I don’t even notice that I do it. When my creative side goes to work, I tune out the monochromatic lackluster office space around me and song escapes my lips and enters the world…and apparently it also enters the ears of the many people occupying surrounding cubicles.

I’ve always thought myself to be a decent singer…at times i would even go so far as to say, quite good—sending recorded ballads of love to my cross-country crush…however, it is quite possible that this is a delusion…

*breaks screech to a crashing halt*

*shrugs*

…but mom always seemed to enjoy my voice.

I’m not sure that the quality of my song is really the issue, or if it’s the mere fact that the noise coming from my corner of the world is unwelcome…hard to believe with the amount of static I encounter in this space on an average day.

Music is a form of expression. It is meant to elicit emotions…a way to share an experience with many, a way to release, to feel…it is a part of everyone’s life, (i hope). It is not meant to be bottled and stoppered. It is meant to be experienced. Granted, my place of work may not be the best arena for my incantations, but if it helps me produce a better, more creative product, then why the insult?

So I now fill my ears with Beethoven, knowing full well that even at my greatest creative capacity, I will not be inclined to spontaneously concoct lyrics to sing along with Moonlight Sonata or Fur Elise. 

My bad. I didn’t mean to offend…wait, does humming count?

WARNING: this post is a little personal…and a little mushy…

it’s no secret that i haven’t been myself. that my world just kind of flipped on me at the drop of a ball and the change of a clock and i’ve spent the first few days of this new year drowning myself in re-evaluation, trying to find the surface just to catch a breath of fresh air…but which way is up?

without even realizing it…by the nature of simple communication and the art of friendship (and it is an art), there have been a number of outstretched hands, plunging deep into the bleak insanity, with the selfless intent to help. That have been patient, understanding and kind…that have offered a laugh, or a smile, or an ear.

Thank you for that.

it has been brought to my attention recently that i often disregard a simple “thank you,” when presented with gratitude for things i’ve given, done, or helped with. i never noticed how often i passed over these words until one very special person in honest appreciation for who i am graced my blackberry with those two words and was hurt by ambivalence.

I am sorry for this.

in the midst of all of this mess, there are many people that i am grateful for but there are two, who ironically share a name, that i feel the need to address here…with my words…for all to see.

first is a man that has been in my life for over twenty years. my mother chose him when i was very young, and for most of the life that i can remember, he’s been there, in the background, supporting her, and supporting me. today, for the millionth time since i’ve met him, he lent me his loving ear. he sat across from me at a diner and just let me speak. he did not judge, because he never does, but just listened. he offered no advice, as i did not ask for it. not many people ever just do that. just listen. when was the last time you ever just listened?

Thank you for your ear…always.

the second is a man who has been in my life for a much shorter time. he has helped me grow, made me question things i have settled for and has made me set much higher goals for myself. he sees my potential. he forces me to see it. he has challenged me. he has taught me the meaning of unconditional. he has shared many smiles with me as well as many tears. he is my best friend.

so often we hurt those that are close to us. our expectations of those we believe to be great, are often too great for any complex living breathing feeling being to live up to. if we could just step back and and realize that with the gift of being close to someone that you have admired from afar, comes the opportunity to see imperfections that were not visible from a distance. sometimes, however, these perceived “imperfections” are not in what we are looking at, but in ourselves…expectations we project that create illusions of flaws in those close to us, that do not really exist.

Thank you for letting me get that close…

I could continue the list of thank yous…and i’m sure over the course of this year, many will grace the pixels of this tumblr (sorry if this made you gag a bit), but for now these two men are top of mind and have filled my heart.

Love.

sole-n-love:

I am the stone that builder refused I am the visual The inspiration That made lady sing the blues

I’m the spark that makes your idea bright The same spark that lights the dark So that you can know your left from your right

I am the ballot in your box The bullet in your gun The inner glow that lets you know To call your brother son The story that just begun The promise of what’s to come And I’m ‘a remain a soldier till the war is won

I wonder, would you still love me if you knew I didn’t smile all the time? If you saw the ugliness that does sometimes exist, the tears, the red-faced rage, the frustration, the childish tantrums, the radio-turned-up singing/screaming-at-the-top-of-my-lungs car rides to destinations unknown…the tears…could you still look at me, and know that the countless smiles and laughs and love shared are still there, behind the imperfection, behind my protective armor?

Could you love me in spite of my humanity?

We see what we want to see, but we also see only what we are permitted to. It is easy to be enraptured by a beautiful smiling avatar, words of love and happiness and joy, pictures and songs of fantasies and wishes and dreams. Computer generated perfection. Android love.

Think about all your Facebook friends, and all those hundreds of thousands of photo albums. Do you ever see pictures of someone weeping? angry? pouting? We save these expressions for our real world relationships, for those who we truly consider close to us. We do not photograph the bad times, we do not publish them to save to read another day, we do not share them…we make them go away…forget them…as if they never happened. Who would want to see them? Who would want to know someone like that?

Today I do not smile. I do not laugh. I do not do my best Julia Child impression, or giggle like a little yellow bobbling minion, or pretend to have a “magnificent globe” resting on my shoulders while chanting “off with his head!” in my best British accent. I will not sketch. I will not torture my cats…there will be no joy in these things for me. Not today. Today I am missing….I am floating through what feels like a half-life…a massive void.

But is that ok? If i show this to you today, will you still be here tomorrow?