Reader

Birth, asthma attacking my soul borne blue,learning as I grew, I walked and I babbled, cute as any Hair was so curly, mum thought the world.

I soon learnt that other kids would be quite cruel, Not understanding me like nothing else i knew Dumbass and idiot moronic labels would be thrown

Something im working on, my life story background about my nuerodeverity in poetry form.

Not sure it does the issue justice...

Even the teachers thought Little, Till school did I move, learnt to run.

Other labels would then be me, Dyslexia and dyspraxia… More I learnt, harder the world seemed to be Thinking differently, not quite the same as all else

I got the help for that, didn't stop, self doubt and self loathing, I became depressed becamem toxic.

Fell into drug use, a bit of that, bit of this My friends wherent great, often trying to lead off the straight and narrow course, Users loosers, nafarious folk but, where still mates, only one i ever knew.

Ended up hearing voices, reality was obviously a sham, distorted A psychic war had began, delusional Was placed with more labels then I could count

Spent a long time stewing in purgatory With my misgivings, lost Not quite with the world, not part of society. No faith,no hope, no chances

Only recently light was shun in the darkness Rays of hope broke through. Cut loose old friends, made new Found a passion for art, started becoming Alive,

Sought help, admitting faults ,got the support I needed Therapy meds, new friends, a place to belong, I even Eent back to mass. I found peace and solace, With the father's homilies.

Finally I feel more whole, still with issues but more able. knowing now with some self worth,

I'm loved.

At least not longer in such a dark place.

Started posting to allpoetry.com too username psychicferret84.

Decided to write a poem for a painting ive got going on. Doing a picture of Christ atm, a portrait. Think ill put this poem ive just written as a warm up to go with it. maybe glue it to the back of the canvas or to go along with any online post

Prayer of the fallen Subtle god, who listens, in the cool wind I sense your presence.

almighty holy spirit, the flame who guides. More than a feeling, less then a voice. I hear you whisper, closer than consciousness. Burning into my soul.

Rituals and genuflection, scent of the church, the frankincense, a memory of old. A part of human dogma, something to please us, fallen.

We are all sinners just trying, following an example of the sinless, the blameless one. Endlessly trying to never forget.

His kindness, his openness, He loves us all, for that I'm truly thankful.

Do need to write poetry more often. I've also been reading some poetry by Oscar Wild recently, was totally surprised at how religious inspired it was, he might not of been accepted in his time due to being gay or bisexual but he is a true Christian.

The photo challenge week #42's motto was heimlich (means secretly). My first thoughts were about scenes of doing something secretly. But I discarded that first and quick association, as it was just too boring.

On Thursday that week we had a full moon and I saw it in its full beauty when I came back from a short walk. So I set up my tripod and my camera and took a few photos.

Friday I thought – well this could do, as the moon somehow secretly raised behind the tree... But as I was still not really satisfied, my internal fantasy unit™ kept on working in the background. Leading to browsing the phone book and looking for someone with the name Heimlich...

Well, I found him in the big city. Mr. Heimlich. I rang the doorbell and he opened. After introducing myself, I explained the photo challenge to him and what some really nice photographers are practicing by this challenge. I asked him, if I could take a photo of the nameplate on his letterbox. And so he agreed. I also offered him to take a photo of himself – if that would be fine for him, but he felt uncomfortable with that idea. No problem, as I was really happy to take a photo of the nameplate. So we said good-bye as I needed to get my camera from the car and he went back into his house, closing the door.

Back from the car with my gear, he was there again, standing in the opened door – he smiled and said, “I'll make you an offer, come in and look at this frame”. I was completely overwhelmed as he showed me the drawing of the family coat of arms that I was allowed to photograph. I noticed the written year 1427 and learned from him that the name comes from Silesia and that the coat of arms can also be seen in a museum at Nuremberg.

When I finally left, I thanked him again. “Maybe that's better than the letterbox”, he said with a smile and a gleam in his eye.

Every 2 weeks I post a new art challenge prompt! The new #KWPrompts is #Trees Did you know that most tree species are only endemic to a single country, so you have to look really hard to find new ones? Did you know there are at least 70,000 species of tree on Earth, but I can't give you a more specific number because we keep discovering more & more new trees? Every time I turn around it feels like I'm hearing about a new tree being discovered. Trees are some of my favorite plants, but I don't think I have a favorite tree. Do you? Share it with us! Let's spend the next 2 weeks making terrific art

Each challenge lasts 2 weeks from the day this post was made. You can submit a new picture every day, work on one picture for 2 weeks, or post pics randomly. This is the most laid-back art challenge on the internet, & that means you have plenty of time to make your art however you want. Just make sure you tag me @KarinWanderer so I see it!

Use #KWPrompts #Trees & tag me so I can see how you think!

Pick your social & post your art! Mastodon Bluesky Cara

All art styles & skill levels are welcome- beginner to expert, renaissance painting to rough sketch! No AI, Yes alt text, CW as needed. Have a fantastic day, draw something for my art challenge, see you next week!

During the last poetry session was asked to write a summery about any story and if time try to write a poem from the eye of a charecter, I've choose little redcap as red riding hood had been featuring in my days recently.

Little red cap by brothers grim is the original story of red riding hood

Her grandmother lays in her cottage il and the mother of Little redcap gives her daughter an errand. To go to her grandmother's cabbin with cake and wine but be carefull Not to wonder of the path

On her way Little redcap meets a wlfm unafraid She gets tricked of the path, while away the wolf hurries to the grandma's cabin, gobbles up the grandma and puts on her clothes and lays in bed, waiting

Littlered cap wakes the wolf in grandma's garb and questions why her ears are so large, why his eyes are so large and why her mouth is so large

The wolf jumps to swallow Little redcap and then falls asleep in grandmother's bed

A huntsman hears the wolf snore, checks into grandma's rabbit, sees the wolf and decides it safer not to shoot but cuts open the wolf wide with scissors saving the grandma and Little red cap

He then fills the woof with stones while later dies,

On another occasion another wolf try to eat redcap but her grandmother tempts the wolf with sausages and from his perch on top of the cabin, the small enticing him then falls and drowns in hot water from where the sausages where boiling

Grandma gave me once,a velvet red cap It glistened in the evening sun

On my way In my red cap, being sent With leftover baked cake, with wine To my favourite grandma whose poorly

But when trapsing along, I come upon a grey mainedwolf Unafraid I greet him, hello wolf and he me

He tells me I should take a fine walk of the path To breath and enjoy the fine day while it last So I go gather flower and posey? To go with my grandma's cake and red wine

Little I knew what a trick, the wolf had Played in mine

He was set to gobble me and my grandma, to dine

But the fool met his match, when the huntsman Set about, to cut the wolf and free Me and grandmother

Then another later tried what the first wolf failed In time. Snuck on the roof to be tempted by sausages scent Slipt and fell straight into a vail of water and drowned.

now streaming until 10am:

※ silent views of nature ※ kitchen organization ※ reading from This Arab Is Queer: next up, Zeyn Joukhadar's essay Catching The Light: Reclaiming Opera As A Trans Arab ※ abstract paintings ※ cough drop comparison ※ me wrestling with the concepts of Right and Wrong

https://www.twitch.tv/humanissome

One of the most common reasons I've seen given for supporting #populists is “they speak their mind not bound by 'political correctness'”.

In practice this means “not caring if they hurt somebody's feelings – or downright lie, about a person or a huge group of them”.

Of course, these same folks cry persecution upon any and all disagreeing opinion, claiming their freedom of speech violated.

I've worked with kids and saw that pattern in some of the littlest ones. Not literally the freedom of speech line, but the general idea.

And, to put it frankly, I'd never want to see adults still in that “I'm the center of the universe and the only one that feels things” stage of development in position of power, but – sadly – too many are. Put to place by people enchanted by that “speaking their mind”...

So, unless you're willing to be governed by people who act like the littlest kids, demand adult behaviour in those you vote for.

Demandning true adult level of understanding with all the shades of gray & levels of not knowing enough to form a set, informed opinion would be much better, but seems a tad too much to ask in this day & age. I can hope, though.

Every now and then I get a feeling like I really need a few copies of me to get things done, with all the brain buzzing going on. Not to mention all the outside pressure that tends to always be around. The work I do in order to be able to afford to do art, the clubs I belong to and in which I seem failing to be just a member and whatnot.

What would really happen, though, is that all of the mes would be busily doing one thing, with all the other stuff still waiting to be done. Yeah #ActuallyAutistic special interests for the win.

But, when projects now in various stages of realization WOULD be finally finished by the mes, I'd go dancing with myself (oh-oh-o-oh). And to go with the dancing we'd do some boozing and get drunken ideas about a bit more intimate versions of dancing with myself. Oh boyoyos.

By the way – would only the original me be married, or all of us? If all, would it actually count as polygamy when there wouldn't be multiple persons, just copies of one person?

Anyway, how long would the one I/we are married to actually stick around with multiple mes running around? One me can be a bit much, I reckon…

But… to get things done, a few copies of me might be nice.

#RandomThoughts

Afternoons like this I sit in the waiting room of my own life. Listening to on-hold music gazing at the empty hallways.

Behind my eyes worlds wander and the clouds gather, dissipate.

#Poetry #SmallPoems

Do You Believe in Good & Bad?



I sorta don’t.

“Do you believe in Right & Wrong?” In the super long mega song American Pie by Don McLean there is a portion that begins, “Do you believe in rock & roll…” It’s one of the many snips of music lodged in my permanent memory that my mind transforms into one of my humanism hymns.

“Do you believe in Right & Wrong?” is an undying conundrum for me.

If I believe in Right and Wrong then pain is wrong. Accomplishment is right. Busyness & business are right. Indolence, a word that means “not hurting” in its derivation, is wrong, because it has come to mean lazy. Why is lazy wrong? Lying down, lazing about, is deemed immoral. It's no wonder that US Americans burn out and have to be reminded to rest.

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On the next stream 7-10 a.m. on 10-17 maybe I'll explore this subject.

So I've started a poetry group

I thought I would document my journey going from a dyslexic, non-poet to a poet wannabe.

We are following the BBC maestro course poetry by Carol Duffy, unsure of which i would recommend without also having a teacher. It is informative but no set exercises which might be limiting

OK so polishing up a few poems that i started during the 5 minute allotted time

To tell the truth

tell all the truth let it wash aside

all the lost time, wasted agonies

tell the truth, own all the past

heal from brokenness and lies

Heal all the bygone times woes

move on and let it all go, heal

start renewed become all which

once was dreamed, finally

instead of wasting away in a haze.

Climate change

climate change a monstrosity wrought

denied truths by some crackpots alts

climate change Armageddons time has come

those that agree get called force

but will humanity survive if we unite nought.

such tumultuous times have now become,

For the homework we where set an assignment to choose one an art peice and write a poem from the charactors voice, i choose to write as lucifer from illustrations of paradise lost.

Lucifer my pride and fall

How I spite the limitation of thy god

rise up I tried but now cast off

fallen ever fallen into the depths

in sulphuric fumes now cast out from heaven's gate

Now I shall tempt every human,

in all manner of sort

Turn them from God's grace

And make thy kingdom of my own

they shall only worship ME,

not thy not God above

blight and spite

I shall set Him in my sight

that heavenly thrones shall be mine.

Wonderous now am I now twisted in the depths

vanity ha but pride I laugh

I grow stronger and stronger each millennium pass

madden those cast from Eden's grasp,

turn them into figureless forms,

Make them my minions shades,

A horror full blight

A tempest has he wrought,

my army shall rise and fought

over throw choirs and dominions,

of angels with my demonic horde

I shall be the one in charge,

they will all worship me and only me

the peace of God which surpasseth all understanding

There's a line from the Bible that comes to me often. I suspect it has been incorporated into a Catholic blessing or the order of the mass; and that's how it got lodged in my memory. It's the name of a lovely hymn by John Tavener. I took time to see how I would feel about the meaning in context. Here I present, from the Letter of Paul to the PHILIPPIANS Chapter 4, the parts that are meaningful and the parts that are not meaningful to me:

1 Therefore, my dearly beloved brethren, and most desired, my joy and my crown; so stand fast in the Lord, my dearly beloved. 2 I beg of Evodia, and I beseech Syntyche, to be of one mind in the Lord. 3 And I entreat thee also, my sincere companion, help those women who have laboured with me in the gospel, with Clement and the rest of my fellow labourers, whose names are in the book of life. 4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I say, rejoice. 5 Let your modesty be known to all men. The Lord is nigh. 6 Be nothing solicitous; but in every thing, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your petitions be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasseth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. 8 For the rest, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever modest, whatsoever just, whatsoever holy, whatsoever lovely, whatsoever of good fame, if there be any virtue, if any praise of discipline, think on these things. 9 The things which you have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, these do ye, and the God of peace shall be with you. 10 Now I rejoice in the Lord exceedingly, that now at length your thought for me hath flourished again, as you did also think; but you were busied. 11 I speak not as it were for want. For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, to be content therewith. 12 I know both how to be brought low, and I know how to abound: (everywhere, and in all things I am instructed) both to be full, and to be hungry; both to abound, and to suffer need. 13 I can do all these things in him who strengtheneth me. 14 Nevertheless you have done well in communicating to my tribulation. 15 And you also know, O Philippians, that in the beginning of the gospel, when I departed from Macedonia, no church communicated with me as concerning giving and receiving, but you only: 16For unto Thessalonica also you sent once and again for my use. 17Not that I seek the gift, but I seek the fruit that may abound to your account. 18But I have all, and abound: I am filled, having received from Epaphroditus the things you sent, an odour of sweetness, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. 19And may my God supply all your want, according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. 20Now to God and our Father be glory world without end. Amen. 21Salute ye every saint in Christ Jesus. 22The brethren who are with me, salute you. All the saints salute you; especially they that are of Caesar's household. 23The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit. Amen

today I love

My boyfriend My friends Music The back massager from my boyfriend

The friends and former neighbors who let me be a part of their family. They help me many ways and are currently driving us to Auburn, Alabama, for the wedding of their eldest. I'm getting a back massage while Elton John sings Tiny Dancer and the vehicle heads ??? — I don't have to know! I'm not driving and have no responsibilities this weekend. Relax!

I love the calm that I feel lately. Less evaluation, expectation, worry. Peace.

I love peace. Do I understand peace? Have I known how to welcome peace? I know it when I feel it I'm thinking. The peace that surpasseth all understanding?

conversation excerpts between new friends from different worlds

Whenever he spoke of his home Starling grew so agitated that his slight, frail frame seemed vibrating, boiling within, ready to burst. His skin changed color! Not to the extent that the rock lizard visibly shifts its color, but significantly. Earthling was concerned.

Starling's pulse quickened, breaths grew shallow, tegument pigmentation intensified. He spat-spoke, “Living on a planet once teeming with life my species believed they were all that mattered. We thought we were the only intelligent creatures. Because we used tools, we said. Until we paid attention to all the others who also used tools! Then we had to find other reasons.”

“Here too,” our Earthling representative echoed his alien friend, in a tone meant to affirm yet calm. Agreeing not challenging is the way to encourage change, E. knew. With nonchalance: “If not tools, language, then it's emotion,” Earthling laughed wistfully, “And whaddya know? Other critters do all that stuff!”

“Yeah,” Starling snorted, still sulking but surprised at his genuine comfort in knowing his species wasn't uniquely arrogant. Surprised how quickly he felt some commonality — familiarity — with the Earthling. His anger faded only because his focus shifted to his host. Amiable, intelligent, admirable even. Still a little hard for Starling to look at. He must keep his shameful feelings of disgust a secret from his only hope for survival. He will work on these feelings on his own time, he decided. Earthling interrupted his pondering, or it may be more correct to say no time had passed at all.

“We did finally learn one legit thing that separates us from all other species on the planet.” He was waiting for Starling to be ready.

Resuming full attention, taking interest in what the Earthling had said, Starling asked, “Oh? What is it?” He wondered if it would hold true of his species as well, though he could never know for sure anymore.

“Our lives are a progression of doing one thing while thinking about another.”

Is this a joke, Starling wondered. His expression must have betrayed his thought, because E. added, “I'm serious! Of all the species on this planet mine is the only one capable of doing one thing while thinking something else. I don't know how they proved it, it isn't my field. Something about object permanence I think and distractability, attention disorders...” he faded off.

Starling looked directly at his companion. Damn if I don't like this guy! “I still don't think I understand what you're staying.”

“Oh that's all right, neither do the scientists. But they definitely believe it. They are conducting additional tests. It's unending right?”

He's laughing at me. With me? Starling wondered. I think he's smiling. Hard to tell. Do they even have the same emotions and language use? So far it feels like yes but... S. knows he is completely at sea. Asea. Aspace.

“Live in the moment,” the sages have said. “Be as the creatures of the sea and air, with no worry burdening them down.”

“Damn. Yes, I see.”

(from This Arab Is Queer: An Anthology of LGBTQ+ Arab Writers, edited by Elias Jahshan)

Selections: ⇀ 3. Never let anyone tell you that you can be dehumanised. Language has many powers, but this is not one of them. Tragically, you are always human – when you oppress, and when you are oppressed. The illusion that more is possible is the root of all evil. ⇀ 5. Do not mistake cynicism for criticism, or criticism for intelligence. Rid yourself of cynicism, which is self-loathing projected outward. It's an inability or unwillingness to account for one's actions and intentions without condemning yourself, and so you damn everyone. ⇀ 7. You are capable of so much more than you imagine – especially kindness. This is a criticism. What have you imagined recently that wasn't a worst-case scenario? This is a seed. Turn it into a door to another world. 8. Take the word 'Arab', oh black bird, shake her out into a galaxy, and again, expanding night, bejewelled cosmos! Look, look how she fits everything and everyone. Look how foolish it is to staple to a body. Take your frames, O criminals, you the designated disasters, lube them well, ride yourself to completion. If it's going to fuck you, you might as well have fun along the way.

9. You love being watched. You hate being watched. This is to do with the watcher: the surveillance state naming you sad sodomite, sinister Saddam. This is to do with your haunted mirror. You want to live in the blink, the afterimage, the blur.

10. The spectre of suicide – the other face of which is murder – lives within you, growing hearty on shame. When you stop running, you will learn the spectre wants only to be loved. Trust that death solves nothing and shame is only useful in identifying what you need to understand.

11. Breathe.

12. Fearful of loss, some people build a wall around their beloveds, thinking it will keep them close. Keep you safe. Insecurity smothers, habibi. Be wary of walls. They won't change when you all do, and then what will you do?

13. Another word for wall is family.

14. Nostalgia is the body missing itself. Isn't that wild? How you miss your wild.

15. 'Authenticity is not a fixed point in the past to which we must return in order to establish our identity. It is rather a constant capacity for movement and for going beyond existing limits...' – Adonis.

16. You will make artwork that is rooted in your life – in part because it has been made detestable and you want to make it presentable; in part because you love it, and don't understand it – and at the end, you will wonder why you feel like a fraud, why you detest what others applaud. I hate my work, you will say, when what you mean is, I hate my life. You have yet to see the work for what it is: a reclamation, a reimagining.

17. Drink some water, it's not that serious. Life is unbelievably precious, finite, divine, sure. But serious? Nah. ⇀ ⇀

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I am grateful to the Queer Liberation Library / QLL for access to this book. It's a nationwide-US resource for queer materials especially valuable during a time of Republican attacks on human knowledge. My state of Florida is one of the absolute worst US offenders in censorship of queer information & existence. It's a genuine threat. I can read passages in This Arab Is Queer & not feel, “Oh those countries are awful for their treatment of gays!” So is mine! One can say that the extent of comparative suffering is relative but I'm a humanist. I advocate human respect and freedom for all. My struggle is their struggle & we all must be free.

I love you.

Access to queer books is very much in demand. I waited 6 months for This Arab Is Queer & there are 30 waiting for it from me (while I'm typing this instead of finishing it!). Digital access to media is expensive for libraries who are probably having to pay large entertainment corporations and venture capitalist firms for access to human culture! If you are able please support the QLL. Support me. Let's support each other. Some support is financial, some moral, some inspirational. And check out the QLL yourself if you need access to more queer media.

Kisses!

Every 2 weeks I post a new art challenge prompt! The new #KWPrompts is #SpookySeason

I am not a big 'holiday' person, but I absolutely love Halloween! Spooky or Spoopy, I'm enthralled by it all! Part of it is my love of autumn, which has always left me with questions. I know Halloween is bigger in the US than other places, but I've always wondered: People in the Southern hemisphere & tropics, how do you celebrate Halloween? Do you work Spring into it, or just hang up autumnal decor anyway? My socials are listed below, please tell me how you celebrate Halloween! Let's spend the next 2 weeks making terrific art

You can submit a new picture every day, work on one picture for 2 weeks, or post pics randomly. This is the most laid-back art challenge on the internet, & that means you have plenty of time to make your art however you want. Just make sure you tag me @KarinWanderer so I see it!

Use #KWPrompts #SpookySeason &/or tag me so I can see how you think!

Pick your social & post your art! Mastodon Bluesky Cara

All art styles & skill levels are welcome- beginner to expert, renaissance painting to rough sketch! No AI, Yes alt text, CW as needed. Have a fantastic day, draw something for my art challenge, see you next week!