Julie Unplugged

My beautiful girl

My beautiful girl
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

I create beautiful children, there is no doubt about it.

When I look at this photo of me, too, I see such a sincere expression on my face, very close to pure joy.

We are at the half way point of the Winter Vacation.

A week until the children are all back in school.

Wow.

Two days and not a single photo snapped

SP 97/365
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

Wow. That says a lot. Nearly as much as 130 consecutive days of crying.

I do love this particular self portrait. I like the sky, the gradations of blue, and the sparseness of the leaves on the tree and all those leaves on the grass.

January 7, I can begin being outside alone again. January 7. Pray.

The Touch of Divinity in One of my YouTube Self Portraits

If you watch this video, you will see after about 45 seconds the gentle way Divinity steps in and becomes known... absolutely gorgeous stuff... so glad I "caught it on tape"....

(Once again, such a divine thing!)

Makes me so happy!

Path at San Miguel

Path at San Miguel
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

I love this place. It is so peaceful.

I really look forward to being there alone, in the quiet... although once the kids are back in school I may bring Hank along... but I have this strong desire to sit in the leaves, notebook in hand, lean against a tree and just Write. Write. Write.

130 almost consecutive days of crying, with day 107 of not crying. That's when I started counting. I don't know how many days of 2007 were spent in tears before the consecutive crying, but I know there were many.

Space

SP What? 92/365?
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

In the drawing book I have been reading, they speak of "negative space" or the space that isn't your direct subject.

It is why I chose this particular self portrait for that days' photo. I liked seeing my back door and the windows to Katherine's room and my purple stairs.... and then my red arm, my purple notepad, my hand clasping the book and the notepad and my expression, intoning "breathe, breathe, breathe".....

I was just thinking my self portraits were getting boring and now I realize they are not at all.

There is still a lot of story to tell.

SP 51/365 - Coffee and morning pages

SP 51/365 - Coffee and morning pages
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

This is how I start most of my days.

I took this almost two months ago - and for the past four plus years - more like five years - I could be found at my kitchen table sipping coffee and scribing words across three pages of notebook paper.

I have stacks and stacks and stacks of notebooks filled with "writing without purpose" - which actually serves the purpose of being foundational for the rest of my life... because my life works better when I take the time to simply write.

And write.

And write some more.

That same coffee mug I am sipping out of here is the same coffee mug that sits right next to my monitor.

The refrigerator is now covered with magnetic photo frames filled with 4 X 6 photos I have taken since I got my camera last Summer. The pile of books in the corner nook has changed, perhaps, by holding different titles.

My purple room right over my shoulder still has an old Vision Board on the wall which I plan to replace over the next several weeks.

New life, new dreams, new hope.

Barbara Kingsolver wrote, "The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope." I am choosing to live there, in that hope.

I am choosing to step into the questions that arise with boldness.

I am grateful you are here, for the journey.

Hank waits by my feet

Hank waits by my feet
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

Last night I prepared to sleep when I noticed something missing. My footwarmer with a heartbeat wasn't in his place, keeping my feet warm.

I called his name, "Hankie!" and I heard his feet scurrying towards me.

He is getting older, so it takes concentrated effort to leap onto the bed. I tapped my feet on his spot. "Here you go, boy, here you go..." and alley-oop, there he went.

All is right with the world when Hank is asleep by my feet.

The sisters, hanging out

The sisters, hanging out
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

One of the entries on today's gratitude list was, "I am grateful my children love one another."

They do. They unabashedly love each other.

Sure, they get annoyed by each other, they yell at each other and occasionally fuss and fight over triviality, but there is so much love between these three.

They talk about when they are grown, living close together (they want us all to move to the East Coast actually, I am game.) Emma sees a career with the New York Times and Katherine wants to be a doctor, somewhere.

I am actually researching places that know the complete realm of the Autistic Spectrum... unlike here, where they are, for the most part well meaning and clueless, so Sam gets the best shot at the best life possible.

The woman at Kern Regional Center said today, like me, she sees great things for Sam. I said, "He just needs to figure out how to negotiate the world given his uniqueness."

And she seemed to get that.

Maybe its because her daughter has Down's Syndrome and John, ofcourse had Down's Syndrome so we had that immediate "we-love-special-folks-vibe"... she also sensed my complete comfort being in that setting, not intimidated or scared, just matter of fact.

Anyway, that wasn't the subject.

The subject is... my children. Loving each other.

They do. And I love that.

Recent times, in a nutshell

Recent times, in a nutshell
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

I write everywhere, anywhere, plunk me down in the midst of any chaos with a pencil and paper and I promise you, something WILL be created.

Mom artists don't need quiet to write.

We don't need sinks empty of dishes or beds made or ringing phones answered. We can write with children sitting right on our desks, like Sam is here.

It doesn't matter.

Just give me a pencil and paper.

I have words begging to be taken down, given life, breathed and felt into existence.

These are my recent times, my now, and I pray my ever after.

A snippet of my strange sense of humor

For Greg: Sam "reads" Sylvia Plath
Originally uploaded by juliejordanscott

Greg, my friend and Random Times co-hort originally met me at a Barnes and Noble open mic... I am guessing at least 8 years ago. It was before I conceived Sam... who, ironically, came to be in the afternoon PRIOR to a Barnes and Noble open mic.

I have a ridiculously good memory.

Another memory is that Greg would sometimes read Sylvia Plath at the open mic.

Sam also loves Bells. We hear them everywhere because we are tuned into them and because of his wildly acute auditory acuity.

I got out my copy of "The Bell Jar" by Sylvia Plath and couldn't resist plunking him on the couch and taking a photo. I know, I know... what is a little boy doing, reading Sylvia Plath?

Well, he just read a little bit. Really.