Friday 16 August 2019

It's Been Awhile...

.... and much has changed ... and much stays the same.

This time I am reviving my blog so I can promote and motivate myself in the writing of my book. Yes, I do think I may have done this before. Nevertheless, here we go again. Although this time I am going to endeavor not to make it short lived. I realized just now that I love writing just as much I love immersing myself in my various works of creation. What the hell, may as well promote that here too. One day I hope to make a living at it. In a studio overlooking the water... a girl can dream cant she?
...though I am happy to report, those dreams are beginning to seem closer and even attainable.

Below I give you the beginning of the forward so far and part of the first chapter of my book... feel free to comment.
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Forward and disclaimer...

How does one start a book about the content of their life without revisiting the occasions in which the deepest scars have been made? I have started this book many times and have many journal writings that can still be difficult to read. How young and naive I often was. How beaten but not entirely broken I have been. Many times. I have been told that sharing my experiences can be of service to others. Then that beaten little girl in me pipes up and says…no you’re not good enough. How can you help others when you are entirely fucked up yourself? …she says. I heard a saying once … can’t recall at the moment who said it, but the words were, more or less… ‘when you can go deep within the wounds of your past without tears, you have healed.’ Can you heal from those wounds completely? There is a part of me that says no. Those scars will always be with us. Always. It is what we do with them that matters. The difference between wallowing in self-pity and setting the wounds free to be what they are. Our demons. Our darkness. The deep hidden internal scars we hide from the rest of the world. I say… know them and know them well. Knowledge is power.
So ….those scars. My scars. This memoir will endeavor to go deep with them. Although it will undoubtedly be coloured slightly off shade by my own perception of my memories and the colour of the stories embellished from the memories of others, I promise the most honest reflection of my experiences, the lessons learned and the many mistakes made that I can deliver.
I also forewarn the reader that my writings will often be raw and offensive with forthright profanity, damn fine grammar and contain an often-extreme usage of an extensive vocabulary. I recognize that it may come off as arrogant, I can be. I know I will often look like an asshole, I am. But I am also aware that I have a beautiful mind. Critical yet generous in charitable interpretation, skeptical but naive, argumentative as well as compliant. Believe me, no one is more aware of my paradoxical nature than I am.
To my family… both those of my relations that have managed to stay that way and those who have not, I would, perhaps, ask for forgiveness to the details I have not gotten correct. Try to understand that these are stories as I recall them. My own interpretation of the various situations as my mind has allowed me to understand them. From the collection of stories of my early childhood as told to me by various aunties and uncles over the years. Hearing them with new ears many years after the events themselves or hearing them differently from other aunties and uncles who were around at the time. This is my interpretation of those events and …frankly, I actually don’t care if you forgive any offense taken by that interpretation. To some of you…both fuck you and gawd dammit, I am trying to love you anyway. To some of you… both pity and sadness because you are stuck in a façade, one that knows not what love is regardless of how much you think you are the only ones do. Bulletin: you fucking don’t. YOU DO NOT KNOW LOVE. Period. And I think you know you are. Yet there is this part of me that screams at you … there is still time to learn and practice what love is. Is that hope? Yes a bit. A fantasy I occasionally indulge in until the realist in me says… some will never learn. To the rest of you … I love you and I am so glad you are part of my tribe. Family is not by blood… it is built by love, mutual respect and acceptance. By cheerleaders not naysayers. To my tribe members … this book is my tribute to you. Thank you for your support in all the directions I have taken. For the advice, sometimes taken other times not. Occasionally to my own detriment…. Through it all you have stood by my side, whether metaphorically or physically, and I am forever grateful.
I think for shits and grins I will begin this way…


Chapter 1

Once upon a time, a child was born. Not quite illegitimate but I was at least part of the reason my parents married. Yes, it was the 60’s, free love and all that. However my mother was a Jehovah’s Witness… a pregnant Jehovah’s Witness. Second generation. One doesn’t get choose the hand they are dealt. One has no choice but to play them.
I was born in Calgary, Alberta where my mom had been attending college and my father joined her there while she finished her studies. It has been said that my father went there to visit with the intention of getting her pregnant. I have no idea if this is true, I only know that about 9 months after that visit I arrived and prior to my birth they were married.
I recall nothing of my 13 months in Calgary. My first childhood memory that is clear, is being carried by my father into my grandparents house on the anchorage outside Fort St. John. I recall chewing on the end of a chicken leg bone. Apparently at that time it was not considered a choking hazard. I recall kittens …and that my mom was with us, although that part is less clear to me. She is often a blur.
There were always a gazillion people around… perhaps due to the fact my mother was the first child of 15. Yes, 15. Can one even imagine this nowadays?? You all were crazy! Although yes, times were different. Children could work the farm. No easy access to birth control. But … hey sex is important!!
No seriously … sex is important! More on that later…I digress.



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