Tuesday, June 19, 2012

A Passel of Pictures, A Pound That Prickles, A Pack of Paragraphs To Prime the Artistic Pump...and a Book for the Calorie Curious..

Just a various-items type of update, cause this is a transitional week for me, trying to do a lot of things at once while finding the balance. I'm not handling transitioning great, but I intend to get my footing!

I do feel like smiling and laughing again. Father's Day weekend pics are PROOF!
My hubby (with halo) and me.
I really love what the wind did to my hair here.
I wonder how I'd replicate this retro look?
Hair combs? French braid? I like it, though.




Windy-curly smile. Jungle Red lips.
Love the stone with my  dress and hair
My signature colors: red, black, white.
I felt better--mood, energy--but not 100%. I'll get there. (God, please.)  I wore a dress that had been sitting in my closet for months. It fit a little loose, but was comfy and girly. These are genuine smiles, so I'm hoping the remnants of the blues just fade away:




 I stepped on the scale today after the weekend of eating a bit more: 181.6

Hm.

Well, like I said, wobbly transition. Exercise has been....laughably minimal.

I downloaded THIS BOOK to my Kindle. I figure it will remind me to keep on top of calories, as maintenance requires it. And ease off the sugar-free chocolate. The preview for it was very interesting, and I like science-ey stuff.

The writing: Well, I sat down and wrote nine paragraphs. Okay, so some were only one-liners. But hey, I wrote. Yay, me.

Doesn't sound like much, does it? But nine paragraphs raise a story question, introduce a character with a special trait, add a deviation from the norm, and maybe make you want to read more, even if it's preliminary, warm-the-brain-up crap after 5 years of writing pretty much bupkis.

Behold the rough crap:

Luisa was used to seeing what others missed. Hurrying to the office on an early summer morning, she couldn’t help but notice them.

The beautiful ones faced eastward, every single one.

Whether dressed in suits and ties or shorts and tees, whether masculine or feminine or that intriguing androgyny that smiled from the space between, all sat or leaned or stood in postures of expectation. This one stood bowing a bit forward on muscular feet, and the only thing that kept him from tumbling into the gutter was a tanned hand balanced lightly on a parking meter. That one with sat with a Cuban pastry untouched on a paper plate in front of her, head tilted to the right, utterly white hair a frothy cascade against the black of her black jacket. Another sat with elbows on bare knees, an expression less patient than his comrades. And that one there, he (or perhaps she) paused in sipping her  (or his) latte, lips parted, as if already caught by some wonderful matter only they-- these assorted staring beauties --could see.
They did not read newspapers or novels or the faces of passersby hurrying to work, as Luisa had been. They did not type or swipe on gleaming gadgets du jour.

They stood out, even among the usual mix of attractive residents and workers. They drew attention, and didn't care. They ignored everything other than what they look at that way…east. 

Luisa stopped walking--fine, so she was late already, a few more minutes didn't matter-- and followed their gazes.

Nothing struck her as stare-worthy in the regular sights from the parking garage to her office: inviting eateries and freshly-opened shops catering to the younger, urban, vigorously trendy crowd that had moved in over the last couple years. Nouveau or vegan or organic or fusion whatnot.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

But there they were, those exquisite creatures with their unwavering attention to--what?

Yes, my rusty brain is being asked to create. It's not easy going from nil movement to acceleration creatively; but it was actually, I dunno, let's say I felt this sense of, "Oh, that's right, this can feel good and tingly!"

The paragraphs may or may not be relevant. It may simply be an 'oiling the machinery' exercise. But it still felt good to overcome inertia and WRITE SOMETHING. My intention is to go back to one of my two preferred fantasy manuscripts and enter those worlds again. But this might end up a story. Ya never know.

Okay, that's it for the update. Be well, folks. Let me know if you get the book! (Or if you're writing fiction, too.)

Oh, and you may note that I changed the blog's name and subtitle. It's no longer Two Years to Happy Weight After....


10 comments:

Suzan said...

Like the writing! Keep going!

Love the photos, too.

Jo said...

It's so nice to see you genuinely smiling!

I'm not yet through my first Marion Nestle book, but this one is a possibility, for sure.

Debsdailylife said...

I LOVE to see that smile!! And I love that dress!!! Purple and black. LOVE!!!! I cant wait to watch your writing unfold!!

Nanette said...

Look at that smile! and that lipstick! I'm glad that you're coming back. :)

Bluezy said...

You know I linked up tp some great reading last year...they were short stories that have me a tremendous want for more. You know that feeling. Cornered up cozy some where. Intent on the pages. Captivated. The reason paperbacks were created so you could take it easily with you so at any moment you could find, you could bring it out and get into it some more. It was something I had forgotten in my electric hermitage. This time I was much privileged to have experienced an aquaintence with the author before reading the author's fiction. The name of the author is Mirta Schultz. Damn good writing I tell you that!

Caron said...

When I looked at the first picture, I thought you had a braid and I love that look. The nine paragraphs are very interesting and make me want to know more. :)

Bluezy said...

Oh I wish I could write fiction...I definitely am living the drama.

Sunshine's Heart said...

Good luck with your writing, Mir. It looks as if you have a good start and some great ideas. I know that Stephen King says that the secret to writing is to write. I wish you the best.

Deb Willbefree said...

Good for you. Really. I'm relieved and happy for you.

When I hit 175, I loved how I felt physically, I was even pleased with how I looked. It felt good enough--with an emphasis on good.

But the charts say that I should weight 132. I knew that was too low, so I was set on 152.

I thought I should keep pushing for that last 20. And the more I pushed, the more obsessed I got. The crazier my eating got. The crazier I got. And the weight was up and down 5 pounds for a few months.

Then a major surgery with a prolonged recovery happened. I began to regain. 20 pounds over that three months of enforced inactivity that recovery required...over Thanksgiving and Christmas and my birthday and anniversary. Yeah.

The thing is, I think that if I had allowed myself to enjoy being at 175 instead of badgering myself about that last 20, I think I would have been more stable as far as resisting indulgence.

I entered that period feeling battered and like a failure--even tho I WAS HAPPY WITH 175. Of course, I felt guilty about being satisfied.

I don't think I'd be starting over again now, if I had just allowed myself to relax and accept the fact that I liked where I was physically.

Who knows for sure, but choosing maintenance may be just what you need right now.

Stand firm.



Deb

upinthecosmos said...

Great pictures (especially the halo one!), I miss tuning in & seeing your smiles and those curly locks:-) I love the dress also, so fun. Keep going on the writing sounds like it could be a great read in the making! I also wanted to thank you for your comments, I think much the same as you where I do let the guilt go cause if I didn't it would eat away at me too much.... to bad it couldn't eat the fat away, that would be AWESOME!