Guardian of the Cards

Every time there is a big gap in between posts - which is all the time "lately" (the last few+ years?) I feel like I should address it somehow when I unexpectedly post here again.  But also... "Ain't nobody got time for that"? 

I'm simultaneously somehow okay... better than ever, really - no.. really - while also struggling with a darkness I can't articulate.  Many times I've been told, or read or heard, that it takes being "safe" to finally be able to process trauma that you were stuck in survival mode to get through at the time it was happening.  I've realized that most of my life has been spent in that survival state.  I'll spare you the trauma dump(s).  I'm okay.  I really am.  It's just - at times - a daily fight to convince myself that it's true.  I'm trying to find myself again and this is part of that.  Thank you for being here. 

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In the chaotic mess that is my life and my studio, there are some strange constants. 

One is this:

"What is that?", you might ask.  Good question!

I've come to think of him as the "guardian of the cards".  You see, for some reason, he ended up parked on top of the box my business cards are in.  He lives there.  Whenever I need a card, or three, I move him, retrieve the cards, then put him back at his post.  

But..  what is he?

He's a wooden bear, from Japan.  

Here's a better view of him, briefly taken as I rotated him on his perch.  (He looks a bit concerned.)  

Just a few days ago, the box of cards he guards was changed out.  The best way to describe that is probably to share the post I made on my Facebook business page tonight.

That about says it all, or all I need to say right now.  

More about that bear...

Wooden bears were everywhere when I was in Japan.  The one who guards the cards is the smallest in my little collection - and the smallest I'd seen there, which is why I bought him at a random sale somewhere over there.

The biggest one I have is this guy. 

He was a gift from my bonsai instructor, when he accepted a job in Tokyo and moved away from rural northern Japan, where I was.

Here he is with a Stablemate, for scale.

I laughed after I took that picture, realizing how that is a Stablemate (1:32) mold who is also a traditional (1:9) scale - which makes the bear look HUGE.  Ha!  He's not THAT big.

So here's another picture, with Hazard - a classic (1:12) scale mustang stallion.  (He is a son of Reckless, for anyone who's followed me for a while)

I also grabbed another bear to show off here, but the picture ended up blurry.  Ah well.  This bear has a fish on a fishing pole.

At times I had wished I knew the significance (if any) of the wooden bears, often carved with fish, in Japan.  While I was there it felt beyond the language barrier for me to ask.  Someday I might go searching on the internet, but for then and for now it's just a memory of my time there and that's enough.

There are definitely bears there and they are nothing to mess with.  The Asiatic Black Bear, which was found where I was living and exploring, was known to attack people.  Us Americans were warned that they are not the often timid black bears we might be used to.  Up north, on the island of Hokkaido, are big brown bears.  I saw some fairly fresh bear scat on a hiking trail once and I think I saw a bear in a field along the road another time.  That was - thankfully - as close as I ever got to one.  

The tiny carved bear who guards my cards feels like he is well suited to the task.  

Free As My Hair

This is going to be more of a personal post.  Maybe it's a weird one.  Over the last year or two, or three, I've debated sharing here what's been happening in my life "under the surface" and, obviously - judging by the complete lack of posts - I decided not to.  Some of my readers know well what's gone on over the past... 3 years, others may not.  I'm not going to go into all or even a lot of the details, but I wanted to share this.  

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Long story short, all I will say here now about my last relationship is that he was very controlling.  To the point, relevant to this post, that he had opinions, and made many comments about, my hair and how I kept it.  I think pretty much anyone who saw me over the past several years, saw my hair in a tight ponytail, or a braid.  If it was down (rarely) it was brushed straight, flat, lifeless.  I've long hated my hair.  It's baby fine, straighter than straight - it will NOT hold a curl or style.  He wanted it long and  always brushed out.  I suppose I didn't have much of an opinion, I mostly just wanted it out of my way, so a ponytail it was 99% of the time.  

Fast forward through a lot of emotional abuse, heartbreak, abandonment, divorce, and assorted trivia.  In the summer of 2022, I moved to Minnesota, to an area where the only person I had met beforehand was my new landlord.  I moved Bo, Tealight, Jabba, about 100 chickens, and all my worldly possessions.   I decided I was DONE with relationships.  My goal was to be the crazy chicken lady alone in the north woods.  

Ha.

Instead of my plans, I met the most incredible man.

I remember early on, not long after we met, one day my hair was loose and just wild.  I kind of laughed and said, "Wow, my hair is crazy right now." 

He flashed me the biggest smile and exclaimed, "It's EPIC!"  He didn't know much about my ex at that point, certainly not about the hair stuff.  But that moment stuck with me and...

I haven't brushed my hair in well over a year.

Which might seem crazy.  I pick through it with my fingers now and then and it's only up sometimes, usually in a messy bun, when I'm doing farm chores.  Otherwise, I just let it be wild.  I actually like my hair now.

I've told a few people about this story and it might seem minor to some, but to me it's an example of how I've never felt more understood, accepted, supported, and loved for who I am.

I'm still dealing with a lot of damage and demons, but another memorable moment is when I was trying to decide what to about something and I was feeling twisted up by the past. 

He smiled at me and said,  "Guess what?  You're free!  You can do whatever you want!"

Here I am with my wild hair, in my wild studio, earlier today.  

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As for the title of this post, Lady Gaga has a song called "Hair" in which she says: 

"I just wanna be myself
And I want you to love me for who I am
I just wanna be myself
And I want you to know, I am my hair

I've had enough, this is my prayer
That I'll die living just as free as my hair"

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My hair really is free these days and it's pretty great.  

Hard Reset

I checked out of about everything and went to the Tetons for a week. 

At the time, I was in a very bad spot, mentally and emotionally.  Not really… “bad”, but… weird, uncomfortable.   I broke down stressed and bawling the night before I left, about so many things… okay, yeah, "bad". 

For a while now, I’ve been telling everyone that things were good and that I’m happy, happier than I’ve been in a long time.

That was (is) absolutely 100% true!  However, I’ve also felt like I’m drowning.  I feel freer, more accepted, loved, and supported than I’ve been in a long, long time (forever?).  But… well, I won’t trot out all of the reasons and excuses why I felt like I was drowning.  Now I feel the simple answer is that I was, pardon me for saying, lost in my own bullshit. 

This Tetons trip had been a dream for years.  I almost talked myself out of it, several times, but I went.  It was long days in the field with a good friend who is a professional photographer and some of her fellow photographers.  I wasn’t sure what to expect: I was sure it would be fun, it’d be good to see my friend again after several years, maybe I’d take a few pictures, before I returned home to my mess (literally and figuratively).

Instead… I came back on fire to get to work, handle my, uhem, bullshit, and get back to what’s important to me.  After getting home late last night and passing out, I was up and cleaning my disaster of a studio at 6am this morning and I've only come to a pause now, at nearly 5 pm, to write this post that's been swirling in my head. 

I think this was in part due to the time away, but also time with a good friend, and several other lovely, supportive, and creative people, that I now consider friends.  It was long days from before sunrise to after sunset in a breathtakingly gorgeous area - mountains and aspen trees feed my soul.  It was extensive time and freedom to play with changing lenses on a camera (for the very first time), messing with settings, taking pictures of moose, pronghorn, elk, birds, squirrels, trees, sunsets, and sunrises.

It was sitting for an hour or more - I have no idea, it doesn't matter - in near silence with a resting herd of pronghorn and realizing only now that I was nowhere else during those quiet moments than right there sitting in the sage, behind a small pine tree.  My mind didn't wander, I had no anxiety, fear, panic, or uncertainty.  

It was also choosing to listen to audible most of the way there and back.  I started with a tried and true kick in the butt titled "The War of Art" by Steven Pressfield.  I've read it once or twice in the past and listened to it at least once before.  I wanted a refresher.  In re-adding that to my library, I discovered a couple of sequels.  I also added a few other books by other authors that caught my eye. 

In addition to a bit of music, here's what I listed to on the drive there and back (2,000 miles and change).

Picture from Audible

I hesitate to say that "I'm back!" (whatever that means) but I do feel that I can fully acknowledge that I've fallen prey to Resistance (from "The War of Art") over and over and over again, particularly during the last year.  I do not want to lose the momentum that's carrying me through today.  One day at a time, I plan to keep going, focusing on what's important to me, and staying aware of how I can trip myself up (oh, there are so many ways). 

The author of "UnF*ck Yourself" also has other books, including a companion book to it with a workbook to dig deep into your life and... well, unf*ck things.  I listened to part of that book on the last leg of the trip and I'd like to chip away at the workbook.  He is Scottish and reads his own books in an entertaining and engaging way (Steven Pressfield reads his, too, and is great).  He had me laughing and also just going "wow..." at some of the uncomfortable truths I recognized - while I also marveled at how different his coaching is from others.  I have tried several "self help" type books over the years, but these 4 books are, in a word: refreshing.  They are a gut punch, but it's a good one. 

I needed it.  

Pictures of Old Pictures

Yesterday, I received a small padded envelope in the mail from my Aunt.  She told me she had sent me some pictures she'd found while going through Granny's things.

(Remember to give Thangs)

Two stacks of pictures:

This one is funny and also has a bit of trivia.  My mom was a river rafting guide at one point.  I'm pretty sure I'm modeling one of their shirts here:

Oh, I had forgotten about this.  My Granddad set a trap to catch wild birds.  It was a bird cage propped up on a stick, with a pull string tied to it, and a trail of birdseed going in.  We caught a few of them, looked at them, and then let them go.  He was always so interested in nature and sharing it with me.  I was really excited by the whole thing.  (I'm wearing my Granny's coat)

Wearing Granny's coat again, riding a stick horse?  I think - and wielding a stick as a sword.  Granddad actually made me a proper wooden sword at one point and I would gallop around in battle, whacking sagebrush with it.  

No idea, me in school at some point it looks like!

My mom bred and showed dogs, American Staffordshire Terriers at first and later, Maltese.  I was a Junior Handler and went to a few shows with a young Maltese named Sugar.  Here I am at one: 

Posing with Granny:

Clowning with Granny:

On the way home from the dog show, Granddad and I stopped to study some llamas along the road.  Here, I wanted to touch one.  The llama did not want to be touched.  Thankfully, we did not get spit on.  

I went camping and fishing quite a bit with Granny and Granddad and a few times with just Granddad.  Here I was displaying our catch of fish:

And clowning around with the fish.  

I noticed something in looking through all of these pictures.  I'm not sure I've ever liked having my picture taken.  Even as a kid, I seemed to have a few default looks: "oh no, a camera", maybe with a forced smile - completely goofing off for the camera - or somewhere in the middle, maybe when I didn't know the camera was there (or was really excited by something like a turtle).   

Exploring a lakeshore - "Oh no, a camera"

Fishing - "Oh no, a camera"

Dressed up for Halloween - "Oh no, a camera"

And so on, haha.

The same Halloween with Granny.  I can't remember what I was supposed to be, I think I went as some sort of 80's rock/pop star a few times.  

Skipping ahead some years, a 4 generations picture.  From the left:  Me, my Aunt Annie, Granny, and Granny Margaret (Granny's mom).

And back to kid me.  I found this turtle while walking with Granddad.  I picked him up, turned him around to look inside, and almost dropped him when he snapped at me.  I carried him back to the house to show Granny (then let him go).

The back of that picture:

A picture of Granddad and I on a camping/fishing trip:

Wait, what's that??

I had taken two Breyer horses with me!  After studying the picture in bright light (they are TINY in the photo), I recognize them and still have them both.  The light dapple grey PAS and grey appaloosa FAS.  This was a super fun discovery to make while looking at the pictures.  

Last one, Granddad and I having breakfast out of the back of his truck at a campsite:  

We often took his cab over camper, but at least once or twice we just set up camp in the bed of the truck with a camper shell over it, for shorter, local campouts. 

I miss those trips, Granddad, and Granny, more than I can say.  I'm so glad my Aunt Annie sent me these pictures.  

I Feel So Blessed

Maybe this would have been a better post for a couple of days ago, as a Thankful Thursday, but I don't think we need to only be grateful on certain days.  I'm going label it a Thankful post anyway - even if it is Saturday (or Friday in the U.S.).

I just had Bonsai class and it was a lot of fun, it always is.  The instructor is very fun.

On the way home I was hit with a massive wave of what I can only describe as extreme gratitude.

"I'm feeling happy...  Which is a big deal, for me."  Marlin, Finding Nemo.

I think I've used that quote several times, but it applies again, today.  I think overall I'm a fairly happy person or I try (really hard sometimes) to be anyway.  There's certainly plenty enough in the world, and even in life closer to home, to feel unhappy about, but I try and choose gratitude whenever I can.

I'm happy because The Jennifer Show is happening, very soon!  T-minus 12ish hours or so?  I'll be asleep for most of it, time difference and all, but I'm already eager to wake up tomorrow and see how it went/how it's going!  Thanks to modern technology, even though I can't be there, I can still be a part of it.  Also, HUGE thanks to my friend Dayle - my very first model horse friend going WAY back - who is ensuring I can be even more a part of it than just an outside observer.  She is the one proxy showing some of my little creations and buying my raffle tickets for me!  I'm so thankful for her.  Even though I'm quite sure my ponies will get their butts thoroughly kicked, I'm still happy that I will have been some part of this EPIC show.

I'm happy that I was able to beat the nap and get a big batch of photos sent in to another MEPSA show!  This time I'm stepping out from the Mini Specialty zone I've been in and I entered the Vintage Special!  A bunch of my old childhood favorites are making their debut - or returning after almost 20 years - to the photo show arena.

I'm happy that my birthday is in a couple of days and today my good friend Holly is coming over with presents and cake!  She is a great friend and I'm so blessed to have met her over here.

Sometimes I think I don't deserve such good friends - but enough of that, this is a happy post!

I'm thankful that I live in Japan and have the opportunity to experience a different culture and language.  I'm thankful for the Bonsai class and the wonderful sensee who teaches it.

I'm thankful that when I had to face one of my worst fears two days ago (at the dentist) they were so wonderful and took such good care of me - even with me crying like a baby and making a fool of myself.

Of course, I am ever thankful for Jeff, my husband, who always tries his best and takes good care of me.  It's not always smooth sailing, no relationship ever is, but he is truly wonderful.

I could go on and on.  I don't know what I've done to deserve all of this, but I'm so, so thankful.

I feel so blessed and I just had to put it out there.

What Have I Gotten Myself Into? - Again

This seems to be a question I've asked myself a lot lately.  Most recently when I hurled myself in a college Japanese language class.  That turned out well, so maybe this latest crazy adventure will too...?  Oh boy...

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I have always loved to sing.  I grew up in a musical family.  My Granddad sang, played guitar, and harmonica.  My uncle does all of that, fronts a couple of bands, and has a recording studio in his house.  My mom has one heck of a set of "pipes".  She was the lead singer in several bands when I was young and even recorded a demo tape at one point.  She also won singing contests at the professional level.  I grew up surrounded by music and I was singing from an early age.  I've never had any formal training, I just sing what I hear.

At some point in my young adult life, I discovered karaoke.  The first song I ever sang did not go well at all.  I was extremely nervous and didn't actually know the song as well as I thought.  But I practiced, tried again, and ended up loving karaoke.  I've done it off and on over the years ever since.
Along the way I've entered a few singing contests, but have never won anything.  I get the same feedback - after a regular karaoke song or contest...  "Your voice is great, but you need to move around!"  I have such awful stage fright that I stand in one spot, deer in the headlights, or eyes closed, often with my knees shaking.  Despite all of that, I can belt out a song.  To quote Genesis: "I can't dance".

A couple months or so ago I went out with a couple of friends to a local club to celebrate one of their birthdays.  It happened to be karaoke night and I decided to sing.  My new friends here had never heard me sing.  After they had, they - and the two hostesses of the karaoke night - all started pushing me to enter "Misawa Stars" - a singing competition that was being advertised here.

I said, "Nope. No way, no how.  Been there, done that, not going to do it again."

Well...

I'm not sure what I was thinking, but one day I signed up, a week later I did my audition, and...  made it in.  *shocked face*

My audition went the way of all my past performances - or maybe even worse.  I think I was more nervous than I had ever been.  (thankfully it was a closed audition!)  The judges loved my voice, and I guess that alone was enough to get me into the show, but they all told me I'd have to: "own the stage" - "wow the crowd" - "get the audience on my side"... and so on.

I have a little less than two weeks to figure out how to do that.

The whole thing is going to be run like American Idol: including several performances, judges, crowd input, eliminations...

I say again, oh boy.

Horseback Archery

Lately I've suddenly started seeing posts on Facebook from the Mounted Archery Association of the Americas.  I know that I "Liked" their page quite a while ago, but I think (thanks to Facebook) I haven't been seeing their posts for some reason.  That's too bad, they share a lot of awesome pictures.  Hopefully I'll be seeing their posts now; I went and checked on the "Get Notifications" thing under the Like button, that's supposed to help.

Looking at the pictures they've been posting made me think of the horseback archery that I've done.  It is something I always had an interest in when I was younger, but I'd never had a chance to try it.

Then one summer, a few years ago, a guy came and did a clinic for Plains Indian style horseback archery... right at the barn where I board!

It was a great clinic.  He was doing it for a three day weekend I think, but on the first day Jeff and I were the only ones there, so we actually had the clinic all to ourselves.

For that first clinic, we rode a horse he had brought and used one of his bows.  We started on the ground, learning some history and safety, and shooting from the ground.  Then it was time to hop on a horse.

We learned that there are three basic shots: when you are approaching the target, when you are alongside the target, 

and when you are leaving the target.

I quickly learned that the last one, the parting or Parthian shot, is my favorite.  (It still is!)

When I said that I was interested in trying this someday on Bo, the clinician offered to introduce Bo to archery.  So I brought out my boy.

He started on the ground, letting Bo sniff the bow.  Then he fired a few shot from the ground, standing right next to Bo.  Bo didn't care, he rarely ever does care about much.

Finally he hopped on, bareback, and rode around.

He had a few shots fired off of him that first day, it was no big deal.  

The clinician exclaimed, "I've gotten your horse archery broke!" and we had a good laugh.

Next up, it was Jeff's turn.

He did most of his shots from a standstill since he hadn't ridden a horse much at this point.

The next clinic I went to was at the clinician's ranch that fall.  This one had a few participants.

We started on the ground again and then got on horses.  I had brought Bo and the other two ladies were borrowing horses from the ranch. 

After the clinic, we had a "graduation picture" taken.

The whole clinic had been done riding at a walk, but he told me afterwards if I wanted to try at a faster speed that I could.  So Bo and I did several canter passes while a friend took pictures.  Here are some of the best ones:

This is one of my favorite pictures from the day.  It wasn't until I saw this picture that I really realized what I had done.  Ride at the canter with no hands...!  I never would have thought it was something I could or would do, but when you are doing archery, you are so focused on handling the bow and watching the target, that everything else goes away.  This picture really captured my focus on the target while Bo cantered along.  I had just knocked and arrow and was about to take a shot.

The next year I did go to another one of his clinics, but I hadn't taken Bo so I was using a horse he brought again.  I only have one picture from that day.

All along, I hadn't had my own bow or arrows, so I wasn't able to get in any practice on my own.  I was only able to shoot when I went to the clinics.  The clinician made bows, reproduction Lakota horseback bows, and sold them.  Christmas before last, Jeff bought me one of the bows and six target arrows!

I've had a lot of fun with my bow since getting it.  I've done a lot of practice off of Bo and plenty of shooting from the ground too.  I've helped introduce others to mounted archery too, it is a lot of fun! 

Looking at the pictures from the Mounted Archery Association on Facebook makes me want to go out and shoot some more arrows!