I tried to capture the moon rising last night. But the moon rose too late around my part of the world an at my altitude. These were my Egg Moon photographs from last year. I’m still incredibly proud of them. – ♥ Paige
*all images are unedited
Paige Six | 4.7.2020
Paige Six | 4.28.2021
So yesterday I enrolled in college almost accidentally, but certainly impulsively!
I’m going to go back to get a science degree in Botany/Horticulture. This is a big shift from my previous physics focus; I’m going to have to take a surprising amount of new courses because of that. But I think I’m good for it. I think my problem with my initial college focus was three things:
₁. I wasn’t happy about the actual practice of the jobs. I am an active person who likes to move around and to change focus. I think working in environments that shift with the seasons will serve my desires.
₂. As a single mother the demand and focus on time away from home simply was unacceptable.
₃. Minimizing debt. I have a stunning amount of education on a very small tab and I intend on keeping it that way. I’m well below the average debt margin for a person my age in America of equal education. While I might have to take on some extra debt I plan on paying courses outright this time around.
I have some real life longevity goals, but first I need to have the credentials to achieve them. So this is my first step. With luck and patience I’ll have my new Associates degree lined up in 2 years, because I plan on taking one-two classes at a time for the more challenging requirements. Because I already spent 3 years at a university I will likely have a good amount of credits accounted for. Basic mathematics, humanities, arts, and language requirements should all be accounted for leaving me the ability to focus on my actual desired course load.
If I decide to take on a full course load I could potentially have the degree in less than a year. But I don’t think it would be wise. I’m not in a rush. I want to have high scores and be able to do this at my leisure. My daughter is still home, and young enough to need me frequently. I also will need to be in school for some of my more focused classes working with the plants or in a lab, so I can’t set myself up for failure by devoting all of my time to school when I know that I will have obligations at home to compete for time with.
On a darker note I had a miscarriage yesterday and no it’s not my first. While I’m not trying to get pregnant by any means, I have to admit that it was a strange and sad way to wrap up what was turning out to be a very optimistic day. I’ll keep my head up, of course. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d gone back to school only to find out that I was expecting again.
I went a long time in my life without ever getting pregnant, and not for being careful. I don’t know why now all of a sudden I keep being thrust into the hormonal whirlwind of it. Sometimes it really feels as if the whole world paused while I figured myself out and now that I’ve become more comfortable in my skin it’s fast forwarding, everything is all happening at once.
Ultimately an unexpected pregnancy was what stopped my training for the military in 2019. Granted it was the first in a succession of unfortunate events not the least of which being COVID and losing my beloved job. 2021 is looking to be just as wild and unpredictable as it’s preceding year, which was just as trying as the year before that in my life. It was 2 weeks after my wedding that I found out and frankly my body hasn’t been the same since.
Every year people make resolutions, but I like to meditate on a word. In 2019 my word was Discipline. In 2020, I was so broken up about the death of my mother that I didn’t pick a word. And in 2021 my word was Remain. I think I picked that for 2021 because 2020 was the first time in my life that I actually wasn’t on the run from or to something. I had a creative renaissance in my late 20’s and 2020 allowed me to live in it, without having to play strange geometric scheduling puzzle games with my time.
I came out of 2020 knowing that I am ready to start making decisions. Not because I had to (because I don’t have to change a thing), but because I know myself well enough to start cementing my foundation. Perhaps many people will think I’m too old for that. But my time was never my own until now, and so I unapologetically have gotten to know myself better. I didn’t live for a boss. I got off of the internet for a year and didn’t chase ‘likes’, ‘comments’, or popularity. I started my own website, I drafted my own books, I started my first novel, and created freely.
Now I’m going to try and make a new dream come true. I hope with this education to do many things. But most of all, I hope to find balance, wonder, and to make the world a better greener place.
for fifty days i fasted,
save the retching of my own flesh,
save the pit of my own stomach.
for your arrival safely we sold
our cattle, fashioned a festival
our first kiss –a first sip of wine
on the day break of Pentecost,
at last my fast was over.
we fashioned circles of precious metals
and strung them around each other’s
vena amori, declared forever in a vacuum
proclaimed endurance upon the coming
event horizon of time itself.
space swells with the ancient ruins
of men and women who shed tears
tracing the constellation trails
from one end of an ocean to another
filling the void of voiceless oceans
with metaphoric rapture and appetite
Charles, the smell of desert sand swims
firmly between your pores,
your body warm as the land
cut like mountains
between your biceps
where my head lays
basking in the moments
you are here.
how i adore you so.
enter matrimony – eyes wide open
place his heart upon a pedestal
let no slanderous word nor malicious canticle
seduce his woefully mortal heart.
roots and petals of calendula
poultice to quell the spasms
you take me in my blood
and i take you in my arms
when the nightmares hurt
worse than the back pain.
you remind me that even in the winter
the carmine-colored cardinal coos
and whistles, awakens the trees and fills
the cold world with sweet song.
i’m unraveled in your high collar,
blue and burned in a freak fire,
raptured by the desert
nothing is forever, we know,
yet everything is possible.
there is no going back.
on this river of time
except maybe we’ll escape
the event horizon burn
as radiation about
the black hole’s radio halo.
dying light is a subjective notion
when you limit every poetic persuasion
to the limits of the human eye.
we weave honey, orange citrus, & marmalade
into spacetime tapestry,
devote each second
as the present is our own reward
the art of being in love,
the pleasure of being alive.
the future is a metaphor –
as in calling the ocean endless
naming riptides undertow
we: new and other molecules
blur into water, two bodies
one brackish soul.
–six pm | *after easter
I became in a family way when I was 17. My foster mother started to accuse me of sleeping with her jobless boyfriend and changed the locks, leaving me to sleep outside many nights when they went out to clubs. I reported it to services, my teachers, and my nurses. I told my health teacher that I felt the stress affecting my child. I trusted him, I had no one. He told me not to worry.
At 30 I began to explore epigenetics and the research suggesting that trauma can be passed down through generations. Epigenetics translates literally to “above genetics”, referring to external modifications to a person’s programming. I say programming because that’s how it makes sense to me. If you’re familiar with binary, how the 1’s and 0’s turn lines of code on or off, outside forces can do this to traits within us, turn them on and off.
If you’ve created a child at any time, the 1’s and 0’s within you get passed down as they exist in that moment. In short: these modifications do not change the DNA sequence, but rather, they affect how cells “read” genes. I think about the shared trauma in the world and how it’s sinister nature infects the future; contaminates quite literally the gene pool. Ignorance is certainly not bliss.
Paige Six | 2021
Since mankind’s dawn, man has
gotten many things wrong.
Maybe there was an Adam,
and from his rib an Eve.
Perhaps the serpent
bestowed a gift,
the morning knowledge
Cast from the garden,
the two faithfully grew.
When Eve grew cold,
Adam grew brave,
slaying beasts to give Eve
When they grew old
Adam grew ill, they
both laid still; and
died in one another’s
Many, since times considered
ancient by most, believe
their love story to be
the greatest ever told.
But, I love the one
we’re in the most.
It goes back quite
an extraordinary distance…
(Four Hundred Ten Years ago, to be exact)
When Galileo Galilei
polished the first telescope…
On a (crystal) starry evening,
from pin pricks within
casting of vanta black,
Jupiter dances with dots
of doting moons about
his waist. And rings cuff
Saturn as perfectly as
our wedding bands
complete our wedded
Oh! And (of course)
as we both already knew,
at the center of the
universe, Galileo found
You inspire greatness!
I hope you understand this.
Michelangelo crafted colors
inspired by (just) the gleam
in your eyes. Magellan circled
the globe uncharted,
guided by the lateral lines
of your smile.
Albert Einstein’s brilliance
knew no boundaries!
He alone unlocked countless
mysteries. With accuracy he
hypothesized that magnetism
married electricity. Scholars
(of course) lacked his vision,
however. They all believed
Einstein spoke purely scientifically…
But we know better, don’t we?
Einstein prophesized our matrimony.
Strung by silver threads,
stitched into the flowing quilt of time.
(I know) All become one at
your desire. (And I know)
The entire dimensional world
will collapse, the eve you expire.
As you alone command every star to die;
demand they collapse into fiery fractals,
facing blazing extinction, eons away
(and so so long ago)…
So we may dance tonight beneath their light. -six pm
It’s a rainy Spring morning in New England and you’ve got both an oversized mug and time to kill. Your mug is porcelain white, but pained a bit at the lip (from accidentally dipping a paintbrush in it a few too many times). You think the paint blends in with the coffee splotter, anyway, and tell yourself that perhaps it gives the cup some personality (happy accidents).If you hold the handle with your left hand the World might read a tiny type-face script in Peace Lily Green that says “𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚖”. But you’re a righty and you’ve purchased the mug for yourself, anyway, so the little green letters greet you happily with every fleetingly warm sip.
You are a bookworm, so you read a book. It’s the best way to spend a grey morning. You like to save the sunny days for tidying and cleaning, they don’t have the proper blue hue to offset the warm beige of a book page, and you like any excuse to fire up the heated mattress! But you never read very far, do you? How many lines do you fight down before the urge to pen a note turns into a whole notebook page of poetic expressions?
After hours of what feels like total procrastination you say to yourself, “I’m not a bookworm at all, I’m a fraud!”—The day gets away from you and you shelve that book feeling defeated, and prepare to edit that poem for your Poetizer.
You’re a slithering writer who finds relevance to yourself in every line you read that mirrors something extra-terrestrial, or ultra-cosmological, or incredibly mundane… Doesn’t matter, you’re in it, you’re there! But that’s alright!
Lately I’ve been reading a wonderful book on writing, it’s called Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, and for the first time I feel the permission to write without the guilt of finishing, and of order. Sometimes (most of the time) I’m too analytical and I forget that sometimes taking divergent paths is a way to grow.
The irony that I find these things in structured books could be a peculiarity to me but I don’t think it is. What’s most appealing to me about Goldberg’s book, so far, is that as opposed to other great books on the writing process (On Writing by Stephen King is a favorite of mine), is that Natalie speaks to the poetic process frequently.
I highly recommend. (*sips cold coffee*)