Weird and Varied Things I’m Into:
(right now. It changes often.)
- Intuitive creation/making (painting, collage, etc.)
- growing and eating real food (no Monsanto.)
- Writing. (I’ve always written, in one form or another.)
- Rocks. (I’m becoming one of those crystal-waving weirdos.)
- Mac stuff. (Can’t help it; fangirl.)
- Dogs. (I have three. They are my children. I am a crazy dog lady.)
- Interactive narratives. (Storytelling.)
- Paleomythology. (More storytelling.)
- All kinds of artsy-fartsy stuff.
- Outdoorsy stuff. (Even if I’m a couch potato.)
- Using this time on earth wisely.
- Archetypes fascinate me.
- So do animals.
You can see more of the weird stuff I’m into, visually, over at Pinterest. It’s a god-awful time-suck, so I try not to hang out there that much. I fail in that. A lot.
I’m kind of a hippy-dippy homesteader type, mixed with a dreadlocked artist type, with a little office supply addict and productivity nerd thrown in. I’ve worked in marketing for years, for companies as small as two people and as large as thousands. (Despite the mistaken idea that I don’t work at all, since I’m apparently cultivating the image of being a hedonistic layabout. I’m okay with that.)
I go in spurts, which sounds dirtier than it is. You’ll see that if you hang around awhile. I write a lot, then I don’t for a while. I make a lot of art, then I don’t for a while. I learn a bunch of new things and get all whipped into a froth, and then I let it all go for a while. It’s fine with me, but makes my blogging kind of sporadic sometimes.
I’m a neo-transcendentalist Quaker, with animist leanings. Fair warning. (And no, I don’t even eat oatmeal.)
I don’t like debate. Advice is fine. Snark and constant negativity’ll get you banned from my life. There’s enough muck in this world without allowing more of it into mine. (And no, that doesn’t mean I don’t listen to opinions other than my own. It means I have boundaries, and will defend them.)
I’m happiest in the middle of trees, with mountains and water nearby. That probably means I should move back to the Pacific Northwest.
I’m in my forties, but my sense of humor has been replaced with that of a fifteen-year-old boy’s, I think. Again, fair warning.
I think that’s about it. For now.
I might actually even organize this mess someday.
(Don’t hold your breath, though. Blue is not your shade.)