Just some stream of consciousness...

Stained Glass Eyes

There exists a thread that binds our lives

With precision it pierces inside and slides 

effortlessly through souls, then perfectly ties.

Invisible, Untouchable, Indestructible

A thread, soaring in a stream of love 

Arrayed in lines of blue and gray.

Today, I see with stained glass eyes a truth that can only be read in black and white.

Squinting to gain some sense of sight

A kaleidoscope kind of fight at night. 

Streams of light, so bright

Ignite the plight that can't seem right.

 Stacked in jewels that shimmer alone

But together, they shine in explosions of crystal color. 

Alone they sparkle

But are unstoppable when united

This truth slips through stacks of colored sand

Impossible to understand. 

Not planned. Pained

And it's painted in perfect brush strokes 

Spoken in hugs and smiles and sighs

A truth that cries out in a language we can't translate.

But we wait. 

Earth gives way to seed and grass and in time

 the past is a mist in the distance

A cloud of laughter, a glance, a chance once more

for the thread to soar, or at least for peace. 

The Sick Bug: A tried and true survival guide!

My friend Shannon has been supporting my writing from the beginning. She was the one who gave me that final nudge that I needed to actually start my blog. So, when she asked me to guest write for her I was happy to do so! Check out my post on her blog, My Sweet Wolf , for some real life suggestions to help deal with the winter "icks"! Yes, that's a technical term...read to find out more...The Sick Bug: A tried and true survival guide!

Inspired

I try not to take myself too seriously. But, I guess sometimes life is serious. When things get heavy, the one true outlet I've always had is writing. Words are like Sunday mashed potatoes to my soul. When they come at the right time, they leave me feeling comforted and calm.
(Also, maybe a little fat...the mashed potatoes, not the words)

I realize that poetry is an acquired taste. I also feel like its one of the few art forms where there are more artists than people who appreciate the art, if that makes any sense at all. Nobody visits the Sistine Chapel and thinks "Eh, that's no big deal." But, read someone an intensely personal poem you wrote (IT'S MY MASTERPIECE!! YOU HAVE TO HEAR THIS!!) and they may just react that way. I have this vision where I picture a room full of 400 tortured writers spewing deep personal truths to an audience of maybe 6 people who are half paying attention.

So, to the 6 of you who are half paying attention- please feel free to skip this blog post if it isn't your cup of tea. It's December and I'm reflecting. And my readers get to enjoy (endure??) my reflections. 

INSPIRED

I've been spinning on this sphere

for 32 years

Unfounded fears

It all happens so fast..falling, at last.

At least 

When I fall in my dreams I wake up

Backwards, cascading curls swirling

Tumbling in a heap of glittery stars

...and scars.

My heart is knocking at the walls of my chest

No rest.

Day and night, the pounding pace

Darkness amplifies the bass

The race, the chase

I'll never catch it or even try

to fetch it, faster...

Face it. 

And, the air is so heavy

I feel it bearing down my back 

Relentless and cold

Old shoulders, soldiers

Smoldering with boulders of 

weightless force

Forcing this course

Reflections, remorse

Instantly, in a glass smashing, car crashing

heat rising, ears ringing

birds screaming, tears streaming
skip of a beat...

It will stop being

Lost, nobody tells you the cost

Joy and pain 

Loss and gain

Smiles still remain

We bear the brunt of the days behind us

Chains bind us 

But broken, they're strange

Hoping for change

Trying to arrange for inspiration 

adoration

365 days of elation

Breathe

Find solace in silence

Farewell, red velvet...

We hand pick each and every one of our offerings at Bird in Sea Vintage so they become like precious little children to us. We're just fostering them until they find their permanent home. When I saw this handmade, 1960s treasure on a seemingly normal day of thrift hunting I knew I had found gold. Red. Velvet. Gold. She was jammed in the racks between over-sized shoulder pads and pilly, acrylic sweaters. She was, however, not shy. She practically screamed at me and grabbed my attention. She was pristine. But her metal zipper and bit of exposed, yellow thread told me that she didn't take herself too seriously. We were a lot alike. I named her Holly Berry and we became best friends.

Forlorn...

So, while the purpose of our shop is to..... sell, my heart can't help but tug a little bit when one of my favorites flies off the virtual rack. And, when I got the Etsy notification that Holly Berry had sold I had a moment of joy (Yay! Money!), followed by a moment of (decidedly overdramatic) sadness. 

I contemplated mourning her loss with an evening of red velvet cupcakes and Cupcake brand Red Velvet wine. But, that might be a bit extreme... (Not at all. I'm definitely doing this...) So, to the future owner of perhaps my favorite dress of 2011, congratulations. Please treat her kindly. You don't have to have her in by midnight if you don't want to...in fact, please don't. She likes to party. 

My child is not what you would call a "normal" kid

For anyone who knows my daughter, Lana, the title of this post will not come as a surprise to you. She is the most fascinating and simultaneously the oddest, darkest, most twisted 6-year old I know. I should have known she was going to look at life a little slanted when she had this conversation with my brother at the ripe age of 2 and a half years old:

Lana: Uncle Matt, I scared.
Matt: What are you scared of?
Lana: I scared of triangles.

Normal, right? But, I love it. "Yes", you say. "Every Mom thinks their kid is awesome." And, to this accusation I will give you a pat on the head and say "You're right." But I felt that, in order to support my point, I could present you with a "Best of Lana 2011". I have chronicled some of her strangest moments this year. So, without further ado, I present to you...

LANA'S GREATEST HITS 2011

"No wonder you picked out the name Lana for me. It means log water"
(It does not)
--
Lana: Mom, I know you're allergic to cats. What else are you allergic to?
Me: Nothing, hun. That's it.
Lana: Listen, Mom. I went to Medical School when I was 8. I can help you.
(bear in mind my daughter is 6)
--
In Musical Theatre class:

Lana's teacher: We're going to a party! What is everyone bringing?!
Normal kids: cupcakes! gifts! party hats!
Lana: .....driftwood.
Teacher: Driftwood?! Why driftwood, Lana?
Lana: Because I like driftwood. And then if the electricity goes out, we have something to burn for heat.
--
"Mama, sorry you're sick. Do you think you have the Bieber fever?"
--

"Mama, your arm is kind of like a pancake. You need to work out. You're starting to lose weight and now you need to win weight"
(we really should call it "winning" weight, shouldn't we? spread that one like wildfire)
--
"Gary is really rockin' this party" - Lana, in reference to a friend of ours who fell asleep at a party
--
"I'm gonna miss that little diddle. He was like a son to me."- Lana, in reference to Jesus' death...
--
"Now that's what I call weird!" - Lana, examining a wrench
--
Me: Sometimes people want to do what's right but they still do bad things
Lana: Do you?
Me: Yep! Even Mamas make mistakes, too!
Lana: Welcome to the Dark Side. We've been expecting you. 

And my personal favorite...which pretty much sums it up perfectly...

"Mom, you don't understand. It's like we're living in two different worlds. You're in a world of Unicorns and I'm in a world of Unicorns and Fighting Robots."

Now, if you know me even remotely well, you'll probably say "Lisa, did you really expect to have a normal kid?" to which I'll respond "touche". I'm not exactly what you would call a "normal" girl. And, bear in mind this is the offspring of the man who once had this conversation with me:

Me: I'm so self deprecating.
Ryan: You poop yourself?
Me: No, hun. That's self defecating.
Ryan: Same thing

So, it's no surprise she has some odd things going on in that brain of hers. But, truth be told, I wouldn't have her any other way, driftwood and all. To borrow a line from one of her favorite movies, Alice in Wonderland, my daughter is entirely bonkers. But, I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.

Let me post this while nobody is looking

Hello. I'm Lisa. This is my first blog post. Welcome.

Someone asked me why I named my blog "My Sister's Closet". It's a good question. I've pondered the title for a while. If you've ever been to my twin sister, Lauren's house you may have an inkling as to why I chose this title. If not, let me clue you in on the wonder that is her closet.

Do you need a pair of jeans to wear this weekend? No problem. Do you need 17 pair to choose from? My sister has that for you. Did you want light blue? Dark blue? Something skinny and modern? Something shredded and vintage? Low-waisted? High-waisted? Hold on, she'll go to the back and see if she can find that for you....and she'll come out with three or four pair that all fit the bill. It's that amazing. Unless you want acid-washed jeans. I'm pretty sure she has nothing acid-washed. But my Dad may be able to help you out with that.

Do you need a scarf that matches a mustard colored blazer you just picked up at Goodwill? She'll shuffle through fringed vests, embroidered dresses, and macrame, beaded bags to find you the perfect one...or perhaps the perfect four. You may think some are hideous, but that's ok. She won't take it personally. She'll just explain why she loves it and grab you something else.

And, the wonders of her closet reveal themselves even more fascinatingly when I ask for something extremely specific. For instance, here is a re-enactment of a conversation we recently had...the details may be fuzzy, but you get the idea:

Me: (picks up phone) Ring..Ring...

Lauren: Hey Li! 

(My 2 year old nephew is in the background yelling up a storm or drilling with his little, wooden tool set , or dancing like a crazed lunatic to a song about tractors...)

Me: Emergency! I need a vintage sweater..something cream or pink, and cropped to wear over that black tank dress you gave me. 

(Yes, I understand that this doesn't constitute as an emergency by any stretch of the imagination)

Lauren: Ok, hold on. I think I have something for you! 

(ruffling and jingling through "the" closet)

Yes, I have this little, vintage pink wool one. I also have that cotton one that I bought when we were at Beacon's Closet last fall...Oh yes, wait! You said cream or pink? And cropped? Yep, I have 5 for you to choose from. I'll bring them by tomorrow

Me: Excellent!

(breathes huge sigh of relief at my self-proclaimed crisis averted)

And, it's generally as simple as that! Fortunately she's extremely willing to share, unless it's something she hasn't worn yet. That's usually the rule. Is her closet organized? That depends on who you ask. My sister knows where every little thing is in that glorious 5'x5' space. Now if you ask anyone else to find something in there, I'm not gonna lie. They might have a bit of a problem. And, while I certainly wouldn't call it "organized" it is sorted in a way that makes sense. Maybe not to anybody else, but to her it does. And, that's the endearing part.

The simple answer to the question posed at the outset is that I didn't want to pigeon-hole myself into talking about just one thing. I have been wanting to start a blog for a long time now. A good friend (and fellow writer) told me to stop procrastinating because I was wasting time. She told me I should just write about my life...which seems simple enough, right? I started out thinking this blog was going to be about the Etsy store that my sister and I run together, Bird in Sea Vintage but that's just a small snippet of what I feel compelled to write about. So, there will certainly be vintage-loving posts for our vintage-loving readers. But there will be more.

Like the vintage treasures in my sister's closet, my thoughts are not always organized. But I know where each and every one of them are. And like half of those scarves, you may think some of my ideas are hideous, but that's ok....

Maybe the next thought that passes through my fringed, embroidered, macrame beaded brain will catch your interest.