Diary of an Unconscious Mind

My son was born 3 weeks premature weighing in at 4 pounds, 14 ½ ounces. I had just turned 23 when he came into the world, single, and scared and facing something I was not really ready for. My pregnancy was a tough one I got was put on bed rest in my 8 month, during an ultrasound they noticed he was dropping weight rapidly so C-Section it was. He came into this world on a Friday in January my best friend had gone to San Francisco for Christmas and told me not to have him until she came back I did not disappoint her. He was my saving grace, before him I was a wreak living on the edge of a cliff. My mother was wheelchair bound she no longer spoke, my dad was trying to keep it together with this little creature our whole existence change. He was a curious child who had a temper blue fits abound. He didn’t like cartoons, but loved to watch PBS when they showed how things worked. While most kids where playing with cars he was looking through a microscope. Every morning he would wa

I joined Facebook about a year ago because of my niece, she invited so I went. I tried to look up old friends from school, but got sidetracked by life. The beginning of this week I got a message asking me to add a friend and the sky opened up with friends some I haven’t seen in close to 30 years. The picture above is my 6th grade picture it reflects one of the best times in my life. Most of the people in that picture I was in class with from Kindergarten until High School. We knew each other parents, fought over boys, who had the best hair, a gang of misfits. This was my magical time I was the nerdy frizzy hair girl with my Battlestar Galatia glasses, I am the second to the last on the second row right. That picture was a lot better than my 4th grade when my mom decided it would be great to give me a perm. I looked like a French poodle. When I entered 6th grade we started with a teacher who had been a 2nd grade teacher for over 30 years, she would begin our class with the following

This is the finished Valentine Kitty for my brother and his partner. It was the first sock toy I have ever made and though he looks a little messy he was a learning experience. The flower on his collar was one of my mother's favorite ear rings, she always wore them with her polyester red pants and bright yellow polyester shirt. One thing I didn't inherit from her loving a bright wardrobe. In the top photo he is wearing a little note it is as follows: I am a lucky cat Handmade for you both I am stuffed with love Stitched with care And my collar is a little of mom My ring is for my bottom Because the bitch forgot my legs So Happy Valentine's Day May your luck be like love endless Happy Valentine's Day.

I have my mother’s hands; at least that is what my sister says. The short stubby fingers, square fingernails, the translucent skin, I have her hands. My mother framed pictures out of our house during my childhood, this way she could make extra money while staying home with me. I remember the room with a built up table, mat cutter, dry mount machine, and art work from different artist. I lived for the trips in the station wagon which my friends and I called the Batmobile when we went to the local wholesale frame store. I wish I could remember the name of that place I would spend hours with my mom going through the mat board, frames and art, my young mind expanding listening to the sales woman telling me about Matisse, Renoir, Van Gough, and Dali, seeing the beauty in each line drawn with passion, pain and faith shaping me. My mom created beauty in the time she spent choosing the right color mat, building the frame and cutting the glass, those same hands that touched my face to