Dream Homes & Conscious Choices

"If Barbie is so popular why do you have to buy her friends?"

When I was 8 years old I asked my parents for a Malibu Barbie Dream Home.  I was in awe of Barbie & all the fashionable excellence that she exuded & this particular house had a working elevator in which to house all that GLAM. I mean hello who doesn't have a pink elevator in Malibu? It was pretty much all I dreamt about for months. Hoping, praying that I would wake up on Christmas morning to find that glorious pink palace awaiting my ever eager party planning 2nd grader hands.

 Ok, so to know anything of my parents you would have to know that such a pink display of materialism & superficiality?? Yeh, not really their style.  I would even go so far as to say they were probably horrified, not only at my choice of gift, but also at the thought of having to look at a towering piece of withering pink plastic for many days to come. 

Fast forward to Christmas morning: bleary eyed , barely awake & full speed ahead charging toward the Christmas tree & THERE it stood.  My very own 2 story barbie house. A wooden house. An 1800s farm house handcrafted by my parent's own hands.  No ordinary 1800s farm house, mind you. This was an every detail thought out with great historical accuracy style farm house. Each piece of furnishing (wood burning stove included) carved by my dad & painstakingly painted to perfection. Every piece of bedding & curtain hand crafted & sewn with love by my mom.  Ok, I'm not gonna lie.  I was secretly mortified.  I mean where would Barbie park her corvette??  In the stables?  And what was to become of all those fancy parties I had planned?  Where would we hang the disco ball?  Okok, I reasoned, she would just have to call up her friends on that hand crank phone on the wall instead of the shiny gold one I had seen in the magazine, it would be ok. It wouldn't be the end of my world. Would it?   I could improvise.  I mean, I could glam up a butter churn & a wood pile, couldn't I?  Ohhh mannn, all I could think was how will I face my friends? WHO will ever want to playdate the girl with the weirdo barbie house with NO ELEVATOR??  

And then a funny thing happened,  I began to listen as my parents explained, in great detail, all the features of the house & how they had to sneak away to work on it together every night after I would go to bed & how they just knew I was going to discover their fabulous surprise. I will never forget the look of excitement & joy they had  in hiding this great secret from me for many months & the sense of immense accomplishment they had for their countless hours of hard work. Right then, at that moment, with the wisdom of an 8 year old,  I remember making a conscious decision. I decided to LOVE that house. I was gonna LOVE it no matter what. And I did. Ok, so it was hard in the beginning, but over time I learned that all my friends were actually  intrigued by an 1800s farm house.  Every friend who visited wanted to know "Did they really have to pump their water from a well?" &"is that really what a refrigerator looked like back then?" & "did your dad really carve this bathtub?"  Over the months & the years, I grew to adore that house more than any other thing I owned. And as I watched my friend's plastic palaces begin to fade & wear (even witnessing a barbie elevator breakdown or two)  I realized more & more the value of handmade over store bought & I still own every piece of furniture made with love from that house. I plan to pass it on, along with a lesson I learned that day..

 Love is always a conscious choice.
  I choose it.

Hepburn Hugs & McQueen Dreams

xo

Birdee Bow

Building Railroads...

"between Austria and Italy, there is a section of the Alps called the Semmering. It is an impossibly steep, very high part of the mountains. They built a train track over these Alps to connect Vienna and Venice. They built these tracks even before there was a train in existence that could make the trip. They built it because they knew some day, the train would come."  
Martini  (Under The Tuscan Sun)

Late nights turning into early mornings & inspirational moments in the Ghettostudio with Hey Aviator.  Writing like my life depends on it has always been my game.  My little corner of sanity in the form of pen & paper or pencil upon converse shoe sole or black eyeliner etched upon pizza boxes. Whatever the case may be, when the word gods strike without notice, I fumble around to find whatever necessary to capture the moment. Like trying to capture the effervescence of a firefly with an unloaded polaroid. Yep, it's pure thrill, joy & the passion of my life.  

But,  as much as my friendship with written word is a comfort & a consolation, I find that I am sometimes amiss with the spoken kind.  Ok, not that I would ever be described as a wallflower with seldom voiced opinion, but maybe I've just grown accustomed to the lulling sound of others.. listening intently to the endless offerings of advice, caring compassion & yes always suggestion.  I've come to believe that a voice, no matter how well meaning, can really begin to overtake you if you let it. Slowly, gradually, without warning.

So today I am reminding myself of all the types of voice I have in my possession. 

 so here goes: 

 I have not one but three vocal registers.. Oh yeh

Lower, Middle & Upper 

And in Speech Pathology terms I am also the proud owner of:

a vocal fry register

a modal register

a falsetto register 

& a whistle register 

(yeh try that on for size)

& Not to be forgotten are my ever important resonances:

Head Voice & Chest Voice 

(impressed yet?)

Saved the most important of these for last..

My Inner Voice, 

the one that tells me to follow my gut & listen to my own instinct, Ok, so it's far fetched sometimes, unruly, completely stubborn & it will never have a mapped plan worthy of a

 Rand McNally publication,  

It's still mine & Ima listen to it.

Wishing you a day of tuning out, speaking up

& lots of railroad building

Hepburn Hugs & McQueen Dreams

xo

Birdee Bow 

"No One likes Ringo Starr.. That's What I LOVE about Him!"  Summer (500 days of Summer)
Perception: The process of attaining awareness or understanding of the environment by organizing & interpreting sensory information.

I'm quite familiar with the term perception & until recently I thought I had full understanding of it's true meaning. Throwin' it around in sentences here & there & using it to sum up inexplicable situations hmmmm yeh, but apparently my version of most situations?  Yep, you got.  Just My Own Perception 

It's a crazy concept when you think about it.  The fact that all these signals in our nervous system, resulting from previous experiences, not only lead the way but paint the picture of our very future. I don't mind telling you that I don't like that very much.   So, I'm declaring today CLEAN it OUT & Let it go day.  Going through my preconceived notions & picking through perceptions like last years platform sneakers, argyle cashmere sweaters & a 2008 Juicy Couture track suit or two. Yes, some of them I'll be keeping cause they're dead-on classics, but most of it?
 Goin' right into the proverbial trash can .

Wishing You a Heart Open to New Adventures
& a Summer of Seeing Things In A New Light

& bubbles lots of bubbles

Hepburn Hugs & McQueen Dreams

xo

Birdee Bow

Just Go With It...

"If things start happening, don't worry, don't stew, just go right along and you'll start happening too." — Dr. Seuss

I'm the kinda girl who does a lot of questioning.  Y'know, from the back of the classroom? The one who keeps raising her hand asking all the right things to derive all the correct answers. The "Hows?" the "Whys?" the "Seriously now? how is that possible?" & the all too common "explain please".  I mean, after all, the only decisions worth making are the well thought out, planned & fully educated ones. Anything else would just be nonsense right? Hmmmmm yeh I thought so too. Turns out that's really just a bunch of ..

‎"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells."  Dr. Seuss

   I think Life often has other plans which aren't really too concerned with our heightened degree of questioning skill.  In fact, I would go out on a limb here & say that I think it may be giggling behind our ever pondering backs. Straight up snickering at all these contemplative endeavors.  Ok, so I'm Never gonna be one to relinquish control, it's just not in my genetic makeup, but I do think it may be a  good change of scenery. Y'know, just scootin' over to see where Life wants to take me.  So far?  It's kinda heavenly, kinda like a surprise free bus ride to your all time favorite movie theatre with a coupon for free skittles in your back pocket. 

So I'm wishing you  Less Questions & More Just Go With Its
this summertime.

& skittles. Lots & Lots of skittles ;)

Hepburn Hugs & McQueen Dreams

xo

Birdee Bow