All photos and content © Tanya Anguita.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive #58 -- 12/29/10

Until last week, it had been so long since I'd written anything that I'd begun to worry that I'd forgotten how.

Everything has been about "busy" these past couple of months.

Busy trying to find a place to live.
Busy packing.
Busy moving.
Busy dealing with health concerns.
Busy rehearsing.
Busy working.
Busy with Dickens Fair.
Busy, busy, busy, busy, busy...

And somewhere in there, I began to be frightened that I'd misplaced my Muse, and I was really missing her. I was scared that I'd lost my writer's voice and I was pining for it. I think I'm finding it again and thank goodness for that. Without it I feel lost and lonely...disoriented and directionless.

It soothes me to write. It lets the howling demons out and releases them to the wilderness outside of my soul. It gives me solace and relief. It quiets the internal landscape, leaving it greener, and more luscious with a chorus of simple birdsong and trickling creeks as the soundtrack instead of the tempest that sometimes brews in my mind, threatening to consume me.

Writing allows me to process ancient hurts and fresh thankfulness. To work through the scar tissue and to heal fresh wounds. It gives me leave to put my joys and sorrows somewhere outside of me so that I can more clearly think. It is the channel to my most honest self and it stills the noise that can become so deafening when I'm struggling.

I wrote a piece a few days ago that was fraught with hurt and anger. Old hurts from the summer of 2009 had come to the forefront rather suddenly and were banging on the walls of my psyche. I had to write the piece. I had little choice. It came out of nowhere and sideswiped me as I sat down at my computer. It was brutal and pain filled and it wanted out...NOW...urgently and with a force that was overwhelming. I had little choice but to write it or be eaten by it. I chose the former.

It is interesting, isn't it, to find out that hurts we think we've dealt with, healed from, passed through, are still lurking in strange corners of our emotional memory...waiting there in the dark with sharpened teeth to bite us when we least expect it?

I am not fond of these surprise attacks, but I would rather have those feelings pour out of me and onto paper, than in me...gnawing on my spirit.

I have a lot to be thankful for tonight, but I'm tired so will keep it short. To that end, I sing my gratitudes as follows:

1) I am deeply thankful for the ability to pour my thoughts and emotions out onto paper. For the gift of written release. For the still place that I go to when I write, and for the clarity and relief the written word gift me with.

2) I'm thankful for the light and the dark that live inside of me. Both help me to be the person I am, and to write the way that I do.

3) On some odd level, I realized tonight that I'm thankful for the insight my depression affords me. It makes me more patient and more compassionate. I've seen and lived in the basement of my soul and can therefor understand, on some level, the struggles of others in my life. Without it, I'm not sure that I would be able to understand with an open heart the sorrows of others.

4) Cups of tea and true conversation with dear friends. Makes my soul sing. Thank you, Laura. :)

5) Photographic learning curves. Spent the day trying to photograph jewelry for my dear friend, Joshua. I learned a lot, and hope that I got some shots that will be usable for him. His Etsy site is here:

6) A warm place to sleep on a cold winter night. I do not take this for granted and I am So thankful. So very thankful.

7) Not having to go to work tomorrow.

8) Having time to edit a couple of photos from my March trip to NYC. See below. :)

8) Wanting to keep writing these but knowing that I need to sleep and being smart enough to recognize that. Hee hee!

Good night! :)

Why yes, that is Anubis on a barge heading towards Manhattan. Why do you ask? *grin*

Yep. :)

The hand of Liberty.

Liberty's Backside

Thursday, December 23, 2010


you have abandoned me
without a word

your silence is a scream of disdain--
a cruel coldness
on a winter night

godspeed wherever you are.
i wish you comfort

my heart strains to hear yours
over the rift in my soul,
waiting like a deaf hound
for the command that will never come

godspeed wherever you are.
i wish you joy.

my comprehension of your actions,
like the coat of a newly-shot dead man,
is tattered,
full of holes.

my hurts coagulate around each
open wound where the
smoking pistol of your unkindness
dug into my tender heart
right before you pulled the trigger.

godspeed wherever you are.
i wish you contentment.

i used to think you kind and beautiful;
incapable of intentional meanness,
gentle in your entirety,
and good

now i see i was mistaken

you are, instead,
gifted in the art of passive heartlessness,
a bard well-versed in the song of the damning,
who has left me
damaged and done.

godspeed wherever you are.
i wish you love.

© Tanya Anguita

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The Moon Wore Red

The Moon puts on a little red dress
and heads out to light up the night.

Slinky in scarlet and sensuous,
she's flirting with the midnight stars,
shaking her winter hips
as she dances circles
around the Storm Cloud's
ineffectual minions;
laughing merrily
at their pathetic attempts
to cover her shining beauty.

A sultry smile lights her
half-shadowed face
as she glides across the sparkling floor
of the Mid-Winter sky.

She hasn't felt this sexy since 1648
and no one is going to ruin it for her tonight.

Sauntering up to the bar,
she orders a round of Longest Nights
for everyone in the Northern Hemisphere,
gives a Red-Dress-on-a-Solstice-Night-shimmy
and welcomes in the New Year
by belting out the 12-bar-blues version
of "Welcome Yule"
to her waiting fans
as she toasts their tenacity
after a long, hard year.

The Devil may wear a blue dress, my friends,
but tonight the Moon wore red.

© Tanya Anguita

Friday, December 17, 2010

Arrows of Clarity

Arrows of clarity
are hurled across the bow of a ship
called Your Resistance;
shot there
to pierce your bound up heart.

Darts of openness
are flung across the hull
in an attempt to crack the hardened shell
that keeps Love out.

Broken by brokenness,
what you want most is healing.

Throw your anger overboard!
It no longer serves you.

Release the coiled anguish
that is tangled,
like so much matted twine,
around the coral reef of your heart!

Extricate the venom of all-consuming hurt
that encases your willingness
like a shroud,
and spit it out
like the vile poison that it is!

Untwist the distorted,
pain-filled knot
that binds you to your fears;
holding you down while you drown in them!

Unravel the restraints
that keep you tied
to the cracked and crumbling mast
of the role of observer
which distances you
from any real feelings;
keeps you separate
from your life.

Find your honesty.
It is the life jacket that will rescue you.

Own your truth.
It is the lighthouse that will guide you.

Allow yourself to climb,
into the waiting lifeboat
of hard earned happiness.

Kick against the crashing waves
of your self-destructive habits.

Decide that you are tired
of choking on the the roiling waters
of your deepest sorrows.

Make obeisance
to any god that will listen
and believe
in your ability to swim.

© Tanya Anguita