Lost Glove 36

Lost Glove 36

Lunken Airport

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Lost Glove 35

Lost Glove 35

Sharon Woods

C.A. MacConnell

Poem, Prayer Request. Photo, Mirror Horse.

Mirror Horse
Lexington, KY

A poem from the archives, one of my favorites. Hope you like it. Trouble getting going today, one of those days. <3 Hope your day is happy, joyous, freeeeeeee. :)

Prayer Request

Last night, I got kidnapped.

I was trapped

inside a hot

sanctuary.

I was shifty

in the church pew –

a cramped place

I have never called home.

Last night, I got lucky.

I discovered
a blank stack

of prayer request paper.

Three by five,

I drew you wearing suns.

I’ve never seen you like this,
but that's the way I always

picture you.

I drew me next to you.

I was reaching

for your middle.

I drew a taller me –

wild-haired,

stick hands nearly touching

the place where your belt

should be.

My fingers got lost

between your loops.

I've never seen me like this,

but the pencil made me

a lead-grey, dipping,

V-necked dress.

Your mouth

was a line.

My mouth

was a circle.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: FB Friday

Me + Kylin

A few years back. Today is the anniversary of losing my little guy. I love you. I miss you. 💞 That's all from me today...it's gonna be a beautiful day. I will celebrate life and love.

C.A. MacConnell

A Love Like That

Yesterday, I listened to a podcast about a couple on a post-college, cross-country adventure who survived "the worst day ever." They were trying to camp near Mt. Rainier, but in the process, they faced a flash flood that barely missed their tent, stomach problems (this part was pretty funny), bad directions that led them over a terrifying bridge and along a steep ledge (also rather funny and tense at the same time), power outages, no vacancies at several hotels (or too-expensive rooms), soaked sleeping bags, trouble finding food, and on and on, you name it.

Nothing seemed to work out.

I was completely engaged in the story. In the past, I spent some time hiking around Mt. Rainier, and that drew me in, but also, I was intrigued by their history and hope. See, they had already been together for many years and not long after this hilarious adventure, they ended up getting married.

What was so interesting about the story were the dangerous events, sure, but also, I was moved by the way that they worked together, supported each other and despite wrong decisions and setbacks, they still came together in the end. They lived on, carried on, and from the sound of the man's voice, they grew closer and closer. Rad.

They never gave up. And not once did they ever even entertain the idea. A love like that is divine.

And a love like that comes to us in many ways -- through friends, lovers, coworkers, family, and animals. Listening to their story reminded me of this:  the way we come together, the way we find each other, the way we love and carry on...there must be something greater out there. I pray, and I believe, but I need reminders, and this was a doozy.

The soul is a curious thing. I am grateful for any and all soul connections. They're what make this life worth living, in my book. So perhaps "the worst day ever" can be a miracle in disguise.

Hope you hear me out there. You are a star, and so am I.⭐🌟😍
C.A. MacConnell

Back in the Bedroom

Back in the bedroom, she

Turns gray in the yellow
Light. Today,
Under cover, she is deeply
Buried.

Smoking, dying, getting

Off

The best
She can. Words come easy --
So
Real,

That was,

And wide open --

Here lies her starving heart.
Such a clean
Party --
Flat on the back,
And the nasty
Clock is stuck on the stupid beat of

One.

Post-
traumatic. Good enough.
Shaky hands,
Headache, please, fuck you.

Right now, someone tells her that all she needs
is air.
Right now, someone tells her that all she needs
is everything.

There is a place we call
Up there,
and a place we call
Down below, and somewhere in
Between,
Lives a human,
A canine,
Vicious desire,
And a small, empty

House
For sale.

Hold her hand when you take her
To the showing.
Make sure the lights are
On.
Make sure it is brick
Or stone.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Drummers.

Drummers

Northside, OH

Look for the miracle, the truth, the light.✨🌟Regardless of what others think, when you get quiet, what is your heart telling you?
C.A. MacConnell

Chasing the Hole.

Fresh off the presses, from my heart to yours. Love to you, C.A.

Chasing the Hole

Truly, I'm in a strange situation. I'm working at a farm, doing barn work. That's not the weird thing. I've done that kind of work my whole life. But what's weird is that thirteen years ago, I was the assistant trainer at this very same barn for many years. And while the head trainer was out of town -- two different ones over time -- I was completely in charge of about forty horses, the riders, the vet appointments, the farrier, the lessons, the riding, everything. At one point, my boss said, "You're doing everything, so I'm firing myself," and he laughed his deep, belly laugh like he always did. I miss you, buddy.

So now, years later, here I am, cleaning stalls, scrubbing buckets, turning horses out, working rather anonymously, watching things go down. The horses are different, the people are different, the lake is bigger, and part of the barn has been renovated, but much of it is the same, such as the three rings, the fields, and the paddocks.

So they hired me to do barn work, but the whole time I'm there, I notice things that I would normally take care of, such as this:  one horse was blanketed with mud on him, which is a bad idea, as they can get skin fungi and such (his was already starting). One rider was leading her horse in from the field, getting ready to ride him, and he stopped and jerked his head at his stall. She jerked back at him angrily, leading him to the grooming stall to tack him up, oblivious to his needs, focused only on her personal mission. I wanted to tell her that the reason he did that was because he wanted to go in his stall to pee. Another horse had his splint boots on the wrong legs. (I did say something on that one, as they can pull a tendon that way).

I notice such things the entire time I'm there. It is extremely difficult to be quiet, but I carry on, do my chores, and stay out of the way. Why am I not going for a trainer job? Well, it's kind of like getting a good part in a play or film, I imagine. People have to know your name. I've been out of the game for a while...although I've continued to ride and dabble in it, but I've been out of the "scene," so to speak. To them all -- the other trainers, the riders, the owners -- I'm just some girl who tells stories.

It is what it is.

I thought I would enjoy the environment, and I do enjoy the work, but every time, I drive home with an enormous lump in my throat. I miss the riding, the people, the old horses. I miss being respected, teaching, my slew of students. I used to ride all morning and teach all evening at this place.

So where does that leave me now? I would like to ride again for fun. I'd love to have a few horses to train. That's about it. I don't have the desire to be a big-time show trainer or run an entire barn. I'm too old and not that motivated. Guess I'd like to show some, but I mostly miss bonding with one or two creatures, closely. BUT...another voice inside of me says this:  it's time to let it all go, completely. If it's meant to come back, it will. If not, life will go on as it should.

I guess I've been revisiting this place for one reason only -- to realize that this whole time I've been chasing something that's not even there. Chasing the hole, so to speak. The people and horses I knew are gone. It's all been gone a long, long time. I guess I needed to go there and see the land to realize these truths. Imagine going back to a place where you were a professor for years, only to be hired as the maintenance staff.

Very strange. Will I go back? Well, I went today. See, Jeep, the badass gelding, so far my favorite, and twenty others were counting on me.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Leaning

Leaning

Mason, OH

 No words today, other than this:  to myself, and to you, Only 💗.

C.A. MacConnell

Turnout

  

Dark Horse
Camp Dennison, OH

Wrote this just now. Thinking about accepting uncertainty, one of the hardest things for me! C.A.

Turnout

I'll take him.
Just so you know,
out of nowhere,
this one -- the black --
may rear up
the tenth time
you lead him out
to the field.
He could get loose.
He could tear across
the property
and barrel down
Route 48.
He could strike
at the air
with his front hooves,
his preying nails,
aiming for you,
and then settle
back down.
Or he might walk
like a baby
with a relaxed lip.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Lost Glove 34

Lost Glove 34

Gorge Trail

I'd sure miss this glove, wouldn't you? See the XXX?💞

C.A. MacConnell

The Body Carries Us Whole

I admit that I like to perform – to speak or read in front of crowds. I find that these types of experiences energize me but ironically, I also have a strong internal critic that's a real bear. Every day, I fight it, and I’m sure everyone experiences this negative dialogue to an extent -- some worse than others. When it gets bad, I call people, walk, move, move, move. Riding horses used to help me a great deal. Baths, meditating, being with animals, being with nature, helping others, enjoying art, sex, laughter, acting like a goofball -- all of these things provide temporary relief.

Or I write to you.

As it is for so many, facing the self-esteem issue has been a long road for me. As a kid, I had no real solution for my severe depression. Desperately, my mind sought an outlet, and my brain latched on to my self-esteem, my physical self, and my ability to achieve, and there was (and is) a real, constant beating.

Well, the other day, I was listening to the radio, and I heard a writer talk about her body view. She told the story of when she visited a California nudist place and at this particular one, when she ventured into the sauna and glanced at the other women, she thought that they all had nearly "flawless" bodies, in terms of society's stereotypical external standards. From the Midwest, the writer had given birth to two children, and she knew she was fuller figured than any of the women there. At first, she felt like she didn't fit in at all, but then she thought about how each supposed "flaw" on her body actually represented a piece of her life story.

True, she wasn't living in a perfectly healthy way, but she had the following sudden internal revelation: if she hated her body, she also hated all of the experiences through which her body had carried her. As the heat sank in, she thought back over her life; she began to honor the ways that her body told her beautiful tale. Maybe she hadn't had time to tone up like she wanted to, but that was because she was present to raise her children and watch them grow. She hadn't always treated her body well, but it still continued to perform for her. Without retaliation or resentment, her body had selflessly continued to give back. It represented who she was, and she realized that she had to love this outside shell in order to honor her whole being. If she were going to feel complete, she knew she had to forgive herself and love the physical form that had carried her on her journey thus far.

Listening, I thought about the ways that I've daily picked apart my body. But these strong arms, strong legs, and good balance kept me safe while riding horses for many years. And later, this body carried me through yoga. My body has carried me through great trauma, as well as great healing. With this body, I have given talks to thousands of people. With these arms, I have hugged many people and animals. Maybe my voice or smile helped someone laugh. Maybe I helped to save a life. The woman’s words echoed in my mind. If she hated her body, she also hated all of the experiences through which her body had carried her. I was reminded that my body is a vessel that represents the richness present in my life and with this physical self, I have felt and expressed love, and isn’t that why we are here?

Juliet

Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Fall Sharon.

Fall Sharon

Sharon Woods

Today,
C.A. MacConnell

Paper

Kid hopes.
Silent screens are forever
mean.
Next comes the true
type
face.
I lick the finger,
turn and
turn
the page.
My apologies
to the trees.
I drink the print -- let it always be
black.
Off-press hot,
I am brilliant.
I am exposed.
I am brittle and stupid.
Sand.
Everyone's
laughing.
When I think of you, I taste
paper.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Jeffrey's Bench

Jeffrey's Bench

Miami Meadows

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Barn Aisle

I got a writing gig (finally!!!!!), and I'm going here to this barn today, in case the paparazzi is interested. Going to this very aisle today. I actually worked here for five years...more than ten years ago. It's totally remodeled now, and the horses and the people are all different, but the fields are the same. Weird. What I remember most -- the way the storms rolled in over the flat land. But the horses started to rustle in their stalls long before I could see the clouds. Smart beasts. Well, most of them, ha. Some have a box of rocks up there. Some are too smart, just like people.

Things are moving and shaking anyhow. Fuck yeah. Should hear more about Book Three's status in the next few weeks. Stay tuned.

Good things make me more nervous than bad things. I know, that's what therapy's for.

Hope you like the shot. Here's to those of us that have a box of rocks up there. Hey, diamonds are rocks. I finished my master's with a 3.95 while half the year was spent in booze factory, and the other half was spent in full-on mania. One of my buddy's, an inventor, a dayum genius, never finished high school.

C.A. MacConnell

I'm Excited, Friends.

 

I don't know about you, but I'm excited as all hell about Jonah Hill's movie, Mid-90s. Hells yeah. I listened to a podcast about it today. Rad. I wish I could get Jonah a copy of THE HOUSE OF ANCHOR, that's for sure. Or just have lunch w/ him...that'd be so fun.

Do you have your copy of THE HOUSE OF ANCHOR yet? I hope you're heading over to Amazon!

Why? I'll tell you ... THE HOUSE OF ANCHOR is a fast-paced, intense, literary mystery set in Seattle in the nineties. Sometimes dangerous and often humorous, this novel is a deep, epic adventure packed with vivid dialogue. The slick use of voice is fresh, addictive, and engaging; it'll stick with you.

NO LIE -- yet another person came up to me today and said this:  "I finished your book. I couldn't put it down."

!!!!!!! Now that's what I'm talking about.

Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell

Bring Her Back, a Poem, and a Photo: MORE

More

Rabbit Hash, KY

A song/poem I wrote a while back. I'm gonna try and chill today. Yesterday I was wound up like a ball of rubber bands. Ha, nothing new. Here's the poem:

Bring Her Back

Remember when no one
cared about saccharin.
Whether or not it can
kill you, the world
sure loves the skinny.

Maybe I worry
that you won't like it.
Maybe I write
that your eyes are dark
just to be safe.

I am half-sleeping
on a brown couch
with a red pillow
and just like you,
I can’t find the bear.

Someone’s winning.
Maybe a pirate
who deserves it.
Maybe some bodysuit
made of teeth and blood.

I could dye my hair
permanent black,
but then the skin stands out.
Winehouse was a genius.
Tattoos can’t bring her back.

Maybe I write
that your eyes are dark
just to be safe.
Maybe I worry
that you will like it.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo: Superstar

Superstar

Wonder what's gonna happen next? :) <3

C.A. MacConnell

Spoon

Spoon

There you were, on your side,
behind me,
temperate
and serenely sleeping.
There I was, on my side,
in front of you,
wintry, twitchy,
suddenly sober,
and awake.

Before you,
I never liked it like that.
After you,
I never liked it like that
again.
Twenty years later,
I still remember
the feel of your weight
on my elbow,
and how I didn’t mind
the ache.

C.A. MacConnell