Dear World, I am an introvert…

•April 30, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Dear World…
I am an analytical introvert – you may not know this but it apparently causes problems when people don’t know – so I will tell you.
If you invite me out, and I say no, it’s not because I don’t love you.
If you turn up on my doorstep, and I look uncomfortable, it’s not because you’re not welcome.
If you tell me something and I don’t know what to say, it’s not because I don’t care.
If you are waiting for me to call you, and I don’t, it’s not because I don’t want you around.

I love you, you are always welcome, I care intensely, I do want you around. I will tell you straight out if it were otherwise.
I won’t make apologies for acting in a way that makes me feel comfortable, but I can promise you that what you see as negative qualities all harbour silver linings – that may only be apparent when you most need help, or love, or care, or compassion.

There are reasons people identify as being introverted, usually they are sensitive, analytical or somewhat empathic, and as they grow they learn more and more that their sensitivity doesn’t fit in this world, and they learn to hide it. This is why social situations create a problem for introverts, having to hide those parts of ourselves so that we don’t “wear our heart on our sleeve” is exhausting. It takes a toll on our strength until eventually we need to hide in a pillow fort with someone who loves us until our little flashing life bar is full again and we are stronger. (I think in Minecraft you only need to eat apples for that to happen – if only it were that easy!)

Our analytical superpowers often emerge at a time when we are unsure of where we stand. In the beginning of a relationship for example, we will timeline ourselves, make graphs in our head, create an internal monologue, or just talk to our dogs (who agree with everything that is said, of course) and we will guess at your feelings and why things are going the way they are – the best way to combat this? Be honest, and don’t expect that telling us something one day necessarily makes it true for another day a week down the track. Being analytical and sensitive means we have been exposed to enough feelings to understand the protean nature of a heart or mind.

Our empathic side strikes when you tell us something that incites some kind of feeling (which, lets face it, happens nearly every day for an introvert) and we say NOTHING. At the time. This doesn’t mean we don’t care about your situation. Most times it means you have evoked in us such a  feeling of empathy or awe that we are unable to find the words that express what we want to say, and instead say silent. How to deal with this?? Understand that us saying nothing means that we are feeling BIG THINGS for you. Accept that.

I think these are the issues that have become the most prevalent in my relationships so far, both with friends and lovers. As I said, I won’t apologise for things I can’t change… but enough of my friends understand and have the same issues for me to know that this is not the weirdest part of me.

The good part is there have been recent studies linking us sensitive people to higher IQ’s, and our analytical minds give us a one up on intuitiveness (see below) – if we were a pack animal, we would be prized and protected for our ability to predict danger, avoid threats and intrinsically know when someone is hurt… One day, we may even be the heroes of the story. One day, when enough people recognise that working as one energy will save our future – we will rise and very quietly, save the entire human race from extinction (I dream big.)

But for now, we are humans, and for the majority that means we are in it for ourselves. Unless you want to join me? Just don’t expect me to be able to make it to all the meetings.

The very long answer to the question I was asked today about my divorce…

•August 19, 2013 • 1 Comment

So tonight I’ve decided that instead of sitting here with my cat trying not to drink the last of the wine in my fridge, I will write! This isn’t the standard type of blog post you would find from me, I’m sorry, but chimera and fancy seems to have deserted me tonight…

You see I signed my divorce papers today, and it wasn’t fun. I suppose it’s supposed to be a party, maybe to normal people, it would be. Maybe a different person would have walked out of that office with a smile on their face and the wind ruffling their hair as they proudly and strongly made their way toward the new life they fought so hard for.

I certainly have been asked why I am not jumping for joy.

For me it’s slightly different. For me, someone who thinks too much, someone who finds meaning in everything, someone who is loathe to believe that paper with words is just a piece of paper, it’s different. Those seven pieces of paper are not just pieces of paper with two signatures on the bottom. They symbolise the end of a very long battle, a battle that is impossible to emerge from unscathed.

They are the culmination of nights screaming in heart wrenching agony for hours in a row, of nights huddled with my children trying to convince them that what was happening was a good thing and of nights looking around an almost empty flat and realising how loud silence can actually sound.

They signify a pain that cut so deep that at times I would lie for a whole day on my living room floor, unable to eat, or care if I didn’t eat. They signify a fifty five kilo body on a seventy kilo frame. They signify the guilt that my heart still carries for the fact that my children now have to say they come from a broken home.

They give reason as to why my greatest support network lies so far away from me… 2500km away in fact, in the very house where my entire world existed before I met my husband and moved here to be with him.

They give reason to why I am sitting here alone tonight, in a house that’s so quiet I’m afraid to turn on the TV in case I scare the things hiding in the corners, the give reason to the new whites in my hair and the furrow in my brow that seems to now be a permanent part of my countenance no matter how happy I am or how much I laugh.

These papers are proof that things don’t always turn out like you planned, things don’t last forever and that no matter how hard you dream something, it doesn’t make it true.

So that’s why I’m not jumping for joy. Holding these papers, makes all of that flow throw me again, like they are yesterdays emotions. Knowing that all that pain, and all that fear, all those heart breaking phone calls, and terrible nights have all existed to create this document. One that I am approving with my signature, as if to say, “thankyou Universe, you gave me exactly what I needed.”

It’s just a few pages after all, and a signature, a few moments sitting in an office where this kind of thing happens every day, to everyone else… I know that, and tomorrow will be better. But for now, I need to just be calm. I need to just cry for a moment and let the universe know that I have learnt something from it.

Wouldn’t you want to dance in a gorilla suit…

•March 6, 2013 • Leave a Comment

So the whole bucket list thing has died down recently… 

But remember when it was big? Remember that huge craze that swept the world and everyone was making these crazy lists of things that they would do if they could?

Well, at the time I hated it (I pretended to hate it) and I refused to make a list (I pretended to refuse to make a list) and unbeknownst to anyone (including me) I made a list… because a friend asked me what I wanted to do with my life… and I just found it. 

This was the list I sent my friend… 

Spend some time in a third world country. 
Learn how to ride my motorcycle
Get a book or two published. 
Get a bachelor in arts – Majoring in English Language and Linguistics and perhaps Mastering in Mythology (have some little letters after my name) 
own a bookstore… 
Create a painting that rivals the Cistene Chapel
Learn how to say “reciprocity” properly
spend a week all alone in the middle of nowhere with no one to talk to, no internet and no phone. 
dress up as a gorilla and dance on a table. 
turn as many strangers into friends as I can
See my children realise their dreams. 
dance in the corridors of the Louvre
meet a ghost (a friendly one I suppose….)
give blood
be out in the middle of the ocean, far enough out that I can not see any land on any side. 
face some kind of test like the Eliminator on Gladiator…
Develop the ability to read peoples minds, even for an hour… 
Or if that doesn’t happen… a magical ability to sense when people are lying to me… 
learn how to work copper into rings and jewellery
learn how to blow glass…
make a renaissance style fairy dress and wear it out one day just to float down the sidewalk
Fly… without any mechanical devices keeping me up there. 
spend a day lying in a forest just looking up into the treetops at the green sunlight that sparkles through. 
own a python
stand atop a luminous billboard, a la superhero style and stare at the city below me. 
jump from a bridge onto a moving semi and survive
spend a night in a cemetery
get a tattoo up my neck under my hair (I realise I would need to shave my hair for this)
memorise  every word to Shakespeares ,ROmeo and Juliet
Own an investment property
be swept up in a hurricane like dorothy was and land somewhere awesome. 
spend a day in someone elses shoes. 
Spend one christmas eve in the southport homeless shelter… perhaps helping in the kitchen, but mainly just to talk to the people there… and listen to their stories. 
adopt a grandmother (not that the one’s we have aren’t awesome…)
learn how to dance like Fred Astaire (he just looks so free and happy when he’s doing that sideways twirl in the air)
run as fast as a cheetah.
get some awesome professional photos of me… so that when I’m old and wrinkly I can say to my grandkids… “hey guess who this hottie is!!”
buy escargot from a little street vendor in france….
gain a reputation for nonsense and be known as “Madam Freaky Freaky Lady”
be really properly understood
be bodypainted all over so it looks like I’m covered in eagle feathers. 
spend an entire day not talking at all… just listening.
learn how to use Garageband on my mac. 
Learn how to speak yiddish (or latin)
have a bath in chocolate custard
stick rhinestones all over my face
make a room in our house into a library with a brown leather wingbacked chair, a chandelier, velvet drapes and black wall paper. 
set a million butterflies free into the air. 
learn to cook authentic indian curries.
Win the lottery
have a successful garden. 
learn to play ” I believe you liar” (washington) on the piano.
Create a cartoon character who will take over the world “Twilight” style and use it as my highway to global domination…bwaaahaaa

This was it… my bucket list. But I wouldn’t call it a bucket list, because it was a craze. It was popular and I had no intention of being any part of it. 


But I did.


And I was.


And now I am coming out to say this is what I did… judge me if you like. 


Does anyone else have a bucket list that wont come true??


Times they are a changing…

•March 3, 2013 • Leave a Comment

There’s going to be some big changes around here. 

I’m going to be here more for one thing, I’m going to be a little more organised for another… 

Yup, I’m actually going to have a category labelled “Organisation” because I have figured out that for my brain to function in any normal capacity my surroundings need to be organised, my computer needs to be organised, my kids need to be organised.. at least enough for them to remember where they put their marbles (because losing marbles in a common thing in our house, and if you’ve ever stepped on someone’s lost marble you’ll understand how easy it is to be put out of action by stray lost marbles), I also need to start implementing phases…

My problem is my OCD and ADD personality types, they war with each other. The good part of having warring personality types, always having a debating partner… the bad part, starting a million things that are never finished. Like the internal conversation I had this morning… 

“Right, this garage needs to be sorted out”

“Yes, Yes, lets do that. Lets make it all neat and clean it out and we’ll be able to find things.”

“Ok, lets start a list.”

“Right, I got the mobile, let’s start on that list… oooh, someone commented on my facebook page.”

“Enough facebook, lets start a list.”

“Right the list… wonder what’s on pinterest, there might be some advice on making lists.”

“Enough Pinterest, let’s start the list. First thing, sorting things from this pile into “keep, throw, charity” piles.”

“Ooh look, at these shoes, I forgot I had these, lets dress up like a pirate!”

“Must start organising something.”

“Hey lets organise my shoes!”

“OK, lets start a list.”

“Ok, here’s the phone. Ooh, someone commented on facebook.”


You can see, I am in trouble. 

I am posting here so I am accountable to me. 

The OCD me. And Lissaland. 

I am now accountable to the president of Lissaland… Wait, that’s me too.

OOh, look… there’s something new on facebook…

In your eyes

•September 11, 2012 • Leave a Comment

In your eyes my decisions aren’t guided,
my judgement skewed and faulty,
based entirely upon a perspective,
that you are unable to see.
In your eyes I have made bad choices,
my reasons for acting are wrong,
I didn’t think on you long enough,
I thought of me for too long.
In your eyes I am walking the wrong path.
In your eyes I have not tried enough.
I haven’t considered what’s better for you,
in your eyes I have given up.
In your eyes I’m unable to tell you
my reasons for all that I do,
yet in my eyes it seems you’re not listening,
because I’ve already explained it to you.
In your eyes I am not learning your way,
and that’s why I’m claiming heartaches,
in your eyes I have carved my own headstone,
in your eyes I am making mistakes.
In your eyes one day I’ll wake up
and realise how deluded I am,
and you pity me enough that you hope for me,
it’s not too late to start again.
In your eyes, you think I’d be better,
if only I saw it through yours,
and you know it would be much clearer,
I’d have risen above my own flaws.
In your eyes I am weak, wrong, incapable,
selfish and impossible to bear,
so I thank God for the fact I have my own,
and that mine are the eyes I must wear.

Writers Dictionary

•September 1, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Lethologica – a disease that inflicts writers with mind numbing loss of brain control. Symptoms include: staring at the screen blankly, searching online thesaurus’s, babbling strings of barely connected words out loud and procrastination. 


Procrastination – a disease which inflicts writers with a undeniable need to drink coffee, eat cake, play on Facebook, or think of anything that has NOT to do with finishing their work. Symptoms usually appear toward the end of the first draft and continue until editing and polishing is complete and may include: excessive blogging, cleaning the shower, sudden interest in crochet art, rearranging the pantry and/or incessant text messaging and emailing every acquaintance in the phone book. 


For want of a better word – a phrase which writers and non-writers alike use when Lethologica or laziness sets in. Warning – should not be used more than once or twice in any conversation as when used repeatedly can give the impression that you really have no idea what you’re talking about. 


Angst – a word made popular by the writing community and used in times of brain freezing stress. Can be used to express irritation in stages of writing including but not limited to, first draft, second draft, editing, polishing and submitting. Also may be used for those moments that you realise a plot hole exists that is unable to be fixed without changing the entire story line. 


Shhhhh – a word used by writers when struck by inspiration mid-conversation. Can be distinguished from the more commonplace “Shh” (a general call for silence) by the dreamy far-away look in the speakers eyes, and the sudden frantic search for any writing medium, including but not limited to pen and paper,  electronic notebook or eyeliner on napkin.


Sounding Board – A member of a typically small group of people who can bear to listen to the incessant sounding out of characters, improbable events and mad motorcycle chases that may occur at any time during the first draft of a new novel.  


Ben Heine…

•April 3, 2012 • Leave a Comment

I love the kinds of photo’s featured in this blog… the way they manage to bind the drawn world with the real world, gives you the ‘ok’ to believe in something outside of reality… and I love it when someone does not let their thoughts and idea’s be restricted by something as inconsequential as reality…

Sanmusone's Blog

One more artist that amazed me with it’s imagination and the use of drawing skills. He shows how life can be enriched with a pencil and simple things become magical by simply touch of a pencil!=) I think it’s brilliant and fun and entertaining…all in all very original=) So, I’m introducing the master head behind this idea of drawing on life moments…Ben Heine=)

Ben Heine (born 12 June 1983 Abidjan, Ivory coast) is a Belgian multidisciplinary artist. Starting as a painter and political cartoonist, he became more widely known in 2011 for his “Pencil vs Camera” and “Digital Circlism” projects. Heine has a degree in journalism (Brussels – Belgium) and made his Masters’ final assignment on the “limits of freedom of speech in political cartoons” (2007). As a political cartoonist, Heine received some criticism for his views on the Middle Eastern political situation and specifically some images about Israel and Zionism…

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Discovered your underwear was on inside out? Make a wish!

•April 3, 2012 • 1 Comment

What are we wishing for? What do we seek?

and in the midst of our wishing, to who do we speak?

Do we expect someone’s listening, do we speak to ourselves?

do we think we can change our fortune, our health?

Do the wishes we speak fall on ethereal ears

or is there some secret power to forming ideas?

When we seek out the dandelion, fluffy with seeds,

the six spotted ladybird, or feathers in trees,

are we believing their power’s worth more than our dreams?

or are we merely following the rituals we’ve seen?

So what is so huge about making a wish

that we need to watch stars and steal babies first kiss?

And what are we trying to prove by the ruse,

that wishes need “things” to make them come true?

Are we suggesting they’re not for the people who can’t

be bothered to buy a midnight blooming plant?

Are we saying they’re only for those who take time,

to search out the amulets that any can find?

Or is it indeed that our words are our power,

that spoken in any place, at any hour,

without our stubbed toes, new moons or birthday cakes

that believing it’s true, is all that it takes.

dandelion, seed, floating, fairy, wish

There are so many things in this world to wish on, the North star, the first star, falling stars, birthday candles, stubbed toes, birthday moons, eyelashes, underwear. I recall spending my childhood summer days searching for dandelions gone to seed, ladybugs, curly chips, pink vintage cars (there was only one in my town) and fairy rings and I remember my father driving irritatingly slow past the cemetery because he knew I was holding my breath in a bid to squeeze another wish out of my already wish filled day. Each year as I get older I find more and more things to wish on… catching the clock at 11:11, white horses, feathers stuck in trees, necklace clasps and snowflakes… and it makes me think about the human tendency to want more than we have, for after all, isn’t that what a wish is all about. It seems to me that the reason there are so many things to wish on is a result of the the human race wanting more.

And more we give ourselves, because we always are inventing new ways to wish. Just today I discovered that if you shake your fist at a black horse and it looks at you, you can make a wish. If you wish on a white horse, you shouldn’t look at it’s tail. If you sneeze once you can make a wish, but a second sneeze will cancel it. I’m sure I will adopt all of these little rituals into my daily life in an attempt to score on the wishometer, but is it really necessary.

Walt Disney was a firm believer in wishes. “When you wish upon a star”, a favourite Disney tune, promises the realisation of our wishes, as long as we believe wholeheartedly in what we wish for. Maybe that’s the secret, maybe that’s why we have created so many amulets and rituals based around wishes, because we don’t believe in our own power to grant our own wishes. Maybe a wish-giving object is merely a placebo, something that concretes our wish and gives us reason to believe in it, not the source of the magic at all, but a way for us to believe strongly enough so that it will come true.

Personally, I have made the same wish every time, a million times a day, on a million different things, fairy rings, elephant shaped clouds, pin pricked fingers and sometimes just to myself for no apparent reason, and I’ll continue making the same wish every time I lift my feet up while driving over the railway lines, every time I see a black feather on the ground, every time I meet a genie from the lamp. Even though the rituals and talismans are most likely completely unnecessary, they prompt me, and also make me feel a little silly performing them, which just confirms the thought that something good will come of it… (only good things come from innocent silliness… unless it involves a butane torch or fire works kids.)

I’ll never really know if my wish is coming true, but I suspect, so far, it probably is.

Art is the Weapon

•January 12, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Just came across this awesome art blog today…

thought I’d share.. 🙂

A quote for today…

•January 4, 2012 • Leave a Comment

I read this on wordpress… I thought I’d steal it cos it makes so much sense to me, and to anyone else who has ever written anything from their heart, you will also understand… 

“The art of writing is the art of discovering what you believe.” – Gustave Flaubert