email is so cool.

show details 5:53 AM (15 hours ago)

I stayed up all night and wrote this. My fingers dancing over the buttons on my silly cellular phone. I probably looked ghostly, laying in bed with my face lit by the digital light.
As I hit ‘Send’ on this long email to myself, I remembered the meteor shower. It was time. I stood at the top of the stairs, the dogs sleeping on the porch couch. A car drove by, playing loud party music from the mid-eighties. The people in the car didn’t know about the meteors, I was certain of it. I wished there was someway I could tell them. I
looked at the sky. One single, immediate streak low in the dark, eastern sky. It was there, and then it was gone. I waited for more, suddenly so tired, tired, joyfully tired. The sky was still. I rubbed my eyes and turned away.

I only saw one meteor. What were the odds that I would see any at all? I was, again, thankful as I gathered the dogs, shooed cats in and out, cursed the squealing hinges on the door. Glanced at the clock to make sure the alarm was set. Looked away quickly. So tired I was dizzy, but thankful. Again.

show details 3:37 AM (18 hours ago)

She knows that something will happen, the laws of physics demand it. If you cast a line, there will be a splash and then the ripples will last forever, in some form. She is curious by nature. She wants to know how the story ends too soon. She is sorry for this. It means she’ll ruin the story.

show details Nov 15 (3 days ago)

Good Morning, (un-named ally) –

I hope that you and yours are enjoying this totally beautiful weekend. I am getting so much done with the children out of town, but I am almost desperate to see them this afternoon when they get home. I want to hug their little bodies and smell behind their ears.

Anyway – sometimes when I wake up in the morning and am having my first cup of coffee for the day I get remarkably clear ideas. I try to pay attention to these ideas and galvanize them before they become overshadowed by the day. This morning I sat on the steps and thought about how fun and amazing it would be if we collaborated on a book about women’s relationship with creativity. We could offer historical and cultural perspectives on the role of creativity in women’s lives and present primary source content that supports a thesis that creativity is vital for women, but that women struggle with integrating creative process into their lives. I have so, so, so much raw material about my own creative process and how I have learned to accommodate the creative impulse in ways that are positive and productive. You, also, are an artist. In addition to you having worked to develop a positive relationship with your creative impulse, you are smart, mindful, and aware of the vast myriad of variables that impact the relationship women have with creativity. I have read Bird by Bird and Writing Down the Bones and would like to investigate how some of the practices and perspectives in these texts can be adapted to embrace creativity in a way that is not specific to one media. I think it would be a great book. Art saves my ass on a regular basis, but it hasn’t always been that way. For years, art was a nag, a burden, something I knew I should do, but that I simply couldn’t. Because women are so relational, even our experience in individual creative endeavors is sometimes bogged down by our need to fit our activities into the framework of our lives in a way that makes ‘sense.’ Our time is so valuable that, if we do not foster a mindful and constructive relationship with our creative impulse, we are likely to disregard the need to pay heed to that nagging voice that tells us to make something, draw something, be inspired by something.
Please consider this early morning, informal proposal. I think you would be amazing to collaborate with on something like this and that we could actually get it done. I am a do-er. You seem to be one, too. Think about it. I’m going to make an outline, start a file, keep mulling the possibilities. I take these early morning ideas quite seriously. You are invited to work with me on this project of considerable heft.

Have a great day and I hope your heart is inspired at least 10 times today.

Kindest Regards –


show details Nov 14 (3 days ago)

I am so sorry that I did not respond earlier to the kind invite for today’s party. I was a bit under the weather last week. Meaning that I mostly stayed in bed and whimpered. Meaning I had the stupid swine flu. Then pneumonia.
Your message got pushed to an “older” page by the well-wishes and “stay away from here!” messages from all my co-workers. An H1N1 epidemic at (the museum). The irony would be devastatingly bad for museum marketing purposes.
So, I only realized this morning, trying to delete all those “I’m sick,” “I’m still sick,” and “no I don’t need anything left on my doorstep, but…um, thanks?” messages, that I had neglected (un-named child in Olive’s class) party. Which made me feel bad, especially after you graciously came to Olive’s party when you could have been home getting ready for your grown-up party – think of all the eyelashes that could have been glued on!
So, I am sorry that I sick-spaced the invite. Most times when I make lengthy explanations, it’s less about apologizing and more about expressing an appreciation for a person ( via verbose recounts of small actions that may be misinterpreted in vague ways and that really don’t mean much) Sort of a tedious compliment, a soliloquy about how I felt a little bad thinking that you may have for a second thought that I didn’t care about ____’s party.
_____ is awesome. Small and forthright. I like that both she and Olive’s names are both somewhat Mediterranean – _____the Goddess and Olive, the…um, olive. A peaceful, oily tree.
At this point I realize that I’m just writing for the fun of it. Feel free to stop reading whenever you’d like
After you read this:
Sometime within the next month I am hosting a small Wednesday afternoon Friend Party. The children can each invite 1-2 friends and I also can invite friends (my favorite new co-worker, who is helping me to be a better banjo player, some folks I know from the Guardian ad Litem circles) My parent’s will come – they are our friends. (Sheesh. Lucky, but sheesh.) We will cookout on small grills, eat brownies, apple pie and ice cream. We will play with the hedgehog and watch the chickens.
I might play the banjo.
I would love it if you and yours (girls and whomever else)could come to the Friend Party. Sorry we missed _____’s day. Olive is on a Disney adventure with her father. I’m glad they’re having fun, but dang…

It’s possible that I should stop typing and go watch a movie and eat chocolate covered raisins. I’ll send this – because now I’m too typed out to write a shorter message. I keep a blog at
I’m using this as my post for tonight. File Under: Social Niceties by the Sincerely Socially Awkward.

Don’t worry I won’t start sending you long blatherings like this. But, it was fun. Slightly narcissistic, but fun.
The Friend Party will be even more fun. Mostly because of the chickens and desserts. I’ll keep you posted.

Have a great weekend! I’m so excited to see the kids tomorrow, I’m even excited about trying to get them to school on time. (Actually, that was a total lie. I dread trying to get them to school on time!) (It’s funny though – them being out of town has made realized that when freed from the endless demands of children I get so much done. Except the laundry. I still can’t seem to get that done.

Remember, you have the distinction of being the first excessively long personal email to be posted to The 365 Days of Faith. A wonderful blog that nobody but a few coworkers reads.
I sense shameless self-promotion coming on. Gotta go!

See you in the usual places.

Faith (Olive’s mom)

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Current note about music I am loving: Telekinesis! is the soundtrack for this evening. It started raining. Finally.

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