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SO I’m sitting here in Maryland, visiting my sister.  She’s running some errands so my little sis and I have the monsters all to ourselves. And it’s AWESOME.  Buuuut, I could go on forever about how much I love the monsters, so….I’m ending that right now. ha.

It’s rainy out here in the MD.  It’s been raining since yesterday and my heart is gigantic. There’s just something about a rainy day that throws me into poetry.  It’s just amazing.  I’ve been living in art lately (for about a week, it seems).

One thing that I always learn when I’m with my sister is that slow isn’t always bad.  The rain is making us hang out inside and it’s so relaxing.  I stopped worrying about my soulmate. I think it’ll happen when it’s supposed to…and worrying either way (i worry BOTH ways), isn’t worth it.  Although my sister, so excited to see if her guess is right, keeps pulling me tarot cards to figure it out.

I always pull this tarot card..the five of cups.  It has a person who’s distraught over three cups that are knocked over and turns his/her back on the two cups that aren’t knocked over.  The five of cups reminds you to be happy for what you have and don’t cry to hard over what you don’t.  What a great lesson to remember, huh?

For now, I’m focusing on the fact that have sooooooo much.  I have such wonderful friends in my life.  An amazing family. A couple’a’monsters that are TOTALLY adorbz. The list goes on.

Because I’ve been stuck in poetry for like the past week, I’ve been looking up some amazing spoken word poetry.  I’ve come across some that really get to me….for instance:

ahhhh. So gorgeous.

Another inspiration: a friend texted me yesterday.  Her grandmother passed away. I only met her grandma once, for a few days, but the second I laid ears on her, I was instantly inspired.  She’s a legend.  Talking about artist friends that she had, showing us their paintings. Reading us her poems about mockingbirds and giving me goosebumps with her stories.  Everyone knew her, she was the town historian.  I don’t even feel like I can do her justice with my words.  The first thing she taught me was to let my acrylic paint dry over night and, the next day, fold the paint into flowers.  It’s so beautiful…just like her.  She was a fried green tomato artist, a clear eyed poet, with soft hands and gorgeous visions.  Like I said, I can’t even do her justice with my words.  I’ll keep trying…all of you lovelies deserve to know more about her amazingness.

Find your inspiration, lovely blogmonsters. Inspired is the only way to be.