The Post-Holiday Snarkle

Is snarkle even a word? I hope not. Because I’m making it one now. Remember, you heard it here first, dear reader. I wish I could work up the energy to copyright it.

It’s the day after Christmas, and after all that build up, as usual, I feel a bit of a let down. I’m tired. I’m glad it’s over with. I won’t miss Christmas music. I just want to wallow in the fatty leftovers and settle in for a long winter’s nap.

I dread taking down the decorations. I am so over beating myself up for not mailing out Christmas cards. I plan to enjoy some peace and quiet.

I am, indeed, in a snarkle. That’s a sparkle hangover. That’s a desire to be snarky but resisting the urge. It’s also the sound I’m making because I’ve come down with a nasty winter cold, mainly because I’ve had a lot more human interaction than I do the rest of the year. It’s a phlegmy sound, deep within my sinuses. Snarkle.

Now, to just get through New Years Eve. One hurdle at a time.

I think I need some fruitcake. Not.

Post-Holiday Snarkle

Like the way my weird mind works? Then you’ll enjoy my book!

I Am Not A-mused

The muse has deserted me. I find I have nothing to say. At least nothing worthy of you, dear reader. So instead I will leave you with the product of my collaboration with another muse from long ago. Here are some of my fractals.

These (without the writing), and other fractals of mine can be purchased in many forms, including mugs, cards, prints, puzzles and business cards, under my artist name, Serenity Questi, here.

Not only would your purchase of one of these things honor me greatly, but it would help me pay off my dog’s $730 dental bill. Just sayin’.

My Tarot Year

I’m not a particularly superstitious person. I find astrology interesting, and I have noticed that the birthdays of most of my good friends tend to be clustered in certain specific times of the year, but I don’t believe that on any given day, every human on earth has but one of twelve destinies. Life is a lot more complicated than that. I was also born in the Chinese year of the dragon, and I’m not going to let that restrict me in any way from being my own person.

In addition, I wouldn’t alter the way I live my life based on a tarot card reading, but I think the tarot opens up an interesting dialogue about the way you are living your life, and the choices that you are making based on current circumstances. I therefore find it a fascinating exercise. And I have to admit that sometimes it does cause the hair on the back of my neck to stand straight up.

That very thing happened just the other day when a new friend (Hi, Amelia!) introduced me to an interesting tarot game. You take your birth month and birth day, and add those numbers with the current 4 digit year. For me that resulted in the number 2055. Then you add those numbers together, and it comes up with 12. So this year, for me, is supposed to be symbolized by the 12th card in the Tarot’s Major Arcana. And that happens to be the hanged man.

So what does the hanged man symbolize? I visited many websites to find out, and the gist of it seems to be about letting go. About change and emotional release. About becoming vulnerable and opening yourself up to new things. It’s about going toward a new reality. And if you look at the card, the hanged man appears to be at peace and seems to have placed himself there willingly.


Okay, there goes the hair on the back of my neck. Because this year I’ve been adjusting to a new city in a new state where I knew no one. A change that I chose to take on myself. It’s about a new job and a new place to live and it’s about grieving my late boyfriend. Cue the eerie music.

So just out of curiosity, what’s in store for me next year? I did the math, and it’s the 13th card. The death card. Oh, great.

But don’t panic. Tarot cards rarely mean what they seem to at first glance. It doesn’t mean I’m going to die. It’s about ending one phase, but also beginning a new one. It’s about renewal, transformation, a break from the past. Out with the old, in with the new.

Again, I doubt I’ll change the way I live my life based on this information, but still… I’ll take it!


The Lost Art of Communication

I got three Christmas cards this year. I miss them. We used to get so many that we’d string them up and hang them on our bannister. They became part of the holiday decorations. It was a great way to catch up with friends and relatives far removed.

Granted, in this digital age it’s much easier to keep in touch. It might be tedious to read a long Christmas letter when you’ve been hearing the news, bit by bit, on Facebook all year long. But there are limits.

Recently a friend of mine heard of the death of her grandmother on a Facebook post. I was stunned. I can’t even imagine receiving such horrible news in such an impersonal way. How hard would it have been to pick up the phone?

I think we’ve lost something as a species when monumental life changing moments such as death, birth, weddings, and divorces become tweets and posts. I actually think it’s kind of disrespectful. Close friends and family deserve the personal touch at times like these. If you can’t be bothered, it shows an utter lack of consideration.

But I have to admit that this societal deterioration has worn me down as well. I’ve stopped sending out cards in recent years because I discovered my time, effort and expense wasn’t being reciprocated or even acknowledged. I suppose that means I’m part of the problem. But I guarantee you I’ll never sink so low as to announce someone’s death on Facebook until I’m sure that all loved ones have been PROPERLY notified.


[Image credit:]

Hippie Peanut Butter Feeds My Soul

Behind every small-scale enterprise is someone who is so desperately in need of money that they’re willing to get creative. I can’t help but admire and, frankly, relate to that, so I try to support these enterprises whenever I can. If I have a coin, I won’t hesitate to drop it into the hat of a street performer. Shopping at Walmart sucks out a little bit of my soul with every visit, but when I buy homemade peanut butter at the farmer’s market from a hippie who has refused to join the 21st century, or really bad lemonade from a kid on a street that has no foot traffic, or hand crafted Christmas ornaments at the flea market, I feel like I’m supporting someone who is willing to do what needs to be done to survive. These people haven’t given up, and I believe it’s my duty to support that spirit, especially in times like these.

Having said that, I will admit that I’m one of these people. I’m a fractal artist, and once I discovered how popular my art is in the virtual world called Second Life, I decided to expand into the real world. So now my art can be purchased in the form of business cards, cards, mugs, ornaments, prints, puzzles, neck ties, and even a 2013 calendar of which I’m particularly proud. I have over 1300 products just waiting for you, so I please do check them out here.

Here are some examples of my fractals. I hope you like them as much as I like making them, because to be honest, I sure could use the money.

Check out Plumage Plumage

Check out Tree of Life Tree of Life

Check out Batik Butterflies Batik Butterflies

Check out Chihuly Chihuly

Check out Psychedelic Spruce Psychedelic Spruce

Check out Nautilus Nautilus

Check out Growth Growth