To save a superhero

When my son was little he loved playing the superhero. As Zorro he carved his signature Z into the dresser. As a teenage mutant ninja turtle his swords had to be strapped on just right. But most days he was Superman. One day, when he was 4 years old, he heard the neighbor girls screaming next door. He came running to me for help getting his cape on because he said he needed to save them. He darted out the door with determination on his face only to return a minute later totally dejected. With the saddest face he told me "They didn't want to be saved." Even Superman has bad days.

Flash forward 16 years and my little Superman is all grown up but he'll always be my superhero. Tomorrow morning he faces one of his toughest obstacles as he soars through life and as his mom, I can't save him from this one. Even Superman had a hard time with Kryptonite. Even Superman had parents that tried to protect him only to have him face a new set of challenges on another planet. But I don't have some pod to place him in and ship him to another planet and I don't have a solution for kryptonite. All I can do is make sure he has his cape and be there when he comes back from this battle. After all, how do you save a Superhero?

Good luck Superman. Your mom loves you!

The Skin I'm In

Last night I went to the Bon Jovi concert with my husband and son. I love music and I love seeing bands live, especially great ones from the 80's. I've seen Bon Jovi live before and they put on an amazing show, so I knew I was in for a fun night. It was so much fun to be singing along with Bon Jovi and having my 20 year old son sitting next to me singing along too. As I watched the band play I thought back to my teenage years and this same band. Who would have thought that an 80's hair band would a: still be alive, b: would still be sane, and c: would still be putting out awesome music.

As I watched Jon Bon Jovi beautifully strutting his stuff on stage I noticed something about him. No, not the fact that he still looks great in tight pants. Okay, maybe that. But also, that this man is incredibly comfortable in his own skin. At that point I became a little jealous. Here is a man who is doing what he is passionate about and absolutely loving every minute of it. I firmly believe that even if he weren't making a fortune off of it, he would still be doing it because he loves it. He knows he is good at what he does, he believes completely in himself, and he is totally caught up in the moment and loving it.

I am not that comfortable in my own skin. Unfortunately. I wanted to stand up and shake it right along with Bon Jovi but didn't want to embarrass myself (or my son) by bringing that much attention to my 40-something body that has seen better days. Maybe if I were thinner. Maybe if I were younger. Maybe if I had on a cuter outfit. But no. I sat in my seat and clapped my hands and rocked a little bit. Why? Since when do you have to look amazing to enjoy a moment?

Being comfortable in my own skin is a huge issue for me. I know what my passion is. Art. Some days I think I'm good at it. Other days I think it doesn't matter what anybody else thinks as long as I enjoy doing it. Some days I feel I have the capacity to be great. But most days I'm holding myself back out of fear. I'm too scared to even pick up a pencil and sketch a little something. What if nobody likes what I draw? I'm still looking for others to find the worth in me instead of me just enjoying being me. Now. In this moment. Skin and all. Come on Denise. Suck it up. Live your life for you.

In the words of Jon Bon Jovi, "It's my life. It's now or never. I ain't going to live forever. I just wanna live while I'm alive."

Night journeys of a mad woman

Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a creature of the night. I love the night. I belong in the night. I thrive in the night. Nights when I try to go to bed at a human hour I end up lying there tossing and turning as my mind continues to spin and create. I've tried getting up and writing things down in hopes that I can release the ideas and go to sleep but it doesn't work. My creative mind takes the ideas and then proceeds to expand upon them...for hours.

So what do you do with all of that bizarre stuff that bounces around in your head at 2am? I decided to create a blog where I can hopefully put it out to the universe and move on. So that's what this is. This is a record of my random night journeys, the travels of a spirited soul trying to find her place in a world that feels so restrictive. Hopefully through this blog I can embrace the spirited me and find some way to bring her into the daylight and thrive there too. Stranger things have happened.