You can find links to my flash fiction, to my serialized story, Fireborn, and to my poetry and songs over at my new (under construction) website, www.wyld-dandelyon.com.

You can also find some of my fiction, poetry, worldbuilding, and artwork over at www.tornworld.net, along with the fiction, poetry, world-building, and art of my talented co-creators there.

If you miss my old, long-winded landing page, you can find it and the landing pages for various projects by searching on the "landing" tag.

So, I recently started a Pandora station at work. I "seeded" it with Bonnie Dobson, and Pandora kept playing the same 10 songs. That got boring, so I added a couple more female singers. Some good songs played, and I liked a couple songs by groups with male singers. Beetles. Simon & Garfunkle. Stuff like that.

Four hours later, I started wondering why I was hearing less than one female singer/group an hour when the three main seeds I'd given the program were all women or female groups.

Now, don't get me wrong, I was enjoying all the songs I was hearing--what I wasn't loving was what I wasn't hearing. There are so many fantastic female artists! Where were they?

I decided to do an experiment.  At home, I started another station with all-female seeds. I've spent time over the last week sending male singers off to other stations. Even so, every 4th or 5th song is by a male artist.  Now, I've never seen Pandora list gender of singers as one of their criteria for "why we played this song"; as far as I know, that's not one of the things the program tracks.

My conclusion (based, admittedly, on a limited sample), is that It's difficult to get a whole hour of all women artists, but easy to get more than an hour of all male artists even when the station's seed artists are female.

I'm tired of stumbling over examples of how often and how easily women are overlooked in our world.

Even when there's good cheese:

Why isn't my last post on my Friends Page?

It's there in my own journal...

You suddenly lost my link to posting to Twitter too.


*sigh*

The snowball spireas are finally blooming:

After far too long (life has been uncooperative), my singing partner came over today so we could practice. I'd been at work for a half-day and came back to tend seedlings briefly then try to set up the living room for music. I ended up picking up some cat mess and then went to open windows for cross-ventilation and to make it less likely that my ever-present allergies would affect my voice.

That was more challenging than it should have been, since our "halfway" (the storage area between the first floor and the basement) is still in the process of being painted, so tools, nails, sand paper, etc. etc. etc. are in the living room, scattered across the tables I normally use for selling stuff at festivals, blocking off access to one wall. But I managed to wiggle the tables enough to squeeze past and open the window.

Then I ran into a totally unexpected problem--the chair that my friend always sits in was missing.  It's true that we have more than one chair, but most of them have arms or are otherwise unsuitable for him to use for music practice.

I searched the first floor and second floor several times before heading down into the basement. Climbing dusty stairs is not the best thing for my lungs or my knees. I could not find the chair that had been in the living room, nor the other one like it. Finally the homeless guy living at my house overheard enough to volunteer that he'd taken the chair and put it in his room. When I protested that he had not asked about moving the chair, he gave me a pointed look and said, "but no one was using it."

I told him that wasn't the point.

He repeated, louder and slower, "Deirdre, no one was using it!"

As if that justified him taking something that wasn't his without so much as informing me he was using it, and hiding it away in the area we have been treating as his private space.

I told him that the point was it wasn't his and he didn't ask. I admitted that if he had asked, I would doubtless have said yes, but he should have asked. He left the house soon thereafter.

I really would like this to work--My Angel and I both have chronic illnesses, and having someone else around to do some of the chores and just be another adult around in case Angel falls again is welcome.

But I didn't offer him a free room, I observed that he'd been saying he was desperate to find a place to move to and I had a big house that had space and that needed work, and we might be able to work something out that would benefit both of us.  So far, he has done some chores, but not a lot.  Certainly not enough to make up for not paying rent or utilities.

More and more I am feeling deliberately disrespected.  This chair thing isn't the first time I've felt a lack of respect for me personally or as the owner of the property.  It's mostly little things, for instance, when we're talking about things that need doing, he's very unwilling to risk disturbing my stuff--but if he wants to cook, he'll ask things like,  "Do we have such-and-such a spice?"   Not that I object to sharing my spices, but they are my spices (or my-and-Angel's spices).  He didn't buy or grow any of them.

I don't think I'm out of line in believing he should be respectful of our things, and not just use them as if he's entitled to them because he doesn't think we're using them.  I also don't think it's out of line to think that he should act like he appreciates the gift of a warm safe place to stay.

I know I haven't been perfect in this situation--with the asthma, allergies, and sleep apnea, to say nothing of a very challenging day job, it is far too often all I can do to worry about my family; dealing with this situation is often well beyond the number of spoons I have had left by the time I got off work and find out that My Angel isn't up to even cooking dinner, much less going shopping, taking out trash, or anything else useful.  I have too often been grumpy and uncommunicative.  I have to do better, one way or the other.

But the goal was to let me have fewer worries and more time, if not eventually money to use on house repairs or something else useful to me.  And I've not gotten that.

Instead, here I am, using time I might use for writing or music or art and instead am thinking over whether it's worth the effort to try to fix this situation or whether I'd do better to do things like find someone in the neighborhood to hire for snow shoveling. Not that I know who in this neighborhood I can trust. The neighborhood seemed to be moving in a good direction when and  right after we moved in, but the "great" economy squashed all progress.

*sigh*

At least the music practice was good, once I put aside being distracted by the matter of the missing chair.

Here, have another lilac picture:

I forget how good it feels, once in a while, to ignore work, housework, human and feline health issues, goals, dreams, and pretty much everything else, and sleep until I wake up, realize I'm still tired and sleep more until I wake up and feel rested, and then make pizza and read, eat pizza and read, and then read some more.

It's remarkably refreshing.

Too bad I can't do it for a week or two.

It's June, and we have lilacs, finally.

A couple of days ago, I was going to post one of my monster sketches from last weekend, but Live Journal wouldn't let me post. Hopefully that won't be a problem tonight, be cause Elizabeth wrote a poem about the creature in one of my sketches!

So, here is the current sketch of the Unicorn Jelly:


And here is the link to the poem:  http://ysabetwordsmith.livejournal.com/2836864.html

Finally, we would welcome some new prompts, whether related to Sea Monsters or not.  Of course, you're welcome to come peek in on us as we create or even join us.  http://torn-world.livejournal.com/151363.html

I even got Mother's Day flowers!



You can see my sister's paints around the edges of the picture. I found myself in Chicago before I realized Sketchfest was happening.

I'm left with the question: Why are sea monsters easier to paint than people???

Now I'd better pay some bills and then maybe I'll have time to scan some paintings.

Life is still overbooked and frustrating, but there are words.

Just not very many on Live Journal right now. But I have a new poem up over at Torn World: http://www.tornworld.net/storypageview.php?id=512

It goes with this painting:



So far, May is starting better than April did, creatively speaking.  Here's keeping my fingers...well, crossed isn't the right metaphor, is it?

It's Muse Fusion time, despite overtime and the TV breaking for no reason and other things that trouble my ability to tune out the real world and concentrate on creating an imaginary one. But still, I got something done and will now retire to dream up the next story! You're welcome to stop by and leave a silly prompt or three http://torn-world.livejournal.com/149893.html (or, I suppose, some serious prompts, if you want).  In the meantime, here's the first draft of my Muse Fusion freebie this month:


Ties
A Torn World poem by Deirdre Murphy


The night had been clear, stars sparkled overhead.
Akaalekirth and Lereterli hung hammocks outside
To watch the moons and the stars wheel overhead
And to tell each other outrageous stories
Without waking the baby.

They fell asleep, breathing sweet air
Scented by rainforest flowers and fruits.
Suddenly, the earth shook the huge hometrees
Fuchsia Tribe’s houses creaked, waking parents
to comfort wailing children.

Akaalekirth felt her hammock quiver around her
She could hear human and animal sounds of alarm
“What’s happening?” Her voice shook.
“Earthquake” Lerleterli answered.
“Tie your hammock closed.”

Akaalekirth reached for the ties, paused
“Shouldn’t we head to the ground?”
Rreisali poked her head out the window
“Orlano is going to look at the ocean—
You girls stay put!”

It took a long time to knot the thick fibers
But Akaalekirth obediently tied rope after rope
Suddenly, she laughed—when had she stopped rebelling?
Of course, she mused, this family offered her
Respect and welcome.

“What’s so funny?” Lereterli sounded annoyed.
“I didn’t even ask why, I just tied myself in.”
Akaalekirth laughed again. “I wasn’t like that before.”
Lereterli hissed, “Hush—do you hear that?”
It was just surf—but too loud!

“When it comes, hold your breath!”
Akaalekirth breathed in to ask for an explanation
Then the water was there, filling the air
Their home tree shook and bent,
She had no time to scream.

The water pulled Akaalekirth against the knots
And then back again, trying to drag her to sea
In the surge, one of the strong new ropes broke
The water rushed back out of the rainforest.
It left her hanging upside down.

She was soaked, with rope burns all over.
The house was ruined, half of it gone to sea.
“Lereterli?” Akaalekirth twisted to find the other hammock—
Had her new sister survived the flood?
And Rreisali and the baby?

Then she heard the baby coughing
She started to swing and turn in the hammock
The motion made her stomach feel sick
But it let her see her sister, her family, safe
Except Lereterli’s father.

Lereterli was curled like a lizard in her hammock.
Rreisali was tied to the trunk of the hometree
Her beautiful hair tangled like a mask over her face.
She stroked the baby’s face through the netting
That held him to her.

Akaalekirth realized the sun was rising.
The light glinted off of fish stranded in the treetops
And several trees over, a tentacled monster thrashed,
Breaking tree limbs and shattering a bridge
As it bled to death.

While Akaalekirth hung upside down
Lereterli untied her hammock and then her mother
Orlano returned with more of the tribe.
He had many cuts and his left arm was splinted,
But at least he was alive.

“Good thing you all stayed in the tree,” Orlano smiled,
“If you were down there, you could have been drowned
Or swept to sea.” She asked, “Does this happen often?”
“No. Maybe once in a generation,” he said, then frowned.
“But it happened last year.”

Akaalekirth was very glad when they got her free,
The fresh fish and drowned goose feast cheered her too.
But not even the prospect of monster for dinner
Could please her as much as being sure
Her chosen family was safe.



If you want to read more stories about these two girls, look here: http://www.tornworld.net/fiction.php?id=26

Tod djinni is having a live stream art party!

http://www.ustream.tv/channel/icon-day