The Minkoff Minx {Go Ahead…Make Your Move!}

"I get very passionate about what I think is right."-Hillary Rodham Clinton

Thank you is not enough…

An open letter of thanks to the readers of the Sky Dancing Blog from front pager and “Sky Dancer” Minkoff Minx: I used to associate certain smells with my NaNa. A pharmaceutical mix of Pine Sol, Mentholatum, Ben-Gay, mingling with kitchen smells of sauteed onions and garlic, sausage and meatballs frying in oil, starchy rice and the overlaying hint of musty old curtains. Lest not forget, a waxy smell of the solitary burning candle placed at the feet of Jesus and Mary statues in the spare bedroom. The house was an assault to the nose, however, it had a comforting aroma. Now it is not so much the smells that I associate with the old woman, although these are horrible permeating scents of the old…no need to describe these ripe offenses to the senses. But now there are sounds that I hear that cause me to crinkle my face and shrink into myself, very much as fingernails down a chalkboard would make anyone cringe. So too does the sound of the creaking door and floor boards as she’s wheeled into our part of the house. That scuff, scuff, scuff of my fathers suede bottomed slippers on the floor as he feebly pushes her to her destination.  The water trickling in the sink, a sort of hollow pitched sound as the limpid stream of water disappears into the wide open drain. And then the worst sound of all…the paper towel being torn in half. Although, she is very large and could warrant a full sheet of toweling. My father scuff, scuff, scuff to the roll of cheap paper towels and proceeds to tear the sheet in half. This is a piercing annoying sound that enters my head and makes my jaw tighten. No, it is not the pre-planned rip of perforated paper I speak of, but a grating destructive shriek of torn fibers. It is an excruciating few moments coupled with the hollow drips and feeble scuffles. It is my wake up call. Another day has begun. These seem to pass rather quickly during the past three years, is it because I am sort of trapped in my situation? I use these sounds very much like a pathetic scratch placed on the wall of a cell, to mark the days as they change from light to dark, hot to cold. These sounds are my ticks of time and they drain my energy and weigh down on me, like so many rolls of cellulite laden fat that clings to my ass and thighs. To say that living can become a life sentence is pathetic and sad. Being able to connect to people and the outside world by writing something that someone appreciates can rekindle any semblance of living… which is no longer a burden, but an expression of freedom that had been lost. Thank you is not enough…. When my laptop called it quits, that freedom and creative expression that literally pulled me out of my fog, was again drifting away to reveal yet again a meager existence. Writing for Sky Dancing means more to me than you can imagine. I would have never been able to purchase that item which is the essential component, the tool I needed to be able to write for this amazing blog. This Sunday, it was a surprise to me that Dak and BB suggested to have a fundraiser to get a new computer. I never expected it. The sense of hope and relief that I felt when reading the words Dak wrote on the Hands Up post frightened me. It was a realization of just how much writing for Sky Dancing meant to me, coupled with a sense of failure and feelings of inadequacy that swelled up inside. I shut down. Scurried back into our part of the house and sat waiting…watching the sunlight through my window proceed with its regular track of the day.  Much later in the evening, when I was able to get online, the generosity of the readers was overwhelming. The anxiety that I had felt all day was immediately gone, and the emotional response of releasing that anxiety was to sit on my bed…stare into nothing and cry. Thank you for giving me the funds so that I could purchase that essential tool which is more than a laptop. It is a connection to a sense of self-worth and appreciation that I can only hope to repay by working and writing for this absolutely wonderful little blog that could. Thank you for the words of kindness and admiration that you wrote in the comments on that post. Reading them was like an injection of confidence had been given to me. Something that I had not felt in years and years. Thank you for my laptop, thank you for my new-found confidence, thank you for giving me a chance to express myself. Thank you is not enough… – JJ aka Minx

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