Hi. How are you, Dear Reader? How do you feel today: body, mind, and soul?
Pause. Think. Answer honestly.
Me? I’m doing just fine, thanks.
I’m currently sitting on our RV love seat, clicking past the miles somewhere between Ohio and Indiana. Sweet Baby Snap is sleeping; Toddler Snap is hopefully about to do the same up in his car seat.
I’m sipping iced coffee, laughingly shrugging at the insane diesel prices, and singing songs from Father John Misty’s latest album in my head.
I feel good.
. . .
I just turned 35.
Seems kinda weird, like that’s much too old and much too young, all at the same time. Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived a thousand lives; I also feel like I’ve just been born.
And when I close my eyes and quiet my mind, I think about this life. I think about how much I value the simple idea of respect.
I want to show respect in everything I do.
Toward other human beings, animals, and Mother Earth herself.
I want to respect other people’s time. I want to respect their turn to speak.
I want to respect the public goods we all need, like clean water and food. Health. Education. The arts and humanities.
I want it to be known that I respect you because not everything is about me.
. . .
(shrugs)
That’s it for now.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer and artist currently residing on Planet Earth.
Wouldn’t it be something if our every thought could be documented? Like, our dreams could be stored away in The Vault of Complete Memories, which I visualize as a rather Soviet-looking building, filled with hundreds of books and videotapes. Every dream, pondering, or musing filed away, awaiting reflection.
Or you know. . . maybe not, because even entertaining that idea gives me significant heart palpitations.
What I’m getting at is that the mind is a funny thing; there are so many fleeting thoughts, many of which stay for just a blip on the screen, and are never heard from again.
And you know? I think that’s a real shame. How much have we lost? How many valuable seedlings never make it to the light of day?
. . .
I woke up this morning feeling like The Tin Man. My hands were a frustrating mix of fiery frozen fingers.
I’ve yet to see a doctor, but I’m confident I have carpal tunnel syndrome. It seems that even a few years of scooping ice cream and meticulously decorating cakes wreaks havoc on the wrists. (That, and my crazy handwriting practices also probably contributed.)
I felt so much older than my [almost] 35 years. The only cure was several small, steamy mugs of coffee, followed by a piping hot shower. I wet-brushed my hair. I cocoa-buttered my body. I put on my new polka dot house dress, and felt reborn.
. . .
Nothing is ever Most things are never really done. Never really over, never really. . . accomplished.
Our days are spent simply trying to keep up.
Again and again and again.
For these are the moments wrinkles are made of.
. . .
I don’t have many friends.
17 years ago I saw myself as The Girl Who Got Along With Everyone. And while I like to think I still have that mindset–I really do try to see the best in people–I find myself on the periphery of true friendship. Maybe it’s my simple lifestyle: maybe I seem boring to most people. Maybe my artistic nature is difficult for others to relate to.
Or maybe we’ve forgotten that friendship is a living, breathing thing. Starve it, and see what happens.
Meanwhile, I’ll prune the brilliant blossoms in the morning sun.
I love you.
. . .
It literally took the act of childbirth for me to learn the art of asking for what I need.
. . . I am worthy of help. I am worthy of comfort in this life.
And so, my friend, are you.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer who just loves using mixed metaphors.
There’s something about the last gasp of winter that I absolutely adore.
Because even though it’s technically springtime–what with the equinox being over and all–we northeastern folks know that pretty much doesn’t mean shit. And while there are usually a handful of truly glorious, 70-degree days scattered throughout March, there’s always one last stretch of take-your-breath-away cold.
And even though I kind of hate it, I actually kind of love it.
It’s refreshing. It’s mysterious.
And it makes me nostalgic for the things that have been.
. . .
It’s no secret that I’m an old soul. In fact, I might just be the definition of one. I like to be in: in the house, in the car, in a piping-hot shower. I don’t need much to be happy, and this in itself makes me happy.
My college days were no different. I had a handful of friends, and kept them close. We passed the weekends watching movies on VHS tapes. We’d then talk each other into watching just one more, with the assurance that we eventually would get those papers written. And we did.
We worked our part-time jobs. We scheduled our classes for the fall. We dyed our hair and dreamed of The Great Beyond.
There was so much beauty in these moments: in the vulnerable act of being young.
I want to kiss my college self. I want to brush her hair behind her ear and tell her that she’s lovely. I want to tell her that everything–the things that matter, anyway–will be okay.
. . .
So now, when I feel these last days of winter, I smile. I pull my graying hair into an uncool topknot and slip out to Giant for baby formula and kitty litter.
I look at the naked trees, and wonder at all they’ve seen.
I crank Tori Amos and sing along in my very best soprano, the delicious harmony giving me pause.
I come back home, back inside, and the warmth somehow makes me shiver at the cold I’ve just endured.
For soon the trees will blossom, our open windows ushering in a gentle breeze. I’ll wander out in a tank top and sandals, wondering where time has gone.
. . .
How simple life can be.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer, painter, and enthusiastic storybook-reader.
(rips a fresh slice of paper out of a spiral-bound notebook)
. . .
Daily Shadows, 2021. Original Photo by SnapDragon X. All rights reserved.
1. Mind
Shh. Quiet Time. Listen to the birds; listen to the leaves. Remind yourself that you are enough. In fact, you’re more than enough: you’re wonderful.
2. Body
Water, all around. Drink it in, splash it on. Rinse those worries down the drain. Stretch and rest. Breathe real deep. Flare your nostrils as they inhale the cool autumn air.
3. Soul
You are not other people’s assumptions. You are a gentle smile in the morning sun. You are the clapping of hands and the snort of a belly laugh. You are a hardy bite of egg-salad sandwich.
You are SnapDragon.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer who could watch The 40-Year-Old Virgin pretty much any day of the week.
I’ve got the AC chilling on low, Toddler Snap snoozing in his car seat, and a pumpkin iced latte within reach. Each sip reminds me of pleasant fall mornings in my classroom. Singing along with Regina Spektor as I readied myself for a day of chaotic happiness.
I smile.
. . .
1. All I can hear is the steady hum of my FJ Cruiser. I watch my fellow suburbanites scurry across the parking lot, to who knows where. A storm is brewing, and the gently trembling leaves on the pre-planned shrubbery soothes me somehow.
2. My eyebrows need to be plucked. It’s funny how I used to do this every day in college. Now the need only strikes about once a month. Funny how our bodies change.
3. I’ve always been a thinker. I suppose it’s hard to be a writer and artist and not think about things until your stomach literally hurts. And I’ve been privileged with the gift of time. Even at my busiest, I’m never worried about where my next meal will come from or if I’m physically safe to leave my house. This allows my mind to reflect, to grow. It allows me to wonder what kind of wife I am. What kind of friend, daughter, and sister. I think about these things, then I think some more. Who am I?
4. I’m pregnant. Yep. The Littlest Snap is scheduled to be here in late February. Here’s to an uneventful, full-term delivery. #ptsd
5. I saw a picture of a pot-bellied pig today that made me ridiculously happy. It was so big and chubby that it almost looked like a cartoon. I wanted to give it a hug, and name it something like Stanley or Walter or George.
Wishing you well, Dear Reader. Take time for joy today.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer and reader of delicious paperbacks.
FeelingFine, 2021. Original Photo by SnapDragon X. All rights reserved.
This past month or so has been filled with visits from those who were starting to feel like long-lost friends. (Pandemically speaking, that is.)
It truly has been joyous to see so many (vaccinated!) loved ones after at least eight(ish) months of diligent social isolation on our part.
And I’m not gonna lie: it was a little hard at first. A little. . . weird.
How do I talk to people other than Sweet Husband or Baby Snap?
We can actually eat at restaurants again?!
What the frick am I gonna wear?
And then, like strumming the G chord on an old guitar, things fell right back into place.
. . .
Friends.
Ahh.
I’ve had a bunch throughout my 34 years on this planet.
Many stayed only for a time; a few have graciously remained.
And when we’re together I’m reminded of what friendship really means:
Listening.
(I could probably just end the post here. But there are, of course, other things worth noting.)
(clears throat)
Friendship is:
listening; always giving the benefit of the doubt; being honest; being humble; not being afraid to sound stupid; nurturing; the sharing of secrets, recipes, and dreams; being bored together; laughing until one or more bodily functions kicks into gear; putting the other person first.
It’s a safe haven; a philosophical community; a shrug of the shoulders at her shortcomings.
A friend will drink with you; rub sunscreen on your back; drive an extraordinarily long way just to hang.
I am forever grateful to have these special humans in my life.
Looking forward to the next soirée, Dear Ones.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer and artist who lives in her native state of Pennsylvania.
Pedestrian Garden, 2021. Cape May, NJ. Original Photo by SnapDragon X. All rights reserved.
Wuddup, Dear Reader?
Greetings to you and yours, after my small blogging break.
I’m currently lounging (?) in the driver’s seat of my car. Baby Snap is snoozing in the back, so I pulled into one of a trillion strip malls on The Main Line. Starbucks in hand. AC blasting. I even scored a free Large Iced Caramel Macchiato, after a Medium was presented to me at the drive-through window. Grande, Tall. . . Whatevs.
Anyway! On to other business, yo.
SnapDragon’s List of Other Business, Yo.
1. I’m on countdown. I found out a few weeks ago that the contract for my employment is not being renewed. My last day is in mid-August. Oh well. I am grateful for what the job offered and the role it played in my life. But I’m ready for the next phase: Full-Time Homemaker. Artist. Writer. Online Entrepreneur. . . ? The SnapDragon Shoppe will be a thing. Stay tuned, my friends.
2. Sing out loud; sing out strong. My sister-in-law turned me on to A Musical Celebration, the 25th Anniversary Sesame Street video. And it’s friggin’ awesome. Instant smiles. Heart-warming nostalgia. Why do I feel like The Muppets make everything better?
3.One page at a time. With each passing day, I realize how much time every little thing takes. I mean, to really do something, and do it well. Showering; scrubbing dishes; writing an email; reading an article. And as I watch our son take confident-yet bow-legged-steps across the concrete, I remind myself that it’s impossible to get it all done. Focus on now. What I do accomplish, I want to be done right.
. . .
So as I sit here for another twenty minutes or so, sipping sugary coffee and waiting for my curls to fully dry, I smile.
The sun is out.
This moment is still.
And a bird soars past my window.
I’m alive.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer who never says no to a coffee.
A Re-Issue from The SnapDragon Archives: Originally Posted in March of 2019
. . .
Little Old Me telling Little Old You to see the world.
Coffee at Picasso National Museum, 2018. Paris. Original Photo by SnapDragon X. All rights reserved.
I experienced my first airplane ride at the age of 24.
There’s no extraordinary reason for the delay, really. I grew up in a working-class household, and it was simply more economical to drive a family of five to the Jersey shore each summer. And I loved it. Still do, in fact. Wildwood and Cape May will always have a tender, salt-water-taffy-scented place deep in my heart.
So once I was out of college, working full-time as a teacher and for the first time in my life had a little bit of money, I accompanied my boyfriend (who is now The Sweet Husband) to visit his family in beautiful Colorado.
It changed me.
In the almost seven years since that first mile-high adventure, I’ve visited 12 European countries and 14 additional US states.
I’m extremely lucky.
The Husband loves to travel, more than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s also handy that he loves to plan all of the logistics and is a bonafide carrier-pigeon with his keen sense of direction.
I love it. And I love him for so many reasons. One of the most valuable things he has taught me is that there’s an enormous world out there, waiting to be seen.
You just gotta go.
And aside from my time teaching, traveling abroad has been the most influential experience of my life.
Arriving in Helsinki, feeling so very far from home, felt like a bucket of cold water to the face. You are here. This is not just a place on the map. These people are living their lives.
On Isle St. Louis, we awoke to the aroma of freshly-baked croissants. I walked next door and in pathetic, broken French ordered four. Sitting in our tiny Airbnb kitchen, we spread buttery-soft cheese on those pastries and savored every. goddamn. bite.
We sailed across The Baltic Sea,gazing out at the expansive array of blue.
We hopped on train after train. The Netherlands. Switzerland. Italy.
Together, 2019. Paris. Original Photo by SnapDragon X’s Sweet Friend. All rights reserved.
Each and every place I’ve been tells a story. There’s an ethereal feeling, like I’m in a dream or watching myself live my own life.
And when I come home, it feels different somehow. I’m different.
Traveling reminds me, in a comforting way, that our time on this planet is so very brief.
So how will I spend it?
I could stress about the cost of it all. I could park myself on the couch and worry about everything that could go wrong. I could vow to go “when the time is right” and 40 years from now wonder what might have been.
Or I could just go.
Because life is for the living, Dear Reader.
So go take a bite. Take a sip. Because it could all be over in an instant.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer, artist, and die-hard Paul McCartney fan.
A Re-Issue from The SnapDragon Archives: Originally Posted in March of 2019
. . .
Meet the three personalities of SnapDragon X.
Beauty in Threes, 2017. Original Painting by SnapDragon X. Acrylic on Canvas. All rights reserved.
Hi!
Whether you’re new to Snippets of SnapDragon, or one of my faithful readers (I think I’m up to 8?) welcome back to another day in the Blogosphere.
Several years ago I wrote a piece about the many facets of my personality, or the handful of alter egos that make me me. I actually shared it with my high school students as a beginning-of-the-school-year exercise. I thought about digging it out of my files and uploading it today, but then thought, Nope. It’s always better to start fresh.
So here we are.
The painting you see above is the first “real” piece in my artistic catalog (as an adult, that is). It’s hung on our dining room wall, perfectly placed so that when I am curled up on the love seat in the adjacent living room, I can see it clearly.
At first I didn’t know what to think of it. Is it finished? Is it too cartoony? Too colorful? Too bizarre?
It doesn’t matter. Because it’s me.
All three pieces.
So travel with me as I define each woman you see. Consider it the unholy trinity of SnapDragon X.
Girl One:
Call me Charlotte. I’m the library-loving soul who wears colorful high-top sneakers and gets excited about fruit-flavored lipgloss. I decorate the walls with an array of magazine clippings, ranging from photographs of potted plants to headshots of famous people I do not know. I’m a teacher. I love routine. My classroom chalkboards are pristine and filled with color-coded journal prompts. My eyes are missing because I only come to life by interacting with others.
Girl Two:
Call me Rita. I’m the whisky-drinking, foul-mouthed redhead who wants to keep the party pumping. I sing, I dance. I take a chance by telling the truth and encourage everyone present to do the same. We’re on the same side.There’s nothing to be afraid of. I tell myself that I’m allowed to be me, and people can take it or fucking leave it. Then when I’m alone I spiral into an abyss of self-doubt and delusion.
Girl Three:
Call me Heather. I’m the empath of the group. No matter your story, I feel a connection to you because we are both human. I rejoice in your success. I cry for the loss of your father, though we never met. There is a cavern of emotion inside me, one that drains me and makes me want to hide in the bathtub for hours on end. I love me, I love you. I want us to forgive.
I am SnapDragon.
It’s a pleasure to meet you.
. . .
SnapDragon is a writer, artist, and frequent-quoter of Seinfeld.
Snippets of SnapDragon 
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