Kristina Furey

1 more this week-for Melania


Forgive me a 3am awakening led to this post but it seemed urgent to get this said.

Dear Melania Trump,.

I don't know you and you don't know me but I look at you sometimes and I concern over you.  I am reminded of a plaque on a wall with butterflies.  These butterflies had needles through their heart, attaching them to this board.  Each perfectly labeled underneath with an identity that someone along the way had thought up and given them.  I think the butterfly herself would have preferred to have called herself free.  After all, isn't that what all butterflies should be?  

I have always found butterflies to be beautiful and I learned as a young child, just how important it is not to mess with the nature of these beautiful creatures.  I wish I hadn't learned this lesson the hard way, as it broke my heart, when the butterfly that I had caught, lost the special powder on its wings and suffered a tear to its wing as well.  I felt a great shame as the realization overcame me, that this butterfly would never get off the ground again.  I wish I had brought this butterfly to the attention of someone who could have helped her, for the damage that I had caused her but it was that same pride, I felt at acquiring the butterfly, along with the shame of wounding the dear creature, that took control of me, allowing that butterfly to suffer.  I didn't want to be thought of as less, even though, I knew the truth.  I don't know if hiding the truth ever helped because I still to this day think about that butterfly and the pain in my heart.  That pain in my heart saved many a butterfly after that one. I remember considering that while observing the plaque with the butterflies on it.  Whoever created that butterfly plaque, must not have made the same connection I did. I noticed, as I saw butterfly after butterfly, stuck to the board as some sort of trophy. I don't remember how many butterflies there were on the plaque, maybe it was 9, maybe it was 12.  I just remember feeling for them and thinking.  The person who did that obviously didn't realize what a gift those creatures lives were to this world and I thought, how selfish and cruel it was…


Forgive me, if I have assumed to much!  I trust only you, to know your own story. I have considered too, that the wall of an office just may have proven to be, much better than other places you may be familiar with...  or maybe, you are careful and clever to use your position, much like the heroine, Scheherazade, from “1001 Nights”.   If that's the case, keep at it!  Regardless, I just wanted to extend my friendship to you.


Much love and hope,

Kristina Furey



Moments of clarity


Sometimes I get these moments of clarity on things and realize how helpful it could be to others.  Last week, I had one of those moments as I went on a little adventure with some girlfriends.  In route,  a girlfriend asked me, “What would be your advice to this person I know, who feels like her husband should stick up for her when she is visiting his family and members of that family do things to heckle her or otherwise make her uncomfortable?”  My friend continued to explain how these encounters almost always lead to her and her significant other having spats after visits.  I said things like, “Well she should have a discussion with her significant other before their next encounter about how she feels or if she’s not up to that, start writing a letter now explaining what it is like and how if effects her when she goes through these uncomfortable encounters.  Edit it and edit it, until it contains no blame, just the facts and her explanation of why and how it is hard for her.  I cautioned, she should be prepared for the significant other to get defensive, perhaps even try to make her the bad guy in the situation but to stick to the message of these are my needs.  I said hopefully they will just be more understanding and willing to help mediate.  However, my advice was if they don’t get ironed out before she is due to visit again, she shouldn’t go.  Also, If things seemed settled between her and her significant other but she gets there only to find herself once again heckled without his help, she should help herself and leave.  Call a friend, a cab, an Uber and go.  We have to validate ourselves even if no one else will.

Life is hard enough.  It is unpredictable and at times feels cruel but life has no cruel intentions.  Only facts.  When we try to push against those facts, we find that facts really are unchangeable.  We don’t get to choose the facts of life.  If we feel abused by the facts of life we really have no choice but to accept the facts and cope.  People that mistreat us or allow us to be mistreated are a whole different thing.  

The night of that conversation I went to sleep and woke up in the wee hours of the morning hearing “She needs to be okay.  She needs to tell them she is not okay”.  First thing the following morning, I told my friend this and we discussed how that was actually such a great response because anyone that would argue against someone being able to feel okay, rather than open themselves up to the conversation of why someone is not okay, is really not someone you would be able to be okay with, so it would be self abuse to remain with them.  

My thought is, if you don’t feel okay in a situation the first thing to say is “I don’t feel okay.”  Then state why.  If they don’t get it or argue against you, the next question would be “Do I get to be okay in this relationship?’”  And anything less than "Yes" is a reason to move on.  This “Do I get to be okay” can be utilized in all relationships, family, work, etc…   

Anyway, in this day and age where so many people have come forward with stories of how they were adversely, effected by people, misusing their power, it seems like this may be an important epiphany, to share… if it helps you or could help someone you know, please pass it on.  

I’ve added some more shares at the bottom of my page here.


Second Hand Rock N Roll


First things first.  I did finish the song, I mentioned I was still working on in last weeks blog.  Well, kinda…  So it took going back over and over it again, trying to get it as close to what originally showed up in my head, some years ago.  At the time it was like meeting  “Black Dog” by Led Zeppelin, and “Stroke” by Billy Squire, well, it was like meeting their long lost cousin.  Though, it was really more just the result of 2nd hand Rock N Roll. Maybe you’ve heard of how 2nd hand smoke can infect those around.  Well I heard some Zeppelin and other bands growing up and it’s kinda the same thing.  I was an Olivia Newton John loving, Soft rock listening, Crystal Gayle singing, young lady, breathing in 2nd hand RNR.  I blame my brother who played his music so loud it shook the house when my parents weren’t home.  It would drown out my soft rock when he had the stereo up to 11.  I knew there was no convincing him of turning it down and admittedly, I liked some of what I heard, and caught the RNR bug that there is no cure for, except perhaps more cowbell ;-).  This 2nd hand RNR I was exposed to occasionally gets exhaled into a song.   I warn you, I may have bitten off more than I should have but the hope was for Dan to get an idea of what I was hearing.  I added it to:  My Video Blog page.  The video is the one on the bottom right hand corner. 

Dan’s finger boo-boo has made a recovery and now that I got the song flushed out, he can gather an idea of what I was going for and we’ll see what happens next.  We may capture what was in my head completely or it may take on a life of it’s own.  Songs are like children, once we birth them, they become what the world sees as necessary.   Sometimes I feel very possessive because I want the song to be what it told me it wants to be.  Maybe I’m not so much possessive, as I feel a certain amount of loyalty to the songs that present themselves to me. 


"I don't want to go home tonight" a songx2 by me :-)


Dan is on break from work and last Thursday he started making another cutting board, after waking our dinosaur of a computer up from a very long slumber, so I could do some recording.  He has always set me up to record vocals in the past and he’s always done the instruments, editing and mixing.  So far, all I've learned to do is hit record and stop, move to the next track and do the same.   So I have to play all the way through the song or hit delete and start over.  Same with vocals.  Makes for good practice, I guess. In the three hours he woodworked, I vocalized and recorded a song.  I came up with it years ago (A story for another day) but it’s theme of “I’m having so much fun, I don’t want this to end” which has been a running theme through my life and most recently that was the case when I was up north, just before Christmas, when I flew in for my bestie’s Christmas party.  Hence the intro in the video.  So here’s the link:  which will take you to a page I’m starting for the purpose of sharing.  I have more than one video and I'll get to that in a moment.  This particular song is in the video where you see me.  In the light blue shirt.  Yep, that is me.  Thursday was a no makeup, hair in ponytail kinda of day.  A get it done kinda day! :-)

Finding the chords to play and recording the song was Easier to do than I anticipated.  YES!!!  And it was just the win I needed to convince me to try again.  And I did.  Second time was not as cooperative.  It turns out I had the room speakers on and the mic was picking that up.  Which created a strange reverb on my voice, along with the occasional feedback.  With the reverb and extra noise I couldn’t get it to fit my expectation and I didn’t want to pull Dan out of his woodworking zone for help and so, since I’ve been practicing the art of allowing recently, I decided to go with it.   I played around vocally with it, dropped some lyrics repeated others, added a vocal intro, vocal outro and a miracle occurred!  It worked in a mysterious way as it changed the entire perception of the song.  It was in commemoration to my first love who lost his life to an electrical accident but in this twist that took place with the recording, it became more of a past presence, lingering in nostalgia.  Perhaps a ghost reflecting on someone still living.  Which instantly sparked a whole movie idea in my head, that I think would be really awesome and surreal like Jessica Jones.  Is that show ever coming back?  I digress.  So back to my blogging.  Where was I Thursday, and then Friday...  OH YES, SATURDAY!  So all charged up and ready to go Saturday, I found my luck had run out.  I couldn’t get the next song I chose to work on.  After hours of trying, I put it on hold and came back strong on Sunday.  Sadly, Sunday was not the charm either.  If I had nothing else, I did have determination to crack this nut.  I worked it and worked it.  I got nothing but I did at least get closer to negotiations on what I wanted and what I might get, if I continue with the art of allowing.  So tonight… wish me luck!  Dan did finish his cutting board yesterday and I have added two pictures of it to the page I created for the purpose of sharing my two songs and pictures of both of the cutting boards Dan has now created.  The original one he made for me as a Christmas gift.  You can see them here and hear the song of nostalgia I recorded  

FYI-Dan and I have gone a very long time without doing music.  Too many life interruptions and the need to lay low, process our family losses and heal, has had us on hiatus.  We did try to rehearse a handful of times but it was just train wrecks, which is very disheartening, like going to the dentist and learning you have a cavity.  Hurts.  Makes it hard to find the motivation to go back but you know, not going back only makes it worse…  So we have been trying over and over again in between life’s demands.  Not easy.  This last time we went a full two weeks and then Dan burned his finger.  Placement of the burn was not great for guitar playing but doesn’t get in the way of woodworking.  It’s healing.  We’ll try again tonight…

ONE LAST THING:  (It's just a little twisted tune, ou, ou, ou, NO WAIT, it's an alternative tune source ;-) that showed up in my head as a radio wave.  Take it. Play with it. Mold it like Playdoh into something better or share it if it resonates with you.) 

To the tune of PINK FLYOD’S, “Another Brick In The Wall”:  
“We all need emancipation.  We don't need no thought control.  Or dark sarcasm cross the Twitter.  Leave those dreamer kids alone.  Alone, alone, HEY, leave them kids alone!  All in all it's just a Another Brick in the Wall.

We all need consideration. We all need some self-control. No grabbing women by the who ha. Or Russians messing with the polls.  Cuz all in all it's just a Another Brick in the Wall.  Yeah all in all it's just another brick in the wall.  

We all need an education.  Please don't put our needs on hold.  Without Healthcare we will suffer, in our progress as a whole.   On and on it's just another brick in the wall.  On and on it's just another brick in the wall.

Alone.  Don't just leave this  alone.

If you don't read my tweets, you won't get your news right.  You'll end up with false news, if you don't read my tweets!"


"And I will try to fix you" Coldplay


Music is the needle, that with precision, can pierce through “the wrinkle in time”.   With the right tune and words, one can pinch the fabric of time while sliding the listener, like a needle through the fabric to the past or the future, allowing the listener to experience once again, moments past or even emotions of a future self, the present self has not ever even experienced…

Wednesdays.  I would come home from school and my father had the stereo hooked up to play upstairs, downstairs and outside on the deck.  He would be working on that house that we lived in and that music was as wonderful a greeting as our dog, running to the door shaking her tail, doing her happy dance that I was home.  I loved it all!!!  One day, on comes this song by Mary Hopkins, "Those Were The Days".  Here is a link to the song on YouTube:     I felt nostalgia.  I didn't even know what it was except that there was a strange pang in my heart and my stomach and I just wanted to hug my Dad!  Over and over again as a child and young person, I have felt things that I had never experienced, through music.  I once heard someone say it's the language of the Soul.  The soul knows and recognizes it even when the mind doesn't or we can't find words for it.

My father loved music.  I loved my father.  I was the youngest born in my family.  I was at the bottom of the pecking order.  When the dominoes fell, I saw it in slow motion, eventually they would all fall on me.  When you’re the youngest, it serves you well to be observant.  This is even more true when the dominoes fall.  Throw in a pre-diabetic at the top of that pecking order and now those dominoes will fall very haphazardly, if you don’t know to look for a low blood sugar correlation. To a sensitive child like I was, survival seemed reliant on knowing just when that first domino would fall.  To a co-dependent child the survival of the family seemed reliant upon stoping the dominoes from falling altogether.  The mystery was not solved in time but I did think outside of the box.  What did my father love and how could I discover the stitch in time, in the form of a gentle persuasion?  What defied limitations in a society or a household where one could not speak truth or convince someone through logic?  Where there is dysfunction or confusion in the thought process the best tool I have ever found for communication is the language of the soul.  

When I was a child, my father nicknamed me Florence, short for Florence Nightingale.  I always wanted to fix what was broken.  Broken things make me sad.  My father wanted me to be a nurse.  He wanted me to marry a doctor.  He told me this many times.  I wanted to be a veterinarian/farmer’s wife.  I did not write because I wanted to.  I wrote because I had to.  I had to communicate and I had to do it well enough to convince people to stop breaking things, animals and people but as you may imagine, they did not listen.  THEY YELLED AT ME.  INTIMIDATED ME. They spoke over me.  They twisted my words and my actions.  So I wrote it and I left it for them to read or I sang it or I just wrote it for myself.  I shared it with others who had the same difficulty.  They shared with me their personal struggles and I wrote for them.   I loved to sing.  My father loved music.  It just seemed natural to try to communicate to him this way and yet he was never supportive of me pursuing music.  Being a singer or musician was not a job to him.  It was a way of life that broke people.  



Calling all dreamers


I imagine what it would sound like if I could put my ear down on the earth and listen to its heart beat, its breathe, its voice its request of me?  

I imagine if I laid down on the ground and listened to our planet and it could speak, it would say…

“The world had a dream
with a need for some creation.
So it created you
a manifestation
of the dream that it dreamed.  
Will you meet your destination?
With the dreams that you dream?  
The seed is there inside you.  
It’s fertilized by everything
in need of your attention.  
The world has created for you a destiny
will you meet your destination?
It’s a collective dream.  
Will you meet your destination?  
Calling all dreamers!  
Calling all dreamers!
Calling all dreamers!
To dream the dream!”

They say make a demand on a muscle and it expands to fill the demand.  What if we are the muscle?  I encourage you to find a quiet place and listen.  Listen to the one listening.  See if you can discover what your connection to life is and how you can meet the destination, life has appointed you.  It doesn’t have to be a grand thing.  It need only be something that supports life.  Maybe, yours is the life in need of support.  If that’s the case, you are in good company.  I have found myself in that position recently.  The past year was a doozy.  Losing my Mom to cancer was a devastation, I struggled to find my way through.  I previously thought losing my brother and then my father to cancer was too much.  Now, between the loss of my mother and having to trade in a president that I felt akin to, for one that seems in direct conflict with everything I believe in, regarding how we should treat people and how we as a nation should conduct ourselves, I have been emotionally exhausted, heart broken, anxious and I have had a hard time some mornings, just dragging myself out of bed.  So sometimes we have to concentrate on supporting ourselves.  A great way for me to support myself is to dream.  To believe better things are on the horizon.  To believe, I could be that better thing on the horizon for someone else, when I get back up and running.  So, I refuse to stop dreaming!  My dreams are actually more focused now as I have a better idea of what the world is asking of me.  I do believe that within each of us, lies the solution to a problem our world has had or is facing.  If we would only stop distracting ourselves with things designed to cater to the ego and start empowering each other to be who and what we are, we would amaze ourselves!  We would deliver the destiny, life dreamed up, when it conceived us.  


Stream of consciousness


It's 3:34 a.m..  I've been up for about an hour.  Like SOS coming through the pipes of the house that houses a ham radio operating station.  SOS find a way SOS - find a way SOS - find a way.  Maybe it's not ham radio maybe it's my pulse is it my pulse SOS - find a way SOS - find a way and it's slowly slowly slowing down.  I think I can make out the message.  “Find peace.  You've already found dysfunction, chaos and death.   Your creative enough to not settle for this dischord”.  Am I?  Are we? I wonder…


Was I dreaming?  Michael Landon, Bill Bixby,  what did they mean to say to me before the dots, dashes and voices came through the Television where their voices would have been?  


Bill Cosby.  Can we through out the bath water without the baby?  I struggle with this.  How do we move forward?  If we don't do it carefully we are doomed to find ourselves here again and again but is there a way to surgically remove what doesn't work for us as a society without discarding life and knowledge.  Something created the circumstances that gave him the idea to do what he did.  Somehow he found his way down the path and no one along that path was there to shut it down or help him shut it down.  I keep thinking dark actions come from dark places with the trail maybe always leading back to the original place where the original dark action took place.  A place where the offender was the offended.   


I hope we are careful to look upon where we are as a society with eyes that seek solutions.  I don't believe in witch hunts.  We always seem to find what we are looking for even in places it doesn't exist.  Perhaps I look for solutions in places it doesn't exist but if that is the case I do it because personally I need to believe that there's more to life than the ill intentions of others.  I have a hard enough time dealing with this feeling that I’m on the wrong planet at times as I look for life and intelligence.   Yet I can hear the world itself speaking so clearly through me as it interrupts my dreams with it's call for help.   Forgive me world as I choose now to try my best to go back to sleep.  


(Forgive me reader for my stream of consciousness and lack of punctuation and what not.)


Let's put on our thinking caps...


It was May 19, 2015 when I posted my blog titled, "Thinking Our Way to a Better Day".  An idea I had about turning malls into residential communities.  You can read it here if you like.  I really believe in our creative sides and our ability to use our creativity to play to our desires.  As a teenager, just about the time I found myself disenchanted with many things, I found the idea of a place like  Lake Anne in Reston, VA to be very romantic.  That there could be such an integration of all community members, their needs and the beauty of surrounding nature, gave me a very, all is right in the world feel.  Reston, was the brain child of Robert E. Simon.  Here's a link to information on him, including his list of goals for Reston's creation.  I love his goal number 3.  "That the importance and dignity of each individual be the focal point for all planning, and take precedence for large-scale concepts."  This past October I just happened to catch a group on the Kojo Nnamdi Show discussing the fate of a mall I used to go to as a child and asking, "Do local malls still matter?"  As I listened, RIGHT THERE, they actually brought up the same idea I had, RESIDENTIAL!  :-) 

I often wonder if other people realize that everybody really just wants to be okay?  To know their needs are being considered, weighed, and accounted for in the plans?  I am thankful that Robert E. Simon took time to do so.  I'm thankful for Theodor Seuss Geisel's (Dr. Seuss') story of "Yertle The Turtle".  I'm thankful that the idea of consideration was introduced to me at a young age.  I feel like whenever I am struggling with anything emotionally hard, I can always take a moment to be considerate of someone else and it takes the pressure of the struggling off of me, allowing me to open my mind to bigger things that can and should be accomplished.  

Here's some food for thought.  What would you suggest?  I like the idea that these store owners need to think of themselves along the same line as entertainment.  I like the line, "If you’re going to have the guts or the vision to open a retail store, then you should sell something that works within the environment,”--John Asadoorian   I wonder sometimes if it shouldn't be required that all public schooled children learn to play chess and do other things that keep them looking down the path and considering all the different directions they could move in.  

One last idea.  When my kids were little and toys were the number one preferred gifts.  We lived in a town home and I remember thinking it would be nice if we could take toys they weren't using currently and drop them off somewhere like a library.  Other children could check them out and enjoy them and my kids could check them out should they become interested in the toys again.  This could be done with tools we don't often use or buy for one particular project not to be used again. 

Anyway, give it some thought and see where it may take you.  Bring it up at your next family dinner, lunch with co-workers or next time you take public transportation.  Let's see what people come up with next...


"Who watches over you"-They Might Be Giants


Happy New Year!  

I had my kids here last week and did not want to pull myself away to blog.  If I had blogged, I was going to blog about how I think Oh Chong Song was the most interesting person of 2017.  To see him defect from North Korea, thru the demilitarized zone, was to me, to see Patrick Henry’s words put into action, “Give me liberty or give me death!”  “For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery”.  I would back this action with the song, “Big Country” by the band of the same name.  And those soldiers, the ones who risked their own lives to pull him to freedom, MY GOD, I sat in tears, eyes glued to the screen praying, “Keep them safe! Oh God, keep them safe.  Save him!  Let him make it!!!”  “Because it’s happened doesn’t mean you’ve been discarded.  Pull up your head off of the floor and come up screaming.  Cry out for everything you ever might have wanted.  I thought that pain and truth were things that really mattered but you can’t stay here with every single hope you had shattered!  I’m not expecting to grow flowers in a desert but I can live and breathe and see the sun in wintertime.  In a big country, dreams stay with you, like a lovers voice, fires the mountainside, STAY ALIVE!!!”  

I pray for his full recovery, his freedom and his peace.  I hope we all pay close attention to what happens when government is not by the people and for the people.  I hope each us of understands what the Forefather’s of our country set out to do when they organized our government.  I pray and beg you that we do not allow any man to put it asunder.    We here in the United States, have a heritage we need to protect, “To stand and protect liberty and allow it to enlighten the world”.

I leave you with They Might Be Giants, “Birdhouse In Your Soul”.


A silly Christmas song


I had a Blog already planned and penned yesterday and I meant to post it today but I've been so busy getting things ready for Christmas.  If you've been keeping up with my blog then you know it's been a really tough year for both Dan and I.  We had a lot of trips up north as a result.  However, this past weekend our trip up north was more for fun as Dan got to hang with his buddies and my family gathered at my best friend's Christmas party that she throws every year.  Now back home  I've been rushing around preparing to host Christmas Eve here at my house and ready things for house guests.  Well I've been running around today, I've had the AXS TV channel playing in the background and I got to listen to an interview with Crystal Gayle and and Dan Rather.  I grew up singing Crystal Gayle music and at one point I tried to grow my hair as long as I could, inspired by her.  AXS also had a  Dolly Parton special  on.  I admire her in so many ways, especially her attitude towards life.  Next, they had a special on Shania Twain, when I was making lunch.  I didn't get to see all of it but the three shows were very Soul filling.  Silly things happen when my soul gets filled.  It always makes me feel so full of myself.  Which is probably where I got all chirpy and found this song in my heart this evening.  It led me to feeling all  playful which lead to rolling underneath the Christmas tree and singing the song while creating this silly video...   Hope I can link it here.   Sometimes these sticky things work for me and sometimes they don't.  If it doesn't work maybe I'll just post my other blog that I wrote yesterday tomorrow.  Haha yesterday tomorrow did any of that make sense?  Maybe I'll post it anyway... Maybe...   Regardless I wish you a very merry Christmas or very joyful holiday season whichever is most appropriate for you. ❤️