C.A. MacConnell

Looks like I’ll be on the 9 News at 5:00 pm on Thursday, August 7. Interview with Carol Williams. I’m looking forward to it, but I haven’t seen any of the footage, so I’m curious as hell. And a little nervous as well, but hopefully it will help some people.

To tell you the truth, I’ve really been up/down lately. Mostly down, but still plugging along, dreaming about the Virginia mountains some, and planning on taking a trip there soon. The magic there usually makes me feel better. I feel like I need an outlet or something. Really feelin it lately. Hm.

I have been training for the Air Force Marathon, and that helps me release some energy. The race is coming up actually, in September…I feel ready, actually, strangely enough.

But overall, I’ve been feeling some loss. Just trying to crawl out of that and keep the momentum going. Up, down. That’s the way it goes.

Sorry to sound like such a downer. I am excited about the news thing…hope you get a chance to catch it! I’m hoping there’ll be a link to it so I can post it here…we’ll see.

Thanks, and take care, all,
Did I mention that I got a keyboard? Well, my mom got it for me at a garage sale, and all of the control buttons are written in Japanese, so I can’t read it. Funny. A lot of guess work is going down at the homestead.

later, tater,

C.A. MacConnell

Well, it seems that I’m going to be on the Channel 9 news. This afternoon, Carol Williams interviewed me in my home. Carol anchors the 5,6, and 11 o’clock news, and I found her to be a very warm individual. We had met before at a NAMI event, so that made me have less “camera jitters.”

My reason for doing this interview is threefold. One, to help bring awareness and combat stigma that exists regarding people with brain disorders. To tell bits of my story and let people know they are not alone. Two, I wanted to help call attention to the opening of The Lindner Center of Hope, a new center for treating those with these illnesses. And three, I wanted to mention my memoir, which I am working on publishing. I know, I’ve mentioned that a gazillion times, but it can’t hurt to slip it in again.

This on-camera experience went smoother than the last one. I felt relaxed, and my cat, Kylin, helped. He definitely got his 15 minutes of fame…he would not leave Carol alone. Or the cameraman. Or me, for that matter. I think he thought HE should be interviewed, not me. You’ll see what I mean.

It should air next Wednesday or Thursday. I will post another blog when I know for sure.

Also upcoming, several Living Out Loud writers, including Larry Gross, Gregory Flannery, Katie Laur, and myself, will be guests on Katie Laur’s radio show on WNKU. I assume we will sit around and talk about old war stories. It should be an adventure. This was supposed to happen already, but it had to be rescheduled…again, I’ll post a certain date on that when I know for sure.

Exciting stuff. I’m beat. I’m gonna go call my Mom, then eat sugar,

C.A. MacConnell

Hey y’all. Today in CityBeat, there is an excerpt from my memoir called, “Seeing Cloud People.” It’s in the Living Out Loud section. Check it out!

I’ll be publishing more sections in the paper in the weeks to come, so be on the lookout. It feels good to finally put some of these words out there, as they’ve only been read by very few. I picked some sections to print to give people a taste of what the writing’s all about, so I hope you dig it.

As far as publishing the whole book goes, I do have something in the works, but I’m in the waiting stages right now, so we’ll see how that pans out. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.

Some other pieces to mention
7/16, Music, Alone at 3am
7/23, Music, Molly Sullivan
Thanks for reading…I’m off to give a talk for NAMI. I’ve been busy with NAMI and the Lindner Center of Hope lately. It’s been nice to be a part of these progressive org’s.

Take care all! More when I can breathe a bit,
C.A. MacConnell

I have been choked up all morning, upon hearing the news that former local musician Katie Reider passed away today. Although I’ve only met her a few times, her music touched me to the core. I have one of her CDs, signed, next to me. Her message reads, “Christine, Enjoy the music! Peace, Katie Reider.”

I remember one particular show at York Street Cafe. My friend Steve and I were there, catching Katie’s set for the first time. We were blown away by her voice, and the unbelievably strong internal light that seemed to beam out from her eyes. Her shows always lifted me.

Katie has battled a nasty tumor for a while now, and I have followed her story on the net. Even in the throes of disturbing medical procedures, her writing voice remained strong and even full of humor, just as she was on stage. Reading her words, I was continually touched by her tenacity, wit, bravery, and honesty. And it made me realize how lucky we are to be here, present, on this earth for a time.

Thank you, Katie, for sharing your gifts with us — your words, your music, your spirit, and your love. You will truly be remembered closely in many, many hearts.

C.A. MacConnell

Photo from www.flickr.com

Heya. Well, I’m no longer a camera virgin. I mean, it was my first time on camera this week. Let me back up…

The Lindner Center of Hope will be opening soon. It’s a hospital that’ll treat those with mental illnesses, focusing on recovery and integrated treatment, something that’s much needed in the area. In preparation for the opening, The Center is shooting a video that will be used as an educational tool. I was one of the people selected to tell my story on camera. I haven’t seen the finished result, but while they were interviewing me, I found myself thinking of Barbara Walters, and how she and her guests make it look so easy. I mean, in my life so far, I’ve interviewed a slew of bands and others, but it was interesting to be on the other side of things for a change. And that camera looked like a big, black hole. A scary socket.

I found myself talking about my hospital experiences (around 3 years ago and 8 years ago), and there were some things that happened that I think most people wouldn’t even believe–things one sees in the movies. Filth, danger, yeah. A woman screaming at the voices in her head. A man locked in the padded room. Skin rashes, sleeplessness, strange cuts and bruises, wrapped wrists, beds without pillows, nurses who ignore and ignore. Therapists so cold that it was the antithesis of aid. And on and on. I found myself remembering the worst of it. And I found myself grateful that there is a new Center coming, one focused on loving care. So desperately needed.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to tell my story. On camera, even harder. Not the speaking part, but hard still. Hard, in the sense that it makes me relive things, as if a ghost were in the room. Ghosts with feet. But on the other hand, it reminds me to keep on fighting this fight. It reminds me to keep on the path of recovery, whether or not I’m feeling symptoms that day.

After a lifetime of dealing with bipolar disorder, and 9 or so years in treatment, yeah, I still feel symptoms. The past two weeks, depression crept in like a motherfucker. Before that, I was running around anxious and wild, wanting to ditch my cats and move to the desert. But I didn’t have to act on my restless mind, and today, I feel sweetly level. I keep reminding myself that the rough spots will fade, that “This too shall pass.” And my chatterbox brain comes in handy in the art of writing.

It’s strange and interesting to be so vocal about one’s brain disorder. F’n hard to get a date after someone reads your raw story somewhere. But it’s also freeing. I mean, now I have nothing to hide. Well, I did eat a pint of cookies n cream the other day, but that’s beside the point.

Anyway, I’m proud to be on this video, and I hope it can help some people. And I’m proud to say that I’m still trucking, working on getting my memoir published. I will not give up. One way or another, this thing’s gonna be on some coffee tables.

I’ve also started teaching a yoga class at The Recovery Center of Hamilton County on Auburn Avenue here in town. That class is a relaxed one focused on helping people with various brain disorders. The people there are such brave fighters. It lifts me each week. I am honored to teach them.

Hope you are all well. I’m off to work on some articles. I’m drinking hot chocolate in the summer because I can,
C.A. MacConnell

My brother Matt played here. At the PGA Professional National Championship, Atunyote Golf Club, Verona, New York. What a gorgeous course. When he plays, I follow his scores online. Rock on, bro! And happy birthday to you!

Christine

Now, I’m not a crazy cat woman, but these guys rock. Kylin (silver tiger) and Tree (black & white) are my buds. Ky acts more like a dog — he’ll fetch and rest in my lap or sit on my shoulder while I’m typing. When ANYONE comes over, Kylin wants some loving. Tree, on the other hand, only likes me. And he likes to be touched, but only for a moment, and then he moves, shifts, talking up a storm, always coming back for more, but only selectively. Shy one. Total opposites, yet they adore each other. Hmm.

Today, I’ve spent some time reading other people’s blogs. It seems that everywhere, everyone is going through some weird spell. One guy is pissed he doesn’t have enough time for his music. Another is angry for some unknown reason, but his blog has one of those angry faces on it, so I know he’s angry. A girl is numb. Another can’t sleep. One man feels like a kid again — utterly starving for love. Is there some sort of universal angst going on? I’m feeling it too. Must be something in the warm air.

I’ve been anxious, unsettled, feeling like change is coming on, but not knowing what it is. I’ve been lost and lonely, even while in a crowded room. There are 41 CDs on my list of those I want, and the list is growing, never shrinking. I run and I run, and when I stop, I think, now what. I chew gum, spit it out, chew another piece. Again and again. I go on dates that lead nowhere. My saddle is sitting in my room, but I haven’t ridden in a long time. My memoir is sitting on my desk, finished. Sitting on my desk. Sitting on my desk. Sitting.

Everything’s up in the air. Everything feels still. Annoyingly still. See, the universal angst has caught up with me too. If it’s fucking growing pains, bring it on.

I find myself thinking, why can’t I just be like the cats? Why can’t I curl up, rest, and just be. Because I am not a house cat. I am a lion. Or a wolf. No, a horse. Unicorn? I give up.

Here are my upcoming CityBeat pieces:
June 11, Music, The Sweep
June 18, Living Out Loud, The Mother Rose
July 2, Music, Walk the Moon
July 9, Music, The Working Title

When one is in the midst of universal angst, it’s a good idea to make a gratitude list. So here goes:

I am grateful for:
1. I have eyebrows. So many girls pluck ‘em down so thin, and I like mine the way they are, even though the lady at the beauty salon wanted to pluck mine really badly. Screw her.
2. As far as I know, my body is in working order.
3. I got a new A/C unit in my apartment. OK, it’s freezing in here, but I’m not complaining.
4. Juicy Fruit gum is still around.
5. I slept last night. Okay, I woke up 3 or 4 times, but that’s nothing.
6. My girlfriends help me keep my head screwed on straight.
7. Add my doctor and parents to #6.
8. Cookies n Cream rocks.
9. My microwave is a good cook.
10. I don’t have bed bugs.

Growl,
C.A. MacConnell

For starters, Upcoming CityBeat Publications:

May 21, Music, Josh Eagle
May 21, Music, Jason Dennie
May 28, Living Out Loud

It’s been a while. And I feel the need to puke out a bunch of words here. Beware. But even though this entry might come out like a whirlwind, it all makes sense in the end, I promise. Stay with me.

What have I been doing? Lots. I feel like I need extra arms and legs. Like a spider. I love spiders.

Let’s see, for starters, I’ve been running. Running like I’m on my last legs. And sometimes, honestly, I feel like that. Other times, I feel light, floaty, you get the idea. Anyway, on May 4, I ran the Flying Pig Marathon for the first time. Now, don’t get all excited yet, because I only ran the half marathon, which was 13.1 miles. Not the full 26.2. But still, for me, that distance was quite the mother. By the way, Happy Mother’s Day. I just saw my Mom, and she rocks.

Here comes the “too much information” part: anyway, so I ran the race in 2 hours and 15 minutes, and it went well, except I had to stop to piss once, and there was a line, which knocked about 10 min. off my time…Now, I don’t know why I cared, because it wasn’t like I was one of the front runners, but I found myself thinking…a line? In the middle of a marathon? I thought that was weak. Still, I waited, feeling like an ass. I can’t help it, I’m competitive by nature. The Leo in me I guess, if you believe in such things. But, alas, when you gotta go, you gotta go.

I’ve let a bunch of things slide lately, due to having fun running and finishing up my yoga teacher training. And…I’m finally done!! Woo hoo! I’ve actually been teaching for a while now (on the sly), but now I’m officially certified, so pretty soon I’m going to try to get all of you to do a headstand, whether you like it or not. I love being upside down. Yes, I am strange. But these days, I kind of like being strange. And I like meeting strange people too.

Other than that, more of the usual…article writing, working on getting my book published, paying bills, buying cool t-shirts I really don’t need (one has a spider on it and it’s my favorite).

Keep reading, I’m getting there. Today I ran 11 miles in a thunderstorm. People were huddled together at the bus stop, staring at me like I was crazy. But for some reason, drenched to the bone, I felt this strange sense of freedom. I often like to run around in the rain. Especially a downpour. Bring it on, I’ll swim in it. I never owned an umbrella until a few years ago, when I got one as a free gift, but I’ve never used it. I’m funny that way. I used to like riding horses in the rain too. Not sure if the horses liked it, but I think some did. Who knows. I just have hunches. And I have a hunch that running is 99% mental and 1% physical. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little.

But I’m not exaggerating here — I’ve been meeting some incredible musicians lately. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I’m really enjoying hearing such talent coming from our city. I realize I have some sweet jobs…yoga and writing. I am grateful.

Now, from running to walking. May 10 was the NAMI Walk. The starting line was down at Sawyer Point, and the walk was held to raise funds for the National Alliance on Mental Illness. I’ve been going to this walk for years. The first one involved a handful of people stomping around in the pouring rain. This year, the sun was gorgeous, and the numbers were huge. The biggest yet. They were also backed by Channel 9. Not to mention, there was the coolest jazz band playing. Honestly, I almost wanted to skip the walking part and watch the band, but I’m a trooper, and I walked on. I was so pleased to see all of the support. And thanks to my family members for coming out too! Go Macs! This entire area is really making strides in the Mental Health arena…

In August, The Lindner Center of Hope will be opening up in Mason. I did some writing that’ll be featured in a video which promotes the center’s many progressive features. The center should really set a new standard of care for the hospitals in this city, and it’ll be a huge step for Cincinnati and the surrounding areas. Never before have we had such a center, one that will treat the whole person, rather than just one symptom. Care based on respect, loving treatment, and yes, indeed, hope. I am thrilled to be a part of the promotion process.

Now, I’m finally getting to the point here, I promise…in an effort to combine aspects of my life — writing, yoga, and mental health — I’ve been working to create yoga classes at different recovery centers, such as The Mighty Vine and The Recovery Center. My goal is to teach classes, share my writing, and help people recover from serious brain disorders, aiding in the rebuilding process and helping to prevent episodes from reoccurring.

Isn’t it strange how life leads you to pursue different dreams? I’ve been all over the map with different interests, but one thing’s for sure — the writing has always been there. The interest in healing the body has always been there. The love for music is ingrained in me. And the passion for building the spirit has always been there.

It’s all coming together.

It’s all coming together.

Just how it should be.

Beautifully.

Unfolding, one moment at a time.

If you just keep on truckin’.

Pretty soon, I’ll be updating the blog with a time or two for some new yoga classes at recovery centers in the area. Stay tuned. Thanks for playing.

I love spiders,

C.A. MacConnell

Hi there. This is a sneak peek at the beginning of my book. I haven’t decided on the title yet, obviously. Of course, now it’s typed and all that jazz, but just thought I’d share the raw beginning. So what’s going on with the book? Well, I’m STILL making my way through the jungle of publication. I feel like Max in Where the Wild Things Are. Ah, my favorite childhood book.

Obviously, I got my ancient camera working too. And the workman fixed my sink and light fixtures. And the car is actually running. I ran 13 miles this morning. I can’t even believe I did that. Life is good and simple.

I feel awesome. It’s crisp and rainy out, and I’m glad to be well and writing away for CityBeat, as well as teaching some yoga. As soon as I finish my yoga training, I plan to continue an old book I started, one riddled with bands and music. Cool project. But first, I have to get this memoir to the public, so I’m still waiting to hear from some people on that. Arg, patience. Not one of my best qualities.
I have a bunch of music pieces coming up, so stay tuned. I’ll have some dates soon. Enjoy the rest of your Sunday. I know I will. Naptime.

Best,
C.A. MacConnell

Here is a picture of my friend Steve and me finishing the Mercy Heart Mini Marathon that happened on March 30th downtown. I was shivering. The morning was freezing, and I didn’t have enough clothes on, but once we started running, I was fine. Smooth sailing. I felt really good the whole time. I’ve been training for a while, and Steve’s been my coach of sorts. Thank you. 9.6 miles, down the drain.

I used to run when I was a kid, and I just picked it up again here last year. I tried running this thing when I was like 15 years old, but I had to walk part of it. Not this time! It was a great day for me. Next stop: Flying Pig Marathon. This year, I’m only running the half marathon, 13.1 miles. I’m not ready for the full yet. Yet.

Running is like a moving meditation for me. Helps me settle my mind. And it’s like life — sometimes it’s a rough uphill climb, and other times, it’s an easy glide home. Perhaps I’m getting too metaphoric here. I have nothing more artsy to say. I’m too distracted by the Spring.

Hope you’re all out there running or walking or biking or sitting or eating ice cream or whatever you do.
Another tattoo,
C.A. MacConnell