becoming a river

resisting the empty drawers' invitation

2010-07-28T20:19:00.000-07:00

almost a year has
passed since the
divorce, and
nearly two years
since he left...
so far,
i've resisted the
empty
dresser drawers'
invitations to
fill them with
my clothes...

that would feel
too much like giving
up
too much like
admitting
the remoteness
of the possibility
i'll find
someone new
to share the
last 30+ years
of my life with...

some dreams
die hard
______________

i'm spending
the entire weekend
doing art and
listening to
music

feels good

three carts.... first day homeless

2010-07-28T20:16:00.000-07:00

black asphalt,
concrete sidewalk,
three shopping carts loaded way
too full, like morning light
flooding the crosswalk
where she waits,
in motionless,
silence...
light goes green,
still waiting, still waiting,
still, so still,
waiting...

single woman
my age
hands on one
cart, two left
behind, ready
to push off, but
where to go?
how to get there?
who to call?
what to leave behind?
wandering, wondering:
when will life change?
nothing makes
sense

in the raw hours
of morning, long
before night falls
she feels her
normal life
dropping away
off the cliff, feels
the cloak of
homelessness
drape itself
cold and heavy
across her
shoulders.

chameleon

2010-07-23T19:51:00.000-07:00

sometimes i hear myself
conversing with people in the hall
at work, people at the ball park, people
at the grocery store.... and i realize
i have several different voices
and layers of personality...
each one geared to fit the person,
the environment,
the situation, my comfort level...
there are very few people with whom
i feel comfortable being completely myself...
not everyone is able to accept or understand
the weird way my heart
and mind work... those few who do, i truly cherish.

i took my longtime friend to lunch
for a belated birthday
yesterday and as we talked and
laughed about life's strangeness,
i marvelled at how he navigates
all my myriad and contradicting moods,
my fast-paced philosophical musings,
my need for attention. he simply said...
"well, i love you, so that makes it easy."
and that was the truth...
there are many different kinds of love,
and love that makes room for you
to be yourself is the best of all.

fragile

2010-07-23T19:45:00.001-07:00

not until you stop at your parents house
and see how fragile they've become do you
give up on the idea of finding a way to tell them what's
really going on in your life... shelter is all you want to
provide... comfort and assurance that all is well
in your life... so you hide the ring finger that you've
taken the gold and diamond from, you tell them
pretty stories of tahoe and of your success as a supervisor
and you tell them nothing of what's real.... instead you ask
"what needs doing here?" you say "i'm not the daughter that brings you
homemade dinners, but i know how to work hard... what
can i do to help?" dad says, "your mom keeps tripping on the
stepping stones to the garden. we'll have to take them out some
day when you have more time." i say "i have time now." dad says
"ah, no. it'd take half a day." i say "i can do it in 20 minutes.
get me a pick and a wheelbarrow." so he does and i do.
my mom starts to cry watching me work.... she says
"you have to work so hard and then you come here and do more"
i say "i'm happy to do it. i love being physical and think of all
you did for me when i was growing up." this makes her cry even more.
she wonders aloud what she did to deserve such a loving daughter.
i tell her "you are a loving mother... that's where i learned how to
be loving." i hold her and feel every ounce of her concern as a mother,
and then i realize that my own child is going through
a tough time of his own and hiding it from me
because i am fragile too...
no apple ever falls far from the tree.

heart leap cliff

2010-02-13T08:53:00.000-08:00

at work
almost out the door for a walk,
i see a friend
through the control room glass

i motion:"come with?"
he beams a smile and
gives a thumbs up then,
just like in the movies,
he sprints out the door...

i hear his footsteps
following me and his
playful voice calls out
"hey gorgeous!"
i blink and turn...

on his face: a look of pure joy
for me/for escape/for yes...
it feels like a miraculous light
flooding toward me, and

for the first time
in a long time my
heart leaps up lighter
than air but then

drops off a cliff,

remembering
he's married to
the kind of woman i
admire

brass cup accordion

2009-06-23T18:45:00.000-07:00

thin and frail
he's walking down
the middle of the vacant
graveled street tucked in a
no-man's land between
the busy bridge and a freeway
where commuters fly by
in their oblivious stupors...
except me... i'm captured
by this apparition of a
starving musician,
his accordion trails him
on a tiny pair of wheels
with a rickety metal handle
which he drags behind
him slowly, his other hand
clutches a small brass cup
that looks more like a
miniature spittoon with its
small rim bending outward
like a silent beggar's hand...
as i pass him, i note his
buck-toothed smile and receding chin,
a dark slab of hair hangs
across his face like a half
drawn curtain, he leans in
the direction he's headed
still nothing about him hurries...
it's like he's a glistening
bubble floating by, but more
precious and fragile

the right illusion?

2009-05-02T08:33:00.000-07:00

if you have 15 minutes,

first watch this, then come back to read

the rest of the blog...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UyyjU8fzEYU

at age 10 on the school playground,

my best friend and i had a favorite

"sport" that involved two adjacent

swings. the swing set at our catholic

school was industrial strength, with the

thick iron poles planted firmly in the

asphalt, the structure never rocked

even a micro-inch no matter how

wildly you were swinging... so my

friend and i discovered that if we

sat in two adjacent swings and each

walked backward as far away diagonally

from the other as we could, and then ran full speed

in an arc toward eachother, the chains of

our swings would spiral around eachother

winding us up into this ball of energy

and then reach a point of maximum

tension which would then begin to

uncoil in a wild spin full of centrifugal

force that left us giddily dizzy and giggling

with uncontrollable joy. each time we

made the charge toward eachother,

i discovered i could make the ride

even more intense if i leapt into the

air and leaned outward as far as i could

just before our chains met, and being

the intensely physical person that i am,

i strove to charge faster and lean out farther

each time. this was all very wonderful until

that moment my left forehead hit the

unforgiving solid pole planted in the ground.

i bounced back as if my head had been

a rubber ball hitting a wall and stars

dazzled me blind... i nearly lost

consciousness, but i am a hard headed

one, so i dismounted the swing and

walked to the nurses office where a

huge knot the size of a golf ball formed

on the left side of my forehead....

to make a long story short, i often wonder

if the damage to my left brain (the place

where linear thinking occurs) has left

me predisposed to experience life more

from a right-brain perspective.

having watched the scientist in

the video (linked above) describe

the expansive sensations of her spiritual

awakening and realizing her descriptions

perfectly echo some of my most profound moments

of spiritual enlightenment reached through

meditation, i'm left in awe and also feeling

perplexed by the idea that my brain function

can so intensely affect my perception of reality...

which in turn makes me realize the zen buddhist

concept of everything being an illusion is

is for me a deeply true wisdom.

barefoot pajama gardener

2009-04-22T20:08:00.000-07:00

fair morning light blinks me awake
through green jasmine leaves...
gardening barefoot in my pajamas

tending to the garden
was my spouse's thing
now he's gone and
taken his green thumb
to more exotic gardens

i'm almost shy getting
to know my garden here
timidly coaxing it to
become my new friend

asking it to accept
my imperfection, my
clumsy attempts to provide
what things it needs

nobody but a garden
wakes as early as i do
nobody but a garden
has enough life to take
up all my morning energy

(um... wait, that's not exactly,
completely true...i have to admit,
there've been some times when
a man drew bliss from all my
good morning energy)

i'm reminded of this
noticing how kfog's acoustic sunrise
seems to be featuring songs
i'd interpret as encouragement
to those of us stepping into
springtime without a true love
by our side... songs like
csny "carry on"
the who "bargain"
chris isaak "solitary man"

all these make me
relax and let go of the idea
that i am alone in being alone,
make me realize i'm really
pretty happy here by myself
gardening barefoot in my pajamas

go out and love the world

2009-04-22T06:40:00.000-07:00

one profile question on a buddhist dating service asks "what three people would you like to have dinner with?" my answer was: jesus because he was a rebel for love, leonardo da vinci because he was a visionary inventor and artist, and laurie, my writing teacher because she is brilliant, courageous and would ask tough questions that would set the conversation on fire... (i didn't choose the buddha because i imagine him to be an enigmatic man of few words, and who wants that at a lively dinner party?) anyway... one guy responds to my profile saying he liked that i would invite jc to my dinner party. and i thought "wow. i never think of jesus as having a nickname, but yeah" and then this morning i notice that my favorite columnist in the sf chronicle (who's agnostic by the way) shares the same initials: jc. i see a lot of similarities between the two jc's... they are both outspoken they both preach love and they both are/were very charismatic. so i read jc's article this am after my beautiful swim on this gorgeous spring morning and he's talking all about torture... not exactly the same groove i was in but that's what i also like about both jc's... they shake things up and make you think, they take risks and encourage us to open ourselves to love one another... here's the link to jc's article: http://www.sfgate.com/columnists/carroll/ now go out and love the world.

seen

2009-01-15T08:00:00.001-08:00

the winter sun, low in the sky
baking a coral glaze onto bare branches
of tan birch trees lined up waiting for
this moment of benediction
_____________

young sepia skinned girls gathering
under cypress trees on the cliffs
above the ocean, waves crashing
against the earth, their soft voices
speaking in their mother tongue,
headdresses woven with stones,
shells and urchin quills rest like
crowns on their glossy black hair,
the shells dangle and clatter in the wind
their fathers walk by with their flutes
and stringed instruments, playing a
song that weaves itself between the
sound of their voices and the sound
of the waves...
this was my beautiful dream
last night
___________________

the curve of my son's neck, his
face drifting downward to kiss his
beautiful girlfriend goodbye with
the glow of the tiny porch light mightily
holding back winter's darkness

good mom

2009-01-13T12:06:00.001-08:00

your sixteen year old kid goes to bed
feeling intense pain in his stomach
you give him tums, remind him to
drink water, put a bowl by his bed
and tell him you'll check on him later

you sleep until 1:30 am and do as
you promise... he's still in pain, you ask
about his symptoms, you put a thermometer
in his mouth, you describe to him your zen
breathing techniques, describe how to go into
the pain bringing his full attention to it, you tell
him not to resist the pain, to accept it in as though
it was his new best friend, you tell him to breathe
into his belly and then to push the breath down
through his leg into his big toe and then exhale from
his big toe, you tell him to keep breathing that way
into the next toe and the next and the next and the next
and keep doing that slowing breathing through all
the parts of his foot, then up the leg and continue
all the way through every part of his body,
then you leave him and go online to check out
the meaning of his symptoms, you return to him
and take the thermometer, he stands up and a
bewildered look crosses his face... he says:
"the pain's gone! it's completely gone!"
you smile an inward smile,
thinking silently to yourself:
"you're a good mom"

bad mom

2009-01-13T12:03:00.000-08:00

that moment that you
get angry at your kid for
everything all at once;
all of the stuff that
you've been holding inside
and stewing over
is not a good moment...

your heart fills up with poison
and you hear the angry words
start spewing out your mouth
all about attitude, self-centeredness,
lack of communication, disrespect,
the consequences of his careless
actions landing on your shoulders
instead of on his, where they belong....

it really sucks to let yourself
come unglued and become so
intense, but man, when i was his age
i was incredibly responsible...
i was raising cattle and chickens,
always did my farm chores and homework
pretty much getting all A's in school....
but it was out of fear of the
consequences: getting hit or shunned,
and out of having no social life
outside of school hours...
so there's a big difference
between his life and mine.

aauuuuggghhhhhh!

maybe i'm just angry
that he takes the good
things in his life for granted

or maybe i'm angry at myself
for not helping him learn how
to really appreciate what he has

not to be cheesy

2008-11-05T05:56:00.000-08:00

ok, so i admit my new photo
seems a little over the top....
one friend said it reminded him
of those cheesy power tool calendar
photos you'd see in hardware stores
in the 70's, which is not at all the
image i want to create for myself,
so a little explanation is in order:

i am an outdoor gal who loves to work
with her hands especially if it involves
power tools. i've always wanted a sawzall
and when i went to help my sister and
brother-in-law do some work on their
cabin, i couldn't resist his sawzall... it's
sort of symbolic of me conjuring up enough
courage to sever some ties and rebuild
my life into what i think it can be.
so to me, this image is a little more like
the Rosie the Riveter poster reminding
me that i can do it.

fling

2008-11-03T12:18:00.000-08:00

lately i've been giving in
to sudden impulses to fling things heedlessly:

frosting from a birthday cake playfully grazing my son's hair from across the party table

q-tips at my gym into the trash from way across the room

a coin found on the floor into a narrow necked

ceramic vase 15 feet away

a woven basket of bread from across the kitchen onto the table
landing inches in front of the tall lit candle, making the candle wobble only a tiny bit and lose just one drip of wax onto the tablecloth

these things magically make it to their targets against all odds

i view this as some sort of sign that, having madly
flung myself out of my comfortable life into the unknown,
i am sailing in midflight and i will surely eventually land
exactly where i am supposed to

awake

2008-11-02T05:47:00.000-08:00

i wake up next to him
warm skin touching warm skin
and silently study the features
of his face... it feels like i've known
this face my whole life but at the
same time, like i've never seen it before....
even amid this vivid dichotomy i feel some
deep love for the trust of this human
sleeping peacefully next to me...
suddenly his eyes pop open wide
and he turns his head to look at me,
he says in a mystified voice
"i was sound asleep and then
i just felt this intense energy. it woke me
up it was so powerful."

i started to wonder if i'm the buddha
or if he is, but then decide it's neither
of us but rather it's our connecting energy
with each other, ventured into with
whole-hearted trust, kindly and boldly
opening ourselves to eachother
despite all fears... making room for love
that is the buddha

orange - benedict - pig

2008-10-14T15:20:00.001-07:00

orange

i grab an orange and
my black sweater before
i fly out the door to work
this morning... the orange rolls
around on the passenger seat
of the car as i weave through
traffic on the freeway, maybe
i'm going faster than i should...
listening to seether fills me
with adreneline, i back my foot
off the accelerator wisely

i pull on my black sweater
and tuck the orange in
the crook of my arm as i
stride from my car to the elevator,
then hold the elevator door open for jose
and he steps in then remarks on
the nice weekend weather, i respond
in agreement mentioning how beautiful
my hike along the bay was yesterday,
and he adds "it turned orange"
i say, "ya it was a great sunset"
he says, " i mean the fire on angel
island was orange, i could see it from
my house last night." the elevator
stops with a jerk, my orange
hits the floor and rolls out the open door.
_________________

benedict

yesterday morning at breakfast
i order something unusual... dean's
is known for their omelettes, but i order
eggs benedict instead... i forget to tell
the waiter to cook the eggs well because
runny whites of eggs seem too much like snot
and i won't eat them if they're that way, but
i'm engrossed in a conversation and i forget...
the eggs arrive and the waiter lays down
my plate of benedict apologizing because
they are cooked too solid, i look and am happy
to see they are cooked just the way i like them....
slightly liquid yolks but solid whites. i tell the
waiter they're perfect and that the chef must
have intuited i would prefer them that way...
the waiter says, "well he must intuit that for
everyone because he cooks them all that way."
______________________

pig

i hate when men
who say they love me
also say that men are pigs

now, just what am i to think?

they immediately exclude themselves
from the pig category telling me
they're not like other men

i decide to think men are chameleons

this morning on the way to work,
i get a text from a man who says he loves me...
i have to laugh even though my heart sinks
when i notice the cruel irony of the song
that's blaring from my stereo when his text
arrives... it's "pig" by seether

weaving of mists and trees

2008-09-30T00:20:00.000-07:00

It grew into a wild, beautiful tangle of limbs and branches, leaves and mist... a mystical silence, a pulsing paradox. Inside this was a flutter of wings, the call of birds, green dancing leaves made alive in the trembling breeze, sound and motion feathering the cool mist which was neither grey nor blue but something impossibly more, something illuminated from within... as if each drop of mist was a pinpoint rainbow, shimmering with radiance. This was all real yet this was also only an illusion...

Her senses became both alert and at peace, full and empty, a gentle balance point hovering between the "not two-ness" of things. And branch by branch, leaf by leaf, drop by drop, she rewove the tangle into a beautiful blanket under which she would lie someday with her new partner in peace and understanding.

A tree is roots and branches, twigs and leaves, earth, air and water and also something more....
Roots

She tried to tell him that no matter how much water, earth and sunlight you give a tree, it cannot survive if you chop away at its roots. To her, the roots of their relationship were trust and understanding but his brutal axe had little appreciation for this. By the time she watched her mom battling cancer, she finally said to him "Life is short. Do whatever makes you feel most alive and happy, you have complete freedom in this, just share what it is with me and all will be well" But the offer of unconditional love was too late. He continued to deceive and conceal things despite her openness. He convinced her that his happiness was in Thailand and he would find it by spending a month alone there. But before he left....

best mother's day ever

2008-05-20T22:00:00.000-07:00

there is nothing that could have made me happier
than to get a last minute call, as i drove home from
santa cruz, from my best friend asking if i would mind
babysitting her granddaughter (my goddaughter)
with her the night before mother's day
the three of us sharing my bed, a jumble of laughter, warmth
and peace... there is nothing more sweet than waking up
in the middle of the night and feeling
my goddaughter's tiny arm resting
across my breasts, her hand clutching my arm...
this is my true family, this is love at its best..
then the next morning, my friend and i watching
this little miracle sleep, taking pictures, whispering
to one another, trying not to wake her, but then
my friend saying something so funny, we are laughing
uncontrollably, writhing on the bed in tears, our
stomachs aching... best mother's day present ever.

warrior babe

2008-05-20T21:53:00.000-07:00

last night, after my spouse left me
at the counselor's to pay the bill
i start to break down as i write the check...
ben, the counselor says gently
"you gonna be ok"
in such an ambiguous tone
i can't tell if it's a statement
or a question, but i feel his deep concern
which makes me bury my face in my hands
and completely loose it.
by the time i get home, i'm
totally exhausted and just fall into bed
after making some required phone calls
and checking the computer for e-mail

in the morning, i decide to start fresh,
i go for a swim at 7 am, shower and get things
together for my drive to santa cruz to see
my mom, dad, sisters, brothers-in-law, and nephew...
it's a long trip and my spouse says i should take his car
i've only driven his new camry hybrid
once before, so when i start down the road
and notice an orange indicator warning light
i pull over and call him to ask whether its something
i need to worry about or if i can keep driving...
he doesn't know... hmmmm... for a second, i consider
turning around and taking my own car, because
my self-confidence is so low, i've convinced myself
that figuring out what to do about the warning light
is beyond me... but the minute i recognize how beaten down
i've become (plus the thought of the price of gas)
i dig a little deeper inside myself and see what
courage, energy and self-reliance i can muster.

my friend, the artist, often tells me that in these moments,
i need to get in touch with my "warrior babe"
which always makes me laugh because i can clearly see
a picture of myself at age 5 being just that
with a ferocious look on my face, arms flexed showing
off my muscles, fully believing i'm totally invincible.

so i drive to the nearest gas station,
pull up to the the air pump, stop the car,
get out the car owner's manual, check the index,
find the translation for the warning light,
see it means some tire's not properly inflated,
get out the tire manual, find the correct psi,
(there's a different psi for cold vs. hot and
front vs. back... so i have to make a judgement call)
plus there's a big warning that "improperly inflated
tires can cause tire failure"... i shudder remembering
the last time i had a blow-out on the freeway
and i don't want to repeat the experience...
so i lurch out of the car resolved to muddle
my way through the problem and get back
on the road to santa cruz as fast as possible cuz i'm late....
as i'm strong-arming the stubborn, retracting air hose,
whipping it around quickly and confidently
to reach all the tires without scratching the car,
i feel someone watching me...
i look up as i'm inflating the last tire,
(which is down to 20 psi whereas it should be at 30 psi)
and i catch sight of a brother over at the gas pumps
leaning on his truck just taking in all my activities...
he quickly gives me a thumbs up and a smile... he says:
"you sho ain't no sissy! i like that! you doin good."

suddenly i start to believe that i'm
gonna survive just fine on my own afterall

six word story for boneman

2008-04-06T07:56:00.000-07:00

secret life... expanding sky held inside

thanks to boneman for a fun assignment! check the comments on this post for the rules if you want to play too.

deck chairs on the titanic

2008-04-01T21:39:00.000-07:00

this is not about a
full grown man on a clear blue day
on a sidewalk near San Francisco bay
wearing a down-and-out dingy white and
brown spotted dog costume...
shaggy fur all matted and crusty
knees worn bare, body curved
in full concentration at his task

it’s not about his menagerie
of seven dogs lined up on a bench
in order from smallest to largest, each
patiently letting him fidget and arrange
their brightly cellophaned top hats,
adjusting their rubber-band chin straps,
as if angling their hats just so
will attract an audience
and a pocketful of coins

this is about
the fine line between
brilliance and the absurd,
between enlightenment and insanity…
it’s about a woman finding herself
thirty years into a marriage
calling it quits and hurling
her life into a tiny boat
with a rusty compass and no anchor,
it’s about mistaking the
passionate attentions
from an unexpected messenger
for the message,
it’s about the futility of
trying to set a steady course
through converging waves, surges
and currents… it’s about
improvising and failing and
sinking and starting over.

surfacing from submerged

2008-03-26T19:18:00.000-07:00

how long can one hold their breath
without either developing gills or
giving in to the deep darkness?

of course there is another option...
coming up for air.
i've tried to coax myself into resurfacing
with even a few words... but they elude me

or is it maybe that i've felt such a
tidal shift that i want to create a new blog
to hold it all in a new space?

despite my dutiful nature, i've decided
not to write out of obligation or guilt
but instead to write from inspiration...
i think i'm finally coming up for air
and with my first breath,
maybe a few worhtwhile words will escape.

all i can say with any certainty now is:
"aaaaaauuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh!"

and

thanks for your being here to listen

olive and ivy

2008-01-11T23:46:00.000-08:00

the gardener discovered
an olive tree and an ivy vine
whose two kinds of bark and green
were dense and thickly tangled...
leaf shapes and colors so completely
different in character and design
yet grown so inexorably intertwined
over thirty years together
that now they were choking
the life out of eachother...
the gardener knew that taking
these two apart would kill
one, the other, or both.
the gardener sat down to
regard the stark beauty
of a task
so impossible
to begin

the waves at mavericks

2007-12-12T20:42:00.000-08:00

there are moments
when feelings overwhelm and
drown me like a mammoth wave, i hold
my breath and swim for surface,
wish for sky-enlightenment....
in those moments i'm caught
unprepared, as when the artist
comes up behind me, silent,
as i speak with his daughters,
him pulling my hips into his
with his strong hands
the warmth of desire,
presented with kindness
and respect, saying only:
you are a good woman,
i see you, you are loved.
i put my hands on his
and climb into this as if
his hands are a sturdy boat
and mine are oars to row.

zzzzzzzzzzip!

2007-11-29T16:21:00.000-08:00

i was 25
married only 7 months
just moved to san francisco
and been in a new job
for only a month
when my spouse began
staying out late
not calling
leaving me lonely
and scared

when those two feelings combine,
i end up making bad choices,
doing stupid things

so what does a newly
married young woman do
when she's freaked out about things?
she tries on her wedding dress
of course
and she tries it on without first
putting on the corsetted
strapless lace bra that goes with it...
the dress feels completley different
against bare breasts
it feels delicious and sexy

here's a glimpse of the scene
that may someday be in a movie...

to zip up the long, long zipper
in the back, i have to maneuver
in a way that shifts my breasts
upward into the right place
above the tightly fitting bodice
(which is what the bra is designed to do)
i bend over until my head
is by my knees, everything
falls into place, and then
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzip!

i turn to look at myself
in the full length mirror and
smile, remembering the gorgeous
autumn day i was wed, and
how hundreds of orange monarch butterflies
flitted around against the too blue
sky as if we were in some
kind of impossibly perfect
disney movie where the birds
start singing some happy song
in syrupy harmony

so i'm feeling all these happy feelings
i'm dancing around the living room
twirling and giddy, forgetting
all my sadness, swirling in the joy
of my memories, lost in my illusions
for i don't know how long
when i realize, it's dark, it's late,
he's still not home...
time to face the real music
extract myself from my dress
and my fairytale

i reach around to find
the zipper, and in a hurry
pull the tab, it goes
zzzzzzz and then stops
it's caught on some lace right
in the middle of my back
and it won't budge either
way, no matter how hard
i pull or twist or cajole it...
i'm stuck in my wedding dress
with no one to help me.
nobody. no friends, no family,
don't really know any neighbors
except our landlord's
young, shy single handyman
who lives next door
there is no way
i'm going to ask him for help

hours pass, i'm desperate
to get to sleep so i can go
to work in the morning
i've tried everything...
bent a wire hanger to try and
hook it through the tab, turned
upside down and exhaled fully
trying to pull the dress off over my head
i wriggle every way i can, but my
breasts won't fit through
the skin tight bodice... i finally give in...
i peak out my window and see
the light on next door, i make
the call, cliff answers, i explain
my predicament and hear
nothing but silence from the
other end of the phone.
it occurs to me that he may
think i am trying to seduce him
because he hasn't known me
long enough to know this is
exactly the kind of stupid situation
i frequently find myself in

he finally agrees to come over

in the living room, with the
bay windows overlooking the
twinkling lights of the mission district
glittering against the dark blue bay
i am standing perfectly still
while cliff behind me works
patiently, methodically on
the zipper... i'm lucky he's
a handyman, is good with
his hands and can figure
this zipper problem out...
i feel it finally move and my relief
is suddenly replaced by utter
embarrassment realizing,
as he unzips me,
that he will see i'm naked
beneath the dress
i can feel his hands tremble
when the zipper reaches
the small of my back
and he quickly backs away
mumbles something and stumbles
as he flies out the door

i never got a chance to thank him

all beaches are made of granite

2007-11-14T10:20:00.001-08:00

i can't find my copy of this poem a friend wrote…
it's titled "All Beaches Are Made of Granite"
it reveals the elusiveness of the concept of strength...
how, in the end, even mammoth granite cliffs
eventually erode into tiny grains of sparkling sand,
lovingly embracing some crystal blue lake

my counselor tonight said I should be strong
and stick to what I said I would do for love
my question is… when granite gives in and becomes
that soft, warm, caressing beach hugging the lake…
isn't that gentleness really just another kind of strength?

grace in every breath

2007-11-07T21:26:00.000-08:00

sometimes the only way

to make it through each day

is to notice the grace filled gifts

hidden in each sweet breath, and then,

looking up at the sparkling stars, notice

how the secrets of the universe shine

a gentle light of love back to earth

which can (and should) be carried

everywhere we go, like a flickering flame

lighting our path, and with great trust

given to others freely

on the right track: living 100%

2007-10-30T04:28:00.000-07:00

i was born in '54 and this year
i am in the midst of completing my 54th year on the planet...
this synchronicitous numeric symmetry seems
to generate some special atmosphere where
my heart and mind have found balance...
it's a profoundly enlightening time for me

i find myself trusting my intuitions more
and anytime i open to intuition,
step outside the box of "normal" actions,
i find my authentic self
and feel true joy and freedom

each time i experience a moment
of authenticity, a moment where i ignore
my fears and step up to my life, live it 100%,
i receive an affirmation that nearly knocks me off my feet
- tent poles appearing out of nowhere
- bee stings not killing me, though i'm totally alergic
- spontaneous healings of painful back injuries during meditation
you get the picture...
these are just a few examples of my big affirmations

but in quiet moments, when i'm with myself
and i'm doing, thinking or writing something
that comes from deep within my heart and spirit
if i look at the clock, the minute hand is always
on :54.... this early morning after i'd finished writing
something that i plan to share with a new friend
this friday, all the puzzle pieces fell into place
and i had a moment of peace and clarity...

i looked at the clock... it was 3:54 am

: ) sweet

"meow meow meow" if you know what i mean

2007-10-10T19:18:00.000-07:00

oh this weighs heavy on me
the choosing of, basically, my
right arm at work... at this point
i cannot say whom i've selected
but i can say, i'm a bit anxious
about how to respond to those
i was unable to offer the job.

everyone wants to feel they are valued,
that they are special, are worth something
but there really is no way to accurately quantify
what eventually tips the scales in the
direction of one person versus another.

it's more than a gut feeling, and at my work
it must be scurpulously documented, so i have
applied great dilligence and effort to eradicate
any superficial halo effects and base it solidly
on experience and performance.... luckily
i'm able to report that my supervisor,
who has hired numerous people (including me),
is in complete agreement with my choice
so...
in a few weeks i'll be free to say more,
but for now, all i can say is...
meow meow meow.
\/
: )
/\

after this, i imagine you will think me quite strange

2007-10-07T20:54:00.000-07:00

here follows a meme from dear pauline

Never in my life have I - been a life drawing model (though i'm thinking about it now)

When I am nervous - i sometimes say "meow" three times (like a cat wanting to go outside) which scares me at the same time it mysteriously alleviates my anxiety, other times i just mutter under my breath "fuck, fuck, fuck"

The last song I listened to was - joni mitchell "woman of heart and mind"

My hair is - stick straight and highlighted within an inch of it's life

When I was four - i thought i was a boy

Last Christmas - i drew my brother-in-law's name in the family gift exchange and he is such a kind man, i went overboard with the gifts plus made him a batch of his favorite cookies.... everybody noticed.

I should be - telling my son to finish his homework

When I look down I see - blue jeans and lime airsole sandals

The happiest recent event was - getting a lingering warm hug from someone i hadn't seen in a very long time and whom i thought hated me... then having him say "i never hated you" (which i immediately translated to mean: "i've always loved you.")

By this time, next year - i will have celebrated my mother-in-law's 100th birthday

My current distress is - having to choose one person to hire thereby making three other people feel like crap

I have a hard time understanding - how people can choose doing evil over good

If I won an award, the first person I would tell is - you!... well, actually it depends... if it was a writing award, i think it would be you and my writing teacher, if it was anything else, it would be my husband

I want to buy a - new tent

I plan on visiting - france in august 2008 to attend a friend's wedding

The world could do without - self-deception

The most recent thing I bought myself is - ahem (do i really have to say?) i was just at a "passion party" (the modern day equivalent of the tupperware party but with adult amusement toys) so i bought an item that promises to be, well, ah, a bit stimulating

The most recent thing that someone else bought for me was -
ahem, another item one might buy at a passion party ... it was bought for me by my husband before he departed for thailand

My middle name is - for the purposes of this blog, "sparkle"

In the morning I - get into my black speedo, grit my teeth, get in my car and drive 3 minutes, then jump in the pool and swim laps

Last night I was so tired I - can't remember how i got to bed

There is this guy I know who - had two parrots that he taught to make maraca sounds... he would hold one in each hand and shake them like maracas and they would make maraca sounds (this guy also really liked margueritas)

If I were an animal - I would be a - marmoset

A better name for me would be - phaedra

Tomorrow, I am - looking forward to whatever surprise events might happen

Tonight, I am - blogging and sipping chardonnay

meme from the bee

2007-10-06T17:51:00.000-07:00

This meme comes from a new friend, bee The first one is a middle name thing. Using each letter of my middle name I have to find a word that describes me. I guess my middle name on this blog is "sparkle".

s- spirited
p- passionate
a- artistic/athletic (i know, i know... putting two is cheating)
r- romantic
k- kontrary (ok, so I cheated again, but it makes the word make more sense, no?)
l- loving
e- expressive

Next one is a series of questions.

1. If you could have superpowers, what would they be? There is no obligation to be unselfish, save the world etc.

Since I was a little girl, mine have always been a) to be able to fly and b) to be invisible BUT now that I think about it, it would be much more fun if I had the power to make people fall in love(maybe occassionally with me!)

2. Stranded on a desert island with a CD player and 10 CDs, what would they be?

1.Dar Williams "Out There Live"
2.Maia Sharpe "Fine Upstanding Citizen"
3.Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds "Live at Luther College"
4.John Mayer "Any Given Sunday"
5.Joni Mitchell "Court and Spark"
6.The Who "Who's Next?"
7.Stevie Ray Vaughn "Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble"
8.Bonnie Raitt "The Bonnie Raitt Collection"
9.James Taylor "Hour Glass"
10.Seether "Disclaimer II"

3. If you were a smell, what would you be?
A Cedar Forest after a rain or simply a stack of fresh cut lumber

4. If you were a bird, what kind would you like to be?
Red Breasted Flicker, i like the vermillion quill of the tawny and white spotted feathers and they live in Tahoe

5. If you were a bird, whose head would you poo on?
The cat trying to kill me

6. Are there any foods your body craves?
Garlic Mashed Potatoes with Butter, Steak, Apple Pie and Vanilla Ice Cream

7. Favorite time of year?
Autumn... something about the air makes me inclined to fall in love... it's when i first met and fell in love with my husband

8. Favorite time of day?
Sunrise... in the mountains when the birds are waking up singing

9. If a change is as good as a rest, which would you choose?
From a Zen perspective, constant change is the true nature of all things, so why not sit back and enjoy a rest while I watch?

10. If you could invite five people living or dead, past or present to a dinner party, who would they be?

Jesus, Laurie Wagner, Mary Oliver, Johnny Depp, Lee Kennedy ... and i'd invite a fabulous french chef to prepare the meal.

Now, the rules of this game is that I have to pass this on to four other people. my dear and faithful few blogger friends, i know you are all busy and the last thing you need is to be assigned another chore... so tag yourself if you feel inclined. big hugs, snowsparkle

mo’s rockin cinnamon rolls

2007-10-01T19:24:00.000-07:00

decades ago, my best friend mo (maureen) taught me how to make
her most awesomely excellent buttery cinnamon rolls...
like me, mo is half polish and i suspect this recipe has come
from her polish side of the family... anyway, it tastes like home.

lacking a daughter, i've taught my son how to bake
all the family favorites with my secret extras:
apple pies, sugar cookies, pear tortes,
chocolate mousse tortes with raspberries,
butter cakes with buttercream cherry frosting...
and all the rest of them, but never the killer cinnamon rolls
that have been known to make people pass out
they're so delicious....

i suppose i held off, because my son has his
father's impatient streak, and waiting for dough
to rise (not just once, but twice) seemed like too
cruel a process for him to endure.
but the other day was my friend's birthday
and it reminded me how quickly time passes,
so i thought i should teach my son
this one last thing before it was too late.

he helped me with all the measuring, chopping,
mixing, even disolving the yeast (which made him say
"eeew!" until later when he saw how it could make
the dough rise.) i taught him how to knead the warm
dough with love... watching patient as it rose.

then hours later, finally rolling it up, slicing the rolls
and placing each into the baking pan
on top of the syrupy, nutty buttery goo,
then baking for a mere 20 minutes more.
i held the pan under his nose for the
"fresh out of the oven" scent and then
flipped it over so the sweet, sticky topping
was sent dripping down the sides

after his first taste, he closed his eyes
and moaned a while, then said to me:
"this is why the human races survives" and
"who needs cinnabuns when you've got cinna-mom?"

yea, definitely worth the wait.

teddy/bear

2007-09-27T04:43:00.000-07:00

Part I.
tahoe's high altitude and me baking on the beach all day
leave me a little woozy when i go to pitch my tent that afternoon.
my site is one of only two on the wilderness side of the road
away from the cluster of more "civilized" sites
near the bathrooms, garbage bins and showers

the couple in the site next to mine
(the site i camped in last year)
look like they're in their mid-twenties
they've already pitched their tent near the road,
but now they've picked it up and are moving it
far back into the woods... and i smile to myself
because i was twenty once and i know why

the woman is an alpha-female, i can see she
runs the show, she's overbearing and loud
the guy is a sweet pup who is kind and takes on
the majority of the work, making sure she is comfortable and happy:
he hefts the gear up to their tent, crams their
provisions into the bear box, hauls water,
cooks, opens the wine... i envy the
attention he is lavishing on her and resent her
a bit because she's taking it for granted.

but every relationship i've ever seen
seems to have a similar imbalance of power...
as if all love realtionships thrive on this dynamic...
usually the one who's the most insecure about themselves
is the one who strives for control and manipulation
by witholding their approval and attention
from the one who is willing to take the risk and freely
express their feelings of love and appreciation
(do i sound a bit bitter?)

anyway....

i level out my tent site and proceed to pitch
my piece of shit tent... it's a badly designed structure
and it would be a lot easier to pitch with two people
but i've done it before and i have all day, so when
the couple next door offer to help me, i cheerily
say: "No thanks, i got it." and instantly i receive
a reason to regret letting my pride keep me
from accepting their help

the p.o.s. tent has really long, fiberglass poles
that flex, flop, wiggle, bend and generally act like jello
as i try to raise the criss-crossed trio into a dome.
the hollow sleeve at far end of the main pole slips off its pin
when i try to create an arch and fit the near end in my hands
onto the pin by my foot.

crap.

patiently, i try to reconnect the far end of the pole
to a small and floppy pin secured to the floor of the tent
from my position 12 feet away on the other side.
the pole waves and sways within an inch of the pin
in frustrating circling motions, and after twenty-some
gently aimed attempts, i still can't get
the pole end to slip over the pin... i decide to swallow
my pride and ask for help... as i take my eyes
off my task to look for my neighbors, i feel the pole
miraculously slip over the pin and stick!!!!

i'm afraid to breathe or look back at the pole
because any motion may jostle it off again, so i
quickly make the pole arch and slip my side of the pole
onto it's pin... the remaining three poles are a piece of cake.

Part II.
my neighbors come over, introduce themselves as
Kaitlin and Teddy, and begin to ask about the bears...
Teddy especially seems concerned about an encounter
with a bear... i tell them to just be sure to have everything
that has any scent put away in the bear box: food, soap,
bug spray, toothpaste.... and to take a pot and metal spoon
to make noise if they hear anything near their tent at night.

Kaitlin is only staying for one night,
but Teddy will be staying
the whole four days i'll be there.
When Kaitlin leaves, Teddy starts to act like
my "new best friend"... i think its less because he's lonely
and more because he lacks a bit of confidence
in dealing with the bears that we heard rioting in the
"civilized" sites last night raiding ice chests left
inside cars instead of being put in the bear boxes.

i don't feel like being sociable... i want to read my book
in silence under the stars warmed by my campfire
so i deflect his conversation and try to politely indicate
he's on his own tonight

when my fire dies down, i head for my tent
while Teddy sits by the blazing light of his bonfire
and his fully cranked up coleman lantern

around midnight, i'm awakened by a big commotion in
Teddy's camp... 5 men from the "civilized" sites
are carrying his tent from its remote spot in the woods,
Teddy is leading the way with a flashlight
i zip open my window and call out playfully
"Hey, Ted! You abandoning me?"
Instantly I realize I may have embarrasssed him
in front of these other guys and wish I'd not said it...

Teddy sidles over to my window and says sheepishly
"Well, you see, the thing is Snow, uh, this bear, uh
well i had some food in the tent and the bear
came around and left its paw mark on the tent
and, uh it's going to come back, so, uh, i'm moving over
to the other side of the road with these guys."

I say "OK, have a good sleep" and then i crawl
back into bed to sleep with one hand on the ax
and the other holding the end of the string
attached to my bear-scaring contraption of pots.

i'd be lying if i said i had a peaceful night of sleep.

tony’s post card gets there

2007-09-23T17:41:00.001-07:00

as i drive to tahoe each year
i can almost feel the layers of worry
drop away behind me on the highway
and when i climb my way into the
high sweet pine scent of the mountains
my heart opens and my intuition comes alive

a lot of times it doesn't make sense
what my intuition tells me to do
but over the years, i've finally learned to trust it
because it usually puts me exactly in the place
i need to be to find peace and joy

so last saturday morning,
as i drove toward tahoe city,
intending to buy some milk in town
i didn't resist when my heart suddenly made
me steer the car in the opposite direction
at the last minute, heading away from the
store where i had planned to get milk

hmmm, i thought, i wonder where i'm heading now

as i drove along, i remembered the tiny
general store with wooden floors in tahoma
not too far from where i was headed, and
when it came into view, i pulled the car
into the gravel and parked,
i don't know why, but i grabbed some
letters i'd forgotten to mail off of the dash
and walked into the store.

when i got to the counter, the clerk said
"You going to mail those?"
the way she said it made it seem like she wanted me
to mail something for her too, so i said
"Sure!" before she ever asked.
the next thing i knew, she was handing me
a post card, telling me someone had dropped it
in the store and she thought it would be nice
for it to make it to wherever it was going.
without flipping the shimmering blue lake over
i put the post card on the top of my own stack of mail
and followed the clerk's directions to the post office

i had decided not to look at the other side
of the post card... i almost preferred to leave
it a mystery as far as who it was from
who it was going to and what it said ...
i have a wild imagination can dream up good stories...
but i changed my mind thinking i should check
to make sure there was a stamp on the card,
i flipped it over

There was a stamp and this message:

Lora,
Wish you were here to share this with me.
I'm working hard for you. I love you.
Tony

Somewhere in Green Springs, Wisconsin
Lora is reading that card and falling more in love with Tony.
And somewhere in Tahoe, Tony will never know
a women changed direction on an intuition to help him out.

pole vault (instant karma)

2007-09-19T17:41:00.000-07:00

7 months before i get to tahoe
i have to make reservations for a site
a lot of anxiety is involved... the place is popular
if you're not quick with the internet
you don't get a site... i think my heart
would break and i would lose my mind
if i didn't get to go each year
it's like home to me

so when i get there, naturally i want
to pitch my tent and get settled

a year ago i bought a real piece of shit tent
after my 15 year old one gave up the ghost.
i was trying to save money... you get what you pay for.
the first time i pitched the p.o.s. tent last year,
one of the poles immediately broke.
duct tape and some wire took care of that
and i ordered a new pole a few weeks
before this trip, but it hadn't arrived before i left

when i reached the campground this year, campers
were still in my site, so i went down to the beach
and hung out for a couple of hours
then i grabbed my tablecloth and walked back
up to the site to put it on the table as a sign
that it was occupied... i think the thin air
high in the mountains makes people a bit
crazy and they do strange things...
anyway, when i get to the site, the previous campers
are gone, but now a mini van is in the driveway and two
elderly people are sitting in it having lunch, their gear
is placed on the table.... i freak out inside
i feel very territorial... i've waited 7 months for this
site and now these people have stolen it from me!
i worry that i'll get stuck with some crappy site
near the bathrooms and will get no sleep
due to the lights and the slamming doors

so all this is welling up in me and i feel about
to explode, but instead, i take a breath and really
look at these people... they are enjoying their lunch
in the shade.... they look so fragile and sweet
i can't ask them to leave even though i want to

i decide to take a gentle approach, i say
i don't want to disturb them, i just want to
spread my tablecloth out so that i can come
back later and pitch my tent... they don't speak
much english, their accent sounds polish...
so they nod and smile and i feel good that
i have not created disharmony in the universe

as i'm spreading the tablecloth out
i look down and there on the ground is
a brand new tent pole... not just any pole... no,
this tent pole is the exact tent pole that i broke
last year, the pole that i need to pitch my tent
this year! there must be a hundred different
kinds of tents and a thousand different types
of poles in the world, but here is the one i need!

i look up at the clear blue sky, as if
i might see the heavenly vault
this treasure dropped out of...
i start to wonder if this gift came
because i have been a faithful wife,
because i have made sacrifices, because
i have tried to grow and learn to be kind,
whatever the reason, i am grateful
for this karmic sign from the universe...
it reminds me to walk the path of peace

lazy woman’s plan for bear safety

2007-09-17T22:14:00.000-07:00

i just came back from a
four-day, solo camping trip...
after the first night in the campground
with dogs barking, pots banging, folks yelling
i got tired of unzipping the tent to look outside
and make sure the bears were far away from me...
plus after hearing stories the next day on the beach
of two momma bears, 5 cubs and one aggressive
500 lb. male bear that charged a guy in the middle of the night
i decided an ounce of prevention was worth
at least a pound of cure... plus hours of entertainment.

my nerd-girl-inventor-self got busy
designing a noise contraption to keep the bears away
and make my sleep more peaceful.
two pots, three trees, some clothesline and twine
with well-calculated looped knots, this mom
became the mother of invention.
with strings threaded through the pots which then
fed in through a small opening in the tent door allowed me
to tug half-asleep on one end and send the pots magnificently,
cacophonously clanging together in warning....
pots positioned precisely so that a big mountain
wind would not cause the pots to accidentally
clang together in false alarm throughout the night.
i never was bothered by any bears...they probably thought:
"there must one crazy woman sleeping in that tent"

after a month of no husband to talk to

2007-09-01T06:51:00.000-07:00

zilla for two

2007-08-28T22:15:00.000-07:00

i awake to hear a voice yelling
"FUCK!!! FUCK!!! FUCK!!!"
and feet pounding a path
toward my bedroom
"There's a HUGE fucking SPIder!!!"
he shouts as i drift up out of my fog...
by now he's running back and forth
from his room to mine, i call after him
"How big is it?"
"HUUUUUGE!!!!!!!" he shouts.
i picture a hairy tarantula and
reach down to grab the wooden bat
on the floor next to my bed
i head down the hall, full of dread...

the thing you find out about
being a parent is that when you
love someone enough and they
depend on you, you can do a lot
of things you would otherwise
be too terrified to do

In his room, i step over piles of
clothes and junk in the direction
of the spider he's pointing at...
he's not exaggerating;
it's not just huge, it's SPIDERZILLA
and it's high on the wall in his closet
above a jumbled pile of clothes on a shelf

How is it that spiders know all
the tactical advantages they need to
win out a battle with a person
50-zillion times their size?

The shelf is too high for me to get
a good swing at the spot on the wall
which spiderzilla has claimed as his
my eyes stay riveted on it as I advance
and bark an order "Get the step stool!"

like a paratrouper, spiderzilla immediately dives
into the pile of clothes below it
Alarm travels through my brain
and a shiver runs through my body.
the spider now has the element of surprise
in addition to the height advantage.

a step stool is delivered, I gauge
the lengths of the bat and my arm
and place the stool as far away as
possible but within striking range

One by one, I start to knock t-shirts
socks, pants and hats off the pile…
spiderzilla stays one step ahead of me
burying itself deeper and deeper
into the jumbled mess. my jaw clenches
as I try to knock the entire pile to the floor,
the other human stops saying fuck long enough to
indignantly muse "Why are spiders in the world?!"
spiderzilla appears on the floor
I swing the bat and reply...
"They're just God's way of saying:
Clean your room!"

romance and a hard headed woman

2007-08-25T09:04:00.000-07:00

my artist friend had to move out of his studio
and was selling all his art, so i
bought a handpainted motorcycle helmet
my artist friend used to wear

years ago, he sold his motorcycle
to buy a ring and propose marriage
to the love of his life... now his wife
a brilliant and hard-headed woman
this helmet is an echo of his romantic gesture
the ring has long since disappeared

i once asked my husband
what songs he would choose to describe me
i guess i shouldn't have been surprised...
he picked two: a cat stevens song called
"looking for a hard-headed woman"
and a song by love called "she comes in colors"

now this helmet reminds me
that maybe every once in a while
i should try not being so hard headed,
and self-protective, take a few risks
and then maybe a bit of romance
might find it's way to me

(wish i had a better photo.... my digital camera is in thailand, so i just scanned the helmet... it doesn't do the art justice)

trust vs. belief

2007-08-18T07:34:00.000-07:00

i think i've stopped believing
in much of anything
instead i'm learning to trust

belief is about clinging to absolutes
trust is about an open hand
accepting endless possibilities

yesterday i noticed
that i'd been focussing on
my "invisibility" and "lonliness"
and decided that i was (at least in part)
the creator of that perception,
and that i had the power
to change my "reality"

because wasn't my invisibility
really just a convenient excuse
to avoid pain, rejection, abandonment?
and wasn't it all about fear?
and hadn't i just written a piece
about charging headlong into
the things i fear most?

so at lunch yesterday
when i was eating alone outside
a taco place, i sent out a silent
request to the universe
to find my way out of my
solitary mindset and let go
of preconceived negative ideas about
my age, my worth, my self

i've started trusting
that when i ask whole-heartedly
for what i really need,
i receive it in surprising ways
and in great abundance

a second later an older woman
sat down at the table next to mine
she looked like me: blonde, tall, trim, tan and fairly fit
she dressed like me: jeans, a white blouse and sandals
she moved like me: in confident and athletic motions
but her greatly wrinkled arms and face
made her look 8 years my senior...
for some reason the wrinkles made me think:
she's travelled the world...
she'd be interesting to talk to

i decided to get up and see
if she would mind some company
but as i did, she knocked over
her water glass, spilling it entirely,
she laughed and glanced back at me
and i smiled as she bolted up to get another glass

i sat back down and tried
to overcome the fears starting to cloud
my intentions to connect with her,
the fears that said:
"you're the lonely one, not her.
why do you think she'd want to talk
to you? maybe she wants to be alone."
so i gathered my courage again
and as she returned with a new glass
i started to get up again
but my cell phone rang

it was a man i hadn't heard from
in about a year... just out-of-the-blue
calling me in that moment
(he's about 12 years younger than me
but our sons are the same age)
and i felt happy to know
he'd thought of me

when our conversation finished
i was about to leave, but then
decided to do what i originally
had intended: to face my fears
and talk to the woman

i asked if she was a traveller
or if she worked in the area
she said she was a nurse
who travelled around the world
doing non-profit work

i asked her if she was dutch
because her light accent reminded
me of the people i'd met in holland
she said yes, surprised that i'd
listened well enough to correctly
guess her homeland

she seemed completely at ease
and enthusiastically engaged in life...
she was more than happy
to talk with a stranger
and i thought: maybe she is the
messenger i needed to show me
how i have the power to
make my life whatever i
would like it to be....
no matter how old i get to be.

quotes from others until i have something worth saying

2007-08-15T03:55:00.000-07:00

"When God created Adam from a lump of clay, he made a graven image and thereby violated the second of the commandments he gave man afterward. Had he cared to give him a good expample, as a teacher should, he would not have created him in the first place."
- Rudolf Arnheim in Parables of Sunlight

"The true measure of a man is how he treats someone who can do him
absolutely no good."
- Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)

"A little inaccuracy sometimes saves a ton of explanation."
- H. H. Munro (Saki) (1870-1916)

"I am not young enough to know everything."
- Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

"Bigamy is having one wife too many. Monogamy is the same."
- Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

"Men are not disturbed by things, but the view they take of things."
- Epictetus (55-135 A.D.)

"Well done is better than well said."
- Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790)

"If stupidity got us into this mess, then why can't it get us out?" "
- Will Rogers (1879-1935)

"Interesting - I use a Mac to help me design the next Cray."
- Seymoure Cray (1925-1996) when he was told that Apple Inc. had recently bought a Cray supercomputer to help them design the next Mac.

(and i still haven't bought my mac... had to buy tires, brakes and shocks for my car instead)

all the way to china

2007-08-12T14:21:00.000-07:00

at 16 i wore mini-skirts
my mother hissed disapprovingly
“that skirt’s so short, you can see
all the way to china!”
trying to humiliate me
into dressing more modestly…
it never worked

so i’m standing in my closet
37 years later looking at my
mini-skirts (halloween costumes,
really) when i realize “china”
rhymes with “ vagina” and since
my mother could never bring herself
to say the word vagina, saying china
was probably her ladylike way of
putting an indelicate point across

i take a flirty black skirt
off the hanger, slide it up over
my hips, step into my
stiletto heels and contemplate
going out, it’s not
that i wish to be unfaithful
i just don’t want to be invisible
i’ve been invisible for years
even before my husband chose
to run away to thailand in
search of himself for a month

i turn sideways to regard myself in the mirror...
still look pretty good in a mini-skirt,
but my heart’s not into playing
any kind of games with unsuspecting men
so i step back out of the skirt
grab a notebook and pen and write
the question that's on my mind
“why did he choose to go to thailand
when he could have gone
all the way to china?”

smack dab in the middle

2007-08-11T04:34:00.000-07:00

one morning when i was 12
i woke up to find a gift from
my little sister, pinned
to my flannel nightgown

it was a sherrif's star with
"peace chief" emblazoned on it
i wore it for a week

three girls in our family
the oldest and youngest
never could get along

i was smack dab
in the middle always trying
to keep the peace

i think that's when
i started looking for
creative ways to solve conflict

now i'm a middle manager
caught between the wishes
of upper management
and the rank and file

sometimes i feel
like the lone ranger
minus the trusty horse
and sidekick

(i'd love to hear your
favorite stories of creative ways
to solve conflict)

stevie ray vaughn's "tightrope"

2007-08-10T04:52:00.000-07:00

Caught up in a whirlwind,
can't catch my breath.
Knee deep in hot water,
broke out in cold sweat.
Can't catch a turtle,
in this rat race.
Feels like I'm losing,
at a breakneck pace.

Afraid of my own shadow,
in the face of grace.
Heart full of darkness,
spotlight on my face.
There was love all around me,
but I was looking for revenge.
Thank God it never found me,
would have been the end.

Walkin' the tight rope,
steppin on my friends
Walkin' the tight rope,
was a shame and a sin.
Walkin' the tight rope,
between wrong and right.
Walkin' the tight rope,
both day and night.

Lookin' back in front of me,
in the mirror's grin.
Through eyes of love I see,
I'm really lookin at a friend
We've had all our problems,
that's the way life is.
My heart goes out to others,
who are there to make amends.

Walkin' the tightrope
Trying to make it right
Every day and every night
Bring it all around.
From the lost to found.
Streched around the world.
Save the boys and girls.
Let's make it right.
Do it, do it tonight.
Walkin the tightrope

(thanks for the inspiration, lee)

I agree with Albert

2007-08-09T05:43:00.001-07:00

"The important thing is not to stop questioning." -- Albert Einstein

Someone once asked me why I ask so many questions.

I have to say, it's where I find the best juice in life. It's a way to watch the world open and open and open, unfolding like endlessly blooming petals on a beautiful flower.

In each moment is the possibility of new enlightenment and change. If Galileo hadn't asked questions, we'd still be believing the sun revolves around the earth.

I like questions... even ones that challenge my beliefs. I like the courage it takes to really listen and consider other's viewpoints even when they contradict my own.

What kinds of people don't like questions? Tyrants and cowards.

confessions

2007-08-07T22:25:00.000-07:00

whenever i see a guy my age riding a bike who's not wearing a lycra suit and a helmet, i think: dui

though i aspire to non-judgemental thinking, i magnificently fail at this endeavor daily

my pet peeve is people (especially women) using the word "vagina" when they mean "vulva"

though i told my husband it would be ok for him to spend a month in thailand to "find himself" and i believed i could handle his temporary dissertion fearlessly, i instead find myself flipping out when i read his e-mails describing his apartment in bangkok as "home" after having been there less than a week

i sometimes believe i was a matador in a former life because i keep attracting taurean men who challenge me within an inch of my emotional life

though i charge head-on toward the things i fear most, i still sometimes wish the "knight in shining armor" would swoop me up on his horse and rescue me

not to be too dramatic, but if this was my last post, i would invite you to someday come visit my ashes scattered at rubicon point on the edge of magnificent lake tahoe

he started leaving the first day i met him

2007-08-04T19:57:00.000-07:00

it seemed like one swift motion
swinging his leg over the bike,
hitting the pedals,
setting the wheels spinning,
spokes all flash and blur

he moved like a kid with a bunch of energy
and nothing in the way of his dreams

the full-speed intensity
of his trim, muscular body
standing on the pedals, pumping,
leaning into the future,
both scared and thrilled me

i watched him disappear into the grey
suburban curve of the road away from my home
and thought...

there's a man who's really good at leaving

where i've been

2007-07-29T21:14:00.000-07:00

the weather could
not have been more beautiful
my gratitude could
not have been more profound

tahoe in summer...
for me, it's the definition of heaven

a sturdy boat and a set of oars

2007-07-16T21:47:00.000-07:00

my life's ocean
is rocking and sweeping
me away with the tide

i find myself fantasizing
obsessing in ways
to make my heart swoon
and mind drift

then there's the
reality of things
which makes me sober up
quick

find a sturdy boat
a strong set of oars
and the courage or will
necessary to make it
to a safe harbor

i ride on the current
of friends' and strangers' hugs
humming a tune for luck

Misery: the secret to happiness

2007-07-15T09:34:00.000-07:00

bbc article on acceptance:

The key to a happy relationship could be accepting that some miserable times are unavoidable, experts say.

Therapists from California State University and Virginia Tech University say accepting these problems is better than striving for perfection.

The pursuit of relationship "nirvana" can be potentially damaging

--Jan Parker

The authors, Dr Diane Gehart and Dr Eric McCollum say it is a "myth that, with enough effort we can achieve a state without suffering."

And they say healthcare professionals may not be helping the situation. The field of mental health perpetuates this myth with the very concept of "mental health," which implies a state without suffering," they say.

Potentially Damaging

But this belief can eventually cause people to believe that with enough effort they can eliminate suffering And experts say this is an unrealistic aim in relationships, and striving to achieve it can lead people to feel they have failed.

Jan Parker of the Association of Family Therapy said: "The authors are right to point out that the pursuit of relationship nirvana can be potentially damaging She said it was important to explore what people mean by a happy and healthy relationship, because nobody's life or relationship can be in a permanent state of happiness - there will always be more difficult times, She said "couples need to build strengths, such as understanding, in their relationships to help them cope in these hard times and appreciate the good times."

Mrs Nadine Field, a consultant psychologist, said it was a "fantasy" that any relationship could be perfect and that striving for such an impossible state could lead to bitter disappointment. She said this disappointment could then cause people to focus on the negative aspects of a relationship, and lead to more disappointment and resentment. She said: "People need to try to understand their partners through communication, rather than demanding perfection of them.

The authors recommend using mindfulness, a Buddhist meditation technique, to help cope with family suffering. The technique requires individuals to focus on their breath and on their present thoughts and actions. This technique is already used by some psychiatrists in the UK.

They say although Buddhism is considered a major religion, the technique is taken from Buddhist psychology which could be useful aside from Buddhism's spiritual beliefs and practices.

The authors say family therapists can integrate the principles into their work to help patients change the way they relate to the forms of suffering that can occur in intimate relationships, such as abuse, divorce, rejection, and loss.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/health/6711071.stm

"belief" by john mayer

2007-07-14T05:06:00.000-07:00

belief

is there anyone who ever remembers
changing their mind from the paint on a sign?
is there anyone who really recalls
ever breaking rank
for something someone yelled real loud one time?
oh, everyone believes
in how they think it oughta be
oh, everyone believes
and they're not going easily

belief is a beautiful armor
but makes for the heaviest sword
like punching underwater
you never can hit who you're trying for
some need the exhibition
and some have to know they tried
it's the chemical weapon
for the war that's raging on inside
oh, everyone believes
from emptiness to everything
oh, everyone believes
and no one's going quietly

we're never gonna win the world
we're never gonna stop the war

we're never gonna beat this
if belief is what we're fighting for

we're never gonna win the world
we're never gonna stop the war
we're never gonna beat this
if belief is what we're fighting for

is there anyone you can remember
ever surrender with their life on the line?

we're never gonna win the world
we're never gonna stop the war
we're never gonna beat this
if belief is what we're fighting for

we're never gonna win the world
we're never gonna stop the war
we're never gonna beat this
if belief is what we're fighting for

what puts a hundred thousand children in the sand?
belief can, belief can
what puts a folded flag inside his mother's hand?
belief can, belief can

--john mayer

oakland street stories: Franklin between 11th and 9th

2007-07-13T23:15:00.000-07:00

it's a sunny friday

morning in oakland...

white seagulls swoop

and call into blue corridors

between tall buildings

as if these were a warm,

seductive ocean of sky

floating above san francisco wharf

and the world was their oyster,

as if my favorite street musicians

were playing while i lilt down the sidewalk,

as if it was a sandy beach in tahoe

and the lake was lapping at my bare feet...

in jeans, white camisole and a

thin

white

freshly-starched-and-ironed,

delicately pleated shirtwaist

i sway....

walking in the opposite direction

is a man --warm cinnamon brown--

i try not to notice his stare,

try not to hear him breathe

these words as he passes by

"such a beautiful woman"

because

this meaningless illusion

of beauty has moved someone

who doesn't know me at all

while i remain invisible

and distant to those

whom i care most

about

oakland street stories: 11th and Franklin

2007-07-12T20:25:00.000-07:00

it had to be a full moon day

only two hours into my work day

and people were already acting

petty, irritable, irrational.

i'm no mother theresa

but i do have a fair amount of

sensitivity and compassion

and i end up carrying other people's troubles

so at 10 am when i felt overwhelmed

and ready to explode

i escaped the building and

began a fast paced walk trying

to outrun these troubles

but they trailed me like a

pesky swarm of flies

even a few killer bees were

in there too.

so i'm walking, walking....

the blue benevolence of sky

and bright sun above tried to convince me

that the world was a good place to be

right now, and i tried to open to that

but my heart wasn't buying it.

i stop for the light at the corner

of 11th and Franklin

where cars are stopped

waiting for the light to change

a thin, tiny chinese man

is yelling at a dark figure

at the wheel of a beat up blue van

tiny man begins hopping up and down

beating the hood and the windshield

of the van with a rolled up newspaper

the driver of the van stares straight ahead

intent on the changing light

he begins to roll the van forward slowly

the tiny man outside grabs the door latch

and is walking along with the van

the van enters the intersection and starts

to pick up some speed

tiny man drops the paper and grabs

the ridge on the roof of the van

with both hands, still yelling.

the van's speed is gradually increasing

and tiny man's feet are dragging

across the pavement while he

struggles to stay upright.

finally the driver clears the crosswalk

and punches the accelorator

the van lurches forward and tiny man

is faced with a critical choice

-hang on or let go-

he stops yelling and hangs on

bending his knees and lifting his feet

until he looks just like spiderman

climbing up the side of a building

my heart is pounding by the time

his face turns forward with a look of terror

his black hair peels back from his

forehead from the wind speed

now just barely a half a block away

i start to run after this awful drama

(why run instead of using my cell?

full-moon-stupid is all i can say.)

the van is careening down

Franklin at 50 mph

recklessly swerving trying to

rid itself of tiny pesky spiderman

still clinging to it's side

his shoes come off as the van

suddenly veers right onto 13th

i am in full, high-heeled sprint as

it disappears out of sight

breathless and shaking from anguish

of witnessing

how these two people in this moment

are unable to reach toward peace

how they fail to see

all beings are interconnected

and that whatever evil or unkindness

we do toward one another

ripples outward effecting everyone

and then magnifies

to come back with a vengance

how they fail to see

in every moment, we have a choice

to take different actions that lead to peace.

now my swarm of pesky flies

seem like nothing.

i head back to the office

and dial Oakland PD.

(this event occured during the May full moon)

sting stares at snowsparkle

2007-07-10T23:02:00.000-07:00

intuition

brought me there...

an unpredictable path

outside my usual route to

Lake Merrit BART....

Do you know

what it feels like

to have Sting

stare at you?

Sting...

yes.

THAT Sting

on the night of

his Oakland concert?

Do you know how it feels

to have Sting

staring at you

from inside "Yung Kee"

Chinese restaurant

on the corner of 9th and Webster?

The only blonde head

in a sea of blue-black

hair,

bobbing liquid

like the surface of

a surreal ocean

on the corner of

9th and Webster?

Ya,

Sting

staring at me.

He did not

smile

He did not

move.

It was as if

I was being scanned

by a man being led

to the gallows

and I was the last woman

he would ever see.

His eyes asking me

for a veil

of invisibility.

A look acquired from years

of exhausting celebrity.

And, though I turned

walking backwards

locking my eyes to his

on my way to BART,

I couldn't help but

smile a knowing smile

briefly.... and then

leave him in his

peaceful anonymity...

because even rich rock icons

deserve a moment of simple

peace

just to be normal,

just to watch other people

living their lives

and moving on

as if this

was just an ordinary day

and he was not the slave

of some money machine

street stories: 13th and alice

2007-07-05T21:18:00.000-07:00

it’s 7:30 am

the sun spills over the hills

onto an empty street in Oakland

i’m alone stuffing nickel change

into the chipped yellow slot of

a public parking lot's

metal payment box

genuflecting in my soft

skirt and suede heels,

i pick up a small twig

to poke the last coin

into the tight slot

as i rise, a slurred voice

behind me says “ah git dat fuya”

i turn to see a dark man

twice my weight and half a foot taller

extending a rusty butcher knife

with a mean seven inch blade

in my direction

the morning sun makes this seem

like a benevolent act…

neighbor helping neighbor...

and in a way we are neighbors,

because this street is his home

i touch his wrist near

the knife and speak to him

in a casual, neighborly way

“oh, thanks. i got it.”

and reach down again

to pick up my backpack

he sees i’m leaving and

quickly switches gears

asks me for “uh kwatah fu sum coffeh”

i hand over the plastic bag

of change i’d scraped together

from the bottom of a drawer

on my way out the door

rushing to work

“have a great day” i say to him cheerily

he shuffles off a few steps and turns

with a parting "thankyuh" and an added wish

i don’t completely comprehend until

seconds after i’ve already interrupted

him with a “thanks! same to you!”

as i turn away i realize

what he’s wished for me

(and thus what i’ve wished

for him as well)

so sincerely is this:

“ah hope you hab uh faboolus sex lahf.”

a man who builds rivers

2007-07-05T20:06:00.000-07:00

it's not every day
your commute train arrives
at your destination
with the sound of live music
calling you
out of your ordinary life

of course i followed

children and parents were laughing
playing in the sunbeams sparkling
and dancing on a miniature river

the man whose hands
were lovingly moving stones
at its liquid edge
drew me in to watch

i asked who'd built the river
for kids to float, bobble
and cajole thier handmade
popsicle stick and cork boats along

he said "i did"

this artist, who's mission
is to bring water and imagination
to schools, museums and public places,
captivated my imagination...

check out riveropolis

artist friend

2007-06-13T05:02:00.000-07:00

here's artist mark wagner creating a 3-D chalk art piece in san rafael's italian chalk art festival last weekend. he's also working on an event planned for 2008.... "the worlds largest chalk art drawing" with all the art being done by kids. sweet. check out his site:

http://www.heartsandbones.com/

nude vs naked

2007-06-12T22:31:00.000-07:00

one day my artist friend

tells me the difference between

being nude and being naked....

"nude" he says "is when you're on a beach.

naked is when your modeling

for a life drawing class"

_________________

after 30 years

i return to life drawing

with a 30 year old newsprint tablet

and 30 year old charcoals

warm and familiar

i'm new here

i just drop in to the studio

it's early but the room is nearly full already

artists unpacking their brushes, paints

chatting away

two artists ask me if

i'm the model... "no" i say

"you should be" they say

i'm a bit intimidated about drawing

after all these years and, for a brief

moment, i consider pretending to be the model...

it might be less embarrassing than

drawing poorly in front

of other artists

_________________

i'm thinking of having

my artist friend paint me nude

one of those "do it before it's too late"

ideas to capture the last glimpse

of myself before time and gravity win

maybe then i'll learn the true

meaning of the word

naked?

interview by lee

2007-05-26T13:00:00.000-07:00

imagine me in the inteview chair pondering the following fabulous questions from lee:

1. You talk of the benefits of travelling light. What would you not travel without?

aaauuuugh! this first question is a killer! i'm by nature a pack rat (my garage is a very scary place, though perfect for an artist who makes things out of crap).... but if i had to narrow it down to "survivor" essentials, the answer would have to be:
-an adventrous attitude and a vial of my favorite perfume
no, no, no. that's so impractical! it would have to be:
- digital camera, passport and the address of a blogger friend living within range of my destination

2. If money was no object, where would you travel to? Why?

-for me "with whom" is almost more important than "where"... travelling with someone who's educated, interesting, communicative, adventurous, funny, easy going and physically passionate can make a trip to anywhere a rich experience.
-i'd love to see the prehistoric cave paintings in france because i'd like to feel connected to the artist/shaman who made them (but, are people even allowed in the caves?) if not, then somewhere in brazil or portugal because my impression is that the portuguese are warm, friendly, creative people.

3. If the Buddhists are right and we will be reincarnated, who or what, would you like to return as and why?

(i don't mean to be impertinent, but my personal zen buddhist philosophy so far is more about "life as illusion" and so absolutes, such as "being right", aren't my aim) but i get your point and my answer would be:

-a bodhisattva... it would mean i've reached enlightenment yet stayed with the fray (a mother teresa type character) if you were hoping for something more exotic...
-a modern day casanova (like the jonny depp movie: don juan de marco) because i would love being passionate and responsible for bringing as many orgasms to as many women as possible. (i think women deserve this)

4. What are your favourite things for each of your senses?

scent- my husband's natural scent
sight- sunrise over lake tahoe
sound- beautiful voices in harmony
taste- hot, buttery garlic bread and a glass of good wine
touch- climbing into bed in the middle of the day and fresh cool sheets floating down onto my sun-warmed naked body

5. What thing would you like to be rid of forever? Why?

-i would really like to be rid of feelings of guilt and habitual, unproductive self-judgement because then i think i would also release myself from judging others and then be able to simply radiate positive, loving, creative, joyful energy

Bonus Question: What is your favourite animal?

i have a real love of animals so narrowing it down to one is too hard...
-kittens
-puppies
-marmosets

thank you lee for your wonderful questions! sorry it took me so long! (just look at how my guilt comes up)

* * * *
Directions for the Interview Meme:
1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview Me."
2. I will respond by asking you 5 questions. (I get to pick the questions.)
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them 5 questions.
...

he writes "we're all wounded animals"

2007-05-21T18:24:00.000-07:00

rough grey asphalt,
remnants of white-lined crosswalk,
old street, old chinese woman
crossing
slow but steady gait
her hunched form reminds me of
a determined turtle
i start to stride past her
to beat the changing light
but something makes me stop
and stay with her
those sleepy, speeding commuters
barreling forward
may not see her

lightly, i put my right arm
around her stooped shoulders, her
knit sweater feels hot and coarse
to the touch, she looks at me wondering,
i say "i'm going to walk with you til you
get to the other side, is that ok?"
she mumbles something and we walk on

when we get to the curb, i notice
a deeply indented scar
running from the left side
of her forhead, down past her left eye
and into her left cheekbone
where the scar fans out like a
scarlet ghost of a flower,
a few pieces of brown scab
still clinging like dried petals

it looks like a hatchet blade
plowed this mark into her face

i ask her where she's going,
she points in a vague direction
i'm worried that she's disoriented
(how often has she been hit?)
i ask if I can walk with her
for a little longer,
she says nothing but reaches for my hand
her hand is warm and bony but strong
she squeezes my hand over and over
neither one of us is leading,
we walk hand in hand for a while
i tell her she seems like a strong woman
she mumbles something and keeps shuffling

the image of an abusive spouse
raising a hatchet invades my thoughts
i'm so disturbed, but i don't know what
to do, other than to just be with her.

she suddenly speaks
and the low mumble sounds to me like
a question: "you work here?"
i say "yes, just a couple blocks away"
i can't tell whether she thinks i'm real
or just a mirage, whether she wants
me to stay or go

we pass under a yellow awning, she looks up
seems to recognize the place, stops
puts her hands together and bows several times
in the direction of the building's door,
then continues walking
it seems like she's coherent
i feel self-conscious making assumptions
about her and the scar and her state of mind
i tell her i'm going to leave for work
and i wish her a good day
i can't get the image of her wound
out of my mind all day

then i recall a tearful, sobbing
phone conversation with a friend,
and how i apologize to him saying
i must sound like a wounded animal

days later he writes back
we're all wounded animals

a different way to lead

2007-05-18T21:57:00.000-07:00

Windows opened wide
Wren singing in the garden
This river sings too

today i announced my promotion to supervisor of graphic design with this haiku, flowers, fresh strawberries, coffee and cookies and an "impromptu" speech i composed over and over all night in my head, about a new, creative, untraditional, collaborative leadership approach.

it went very well.

lazerus

2007-05-07T20:46:00.000-07:00

imagine there are so many
complex feelings/issues/events
coursing through your days
that you've gone beyond feeling
unable to cope

instead you start to feel
as if you're floating
riding the slipstreaming undertow
of a churning ocean
and you're thinking about the dream
you had the other night

the one where you know
you must make your way down
the sheer face of a cliff,
without assistance, to the river below
because you've lost something

and as your fingers claw
a descent into the bare vertical earth
you begin to lose your fight with gravity
and slowly
you pitch outward
free-falling while
safety floats
just inches beyond your grasp

the seconds streak by in a blur
of raw earth, exposed roots and motion while
you're grasping, grasping, grabbing, finally
catching hold of one frail, moist and willing
nerve to cling to
one hundred feet above ground

as the root unthreads from
the cliff's fabric, and though
you keep falling, you slow down and feel
the torn flesh of your hands
the throbbing bones of your fingers
the deep ache of your heart
reminding you,
you're alive and strong
and not dead yet

even if the worst happens
you think... let go,
resurrection's
what spring's about

april fools celebration

2007-04-01T00:50:00.000-07:00

wouldn't we all
be happier if we were
travelling light?

Crooked Wisdom

2007-03-24T22:59:00.000-07:00

Having learned last night of his wife's affair,
my dentist holds a giant silver spear
and leans over the canyon of my open jaw.
Diving in again, vulture-sure, he picks

at my gum's weak pink flesh. Between
cliffs, down in the bone and coral landscape
of my teeth, nerve tips burst and bloom
like crimson flowers on a hill. Soon

blood's smeared red signature runs
from a deep root and floods my tongue.
Half-under with gas and lovely numb,
I watch his left eye become a clouded moon,

then one black branch of an eyelash
catch a teardrop's sheer balloon. With quick
shame, like a lion tamer stricken with naked
fear, he leaves the work of the open mouth

and the raw wound to another. He lays
the mirror down beside the spear and exits
the room. Anesthesia doesn't dim his grief
a room away. I hear the hygienist say:

She's leaving you for him. You've seen this
coming for a year ...

A bit later he returns, composed in his white
smock, and clips the X-rays of my teeth
to the board. Then he lifts his pointer
to the slideshow of my bite: backlit, exposed,

the skull's little ornaments hang; bicuspids
and molars glow with hunger and decay. See here —
he points — here's the abscess. Here's the cavity,
and here's that crooked wisdom pushing through.

— by Robert Fanning

the waving of the green

2007-03-17T13:13:00.000-07:00

Happy Day 'o Green to ya now!

GOT MILF?

2007-03-14T21:24:00.000-07:00

things are happening too quickly...

not only have i been thrown
into the role of supervisor among
some very entrenched staff
possessing limited self-confidence

not only have i been subjugated
to the erratic whims of a supervisor
who runs hot and cold, giving the phrase
"jekyl and hyde" a whole new meaning

not only have i had to work overtime
to complete work assignments
and then, once i return home,
study management training books
in preparation for a job interview

not only have i been a single mother
to a teenage boy very prone to testing me
while my husband is in thailand and
malaysia for the last week and a half

i now must also move our work unit to a
completely different floor in the building
during the time when key clients have
multiple and demanding projects in progress!

my head is spinning from the pace of change
i don't know which shell the nut is under
but then...

grace sends a kiss
my son tells me i'm the mom he's always wanted
my husband returns home from asia with a gift of french perfume with a name i can't even pronounce
my nephew comes in second in an international ski competition
it's also his and albert einstein's birthday
my staff becomes motivated and rallies behind me
i get a coupon from a clothing store and buy some new outfits
a chris pureka cd i've been waiting for arrives in the mail
i get an e-mail from a friend in his 30's
telling me i qualify as a milf
and i have to look it up on google:
urban dictionary...
you'll see why
in this moment, life feels
not quite so tedious
and even sort of
fun

red wax lips

2007-03-04T05:57:00.000-08:00

i feel like i need

a pair of red wax lips

. . . so many reasons

to bite my tongue at work.

this, being supervisor,

challenges my capacity

for patience and tact.

the woman who is my

supervisor is far younger than me

yet adheres to "old school"

draconian modes of supervision,

expecting deferential treatment

to superior positions,

driving her objectives

through intimidation,

manipulating situations

through deception...

i cannot respect such actions

let alone support them.

i feel truth and collaborative efforts

are more conducive to productivity

and wise decision-making.

the problem with wax lips

is the flange behind the lips

you gently hold between your teeth

to keep the lips in place

easily gives way

with one mindless bite.

hard part

2007-02-13T09:53:00.000-08:00

I see the look that's in your eyes
That says 'I must keep most of me inside
'Cause you'd never love me if I didn't hide
the secrets of my heart"

Well I'm not here for the surface stuff
I just get bored with all that fluff
So show me the edges even if it's rough
And let the real love start

You think your shame and deep disgrace
Are more than I can bear
But you can go to your darkest place
I will meet you there

And I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

You look at me with some surprise
And I see the doubt that's in your eyes
Like something deep inside you cries
With a hunger to be known
Like a tiger born in a city zoo
There's been no place for what's inside of you
You try to live like the others do
And it leaves you so alone

I know you think that the heat of your pain
Is more than I can stand
Burn it all in one big flame
And I will hold it in my hand

I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

Now your eyes well up with tears
As desire mixes with you fears
After so many wounded years
Can you long for what you've missed
You want a cool breeze to dance with your flame
A long lost lover who knows your true name
A secret garden beyond this shame
And it all comes down to this

You think your drowning hope will die
In a sea without a shore
But I can drink that ocean dry
And still come back for more

I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

I'm strong enough to take it
And I know what you've been through
You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

You've got a whole heart
Give me the hard part
I can love that too

Song: Hard Part
Album: Vista
Writers: David Wilcox, John Whalen

the mercy of the fallen

2007-02-10T23:52:00.000-08:00

the blaring horn of an oncoming train is
the last thing i hear before my brain goes white.

"ah, so this is how it happens"
muses the oddly calm, detached
voice in my head as i watch the
orange-and-white-striped crossing guard arms
corral my car on the train tracks.

the full impact of a lifetime
of judgemental thinking is felt
most vividly in this moment.
and the longer i live,
the more often i find myself strapped firmly
in the arms of one disaster or another.

as a former cafeteria catholic
turned buddhist,
i label these crucifying moments
"soul piercing gifts of enlightenment"

my brain refuses to process the image
of the coming train, yet
i can hear its urgent horn and
feel the roar of its threatened arrival

i've watched my finger trace neat rails of type...
daily newspaper accounts of people, like me,
humiliated, taken down, even killed through
some egregious lapse in judgement
some possession of desire

i've felt myself heatedly wondering
"what the hell were they thinking??!!!"
as if i'm immune to being just as human

yet crossing into my second half-century
of life, i've found my own self:

1- wearing a red plaid mini-skirt and black vinyl platform boots to my son's sparsely attended concert at a local rec hall

2- becoming more than just a little infatuated with a young guitarist who has the IQ of a brick

3- taking alluring photos of myself in a black spandex, chrome studded mini-dress and posting it on a myspace

4- befriending a homeless man with bordeline personality disorder and serious substance abuse problems

5- pulling my car onto train tracks because, even though there's a back up of cars ahead, the light is green and i'm late for my train and there couldn't possibly be another train coming soon because didn't a long-assed freight train just finish going by?

my limbic brain shifts the car in reverse,
foot hits the accelarator attempting to plow
a path straight through the guard arms
and over the hood of the car
behind me, to make way for the train

it's in these moments of being fully human
that i'm released from a conventional world
where the pta gavel drops
and everyone follows "roberts rules of order"

this is when magic occurs...
when the silver, orange and blue train screams past
on the opposite set of tracks
and i am saved to savor being bathed
in the mercy of the fallen

Mindful

2007-02-04T21:24:00.000-08:00

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less

kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle

in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for -
to look, to listen,

to lose myself
inside this soft world -
to instruct myself
over and over

in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant -
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help

but grow wise
with such teachings
as these -
the untrimmable light

of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

~ Mary Oliver ~

Why I Wake Early

details at 11

2007-02-01T23:00:00.000-08:00

love the maniacal "swamp-thing" character
(click on the image for a larger view)

sometimes all we need

2007-01-29T21:52:00.000-08:00

(sometimes all we need is a little magic)

separate towns
miles apart
graffiti blaze
speaks to my heart

this oddly cobbled
path to work
"you go girl"
writ in rich dirt

floating wild
high chain linked thistle
pulsing rhythmic
bright sky, train whistle

liquid silver, smooth hot rail
a pulse that quivers to great avail

threading through
rough asphalt's scrawl
same artist's tag
heart launch, over wall

when i was a boy

2007-01-25T05:04:00.000-08:00

I won't forget when Peter Pan
came to my house, took my hand
I said I was a boy, I'm glad he didn't check.
I learned to fly, I learned to fight,
I lived a whole life in one night
We saved each other's lives out on the pirate's deck.
And I remember that night when
I'm leaving a late night with some friends
And I hear somebody tell me it's not safe,
someone should help me
I need to find a nice man to walk me home.
When I was a boy, I scared the pants off of my mom,
Climbed what I could climb up on
And I don't know how I survived,
I guess I knew the tricks that all the boys knew
And you could walk me home, but I was a boy, too.

I was a kid that you would like,
just a small boy on her bike
Riding topless, yeah I never cared who saw.
My neighbor came outside to say,
"Get your shirt," I said "No way
It's the last time, I'm not breaking any law."
And now I'm in a clothing store,
and the signs say Less is More
More that's tight means more to see,
more for them, not more for me
That can't help me climb a tree
in ten seconds flat

When I was a boy, see that picture?
That was me
Grass stained shirt and dusty knees.
And I know things have gotta change,
They got pills to sell,
they've got implants to put in,
they've got implants to remove
But I am not forgetting
That I was a boy too.

And like the woods where I would creep,
it's a secret I can keep
Except when I'm tired,
except when I'm being caught off guard.
I've had a lonesome awful day,
the conversation finds it's way
To catchng fireflies out in the backyard
And I tell the man I'm with
about the other life I lived
And I say now you're top gun,
I have lost and you have won

And he says "Oh no, oh, no, can't you see
When I was a girl,
my mom and I, we always talked
And I picked flowers everywhere that I walked
And I could always cry,
now even when I'm alone I seldom do
And I have lost some kindness,
But I was a girl too.
And you were just like me,
and I was just like you."

Dar Williams "When I Was a Boy"

why giraffes don't get invited to surprise parties

2007-01-18T18:15:00.000-08:00

art party

2007-01-13T07:48:00.000-08:00

(art prep table with completed wire sculptures)

3 years ago
i had no idea
whether my concept
would work

50 pieces of wire
with tiny tags waited
to be transformed
into art

would people feel
intimidated?
reluctanct?
cajoled?

at the local museum
the party wandered around
David Ireland's sculpture exhibit
then returned to my home
for potluck and libations

it was the right timing
the right combination of people
(the right amount of wine?)
and the idea took off!

i watched people laugh
and smile as they bent and twisted
a wire into some something
from their heart and mind
with nothing more than their hands

few of them might have
described themselves as artists
yet there they all were
completely immersed in the act of creation

it was a gift we gave eachother

after lighting each of 50 candles
climbing down the ladder
and standing back to regard the art
my heart just opened up
and tears slipped out

beauty and love
captured in art

outside the box and on the wall

2007-01-11T22:59:00.000-08:00

3 years ago
on my 50th birthday
i created 50 platforms
on which i attached
50 wire sculptures
made by friends and family

each year i light the candles
backlighting the sculptures
and the great spirit energy
radiating from this amazing
collaborative art piece
rekindles my joy for life
and my appreciation
for all who have shared
a part in it

my 53rd birthday
arrives next week...
i'm hoping for a blogger friend
to provide a new sculpture
to add the my wall
and make it 53

if you feel inclined
let me know... i'll send you
a length of wire for you to
scruntch, mangle, shape
or somehow form into
something, anything,
from the heart
that can fit on a 4" x 5"
piece of frosted glass
which i have ready and waiting
for your sculpture to mount
on my spirit wall

please e-mail me via
the e-mail address in my profile
if this idea speaks to you

i am grateful for, and celebrate
all of you who visit here
namaste

threads in the bird's nest

2007-01-10T19:07:00.000-08:00

i'm just picking a few
odd bits of thread
from the bird's nest of stories
in my head...

yesterday
i came home from work
to find my 14 year old
with poop on his face...
not the real thing
(but somehow more alaming)
were four letters
each two inches tall
meticulously scrawled in pink
indelible marker
on his left cheek..
i looked at him
he looked at me

don't ask.

i was at a dinner party
talking with a carpenter
who teaches high school..
he said the girls in his
carpentry class were
more careful, more creative
than the boys...
he said some girls refuse
to work with the table saw...
too afraid to lose a finger.
but he also said there's
a new kind of saw with a blade
that senses the electic current
present in the human hand
and can distiguish between a
piece of wood and a finger.
when a finger gets anywhere near,
the saw blade drops below the table
and stops spinning
before it leaves not even
a nick on skin.

it's great to see
a woman as speaker of the house
in america finally...
nancy pelosi is third in line
to the president's seat.
now, why can't bush and cheney
go on a nice little hunting trip
and have a double accident?

not very zen of me, is it?

red dress

2007-01-06T10:45:00.000-08:00

You've gotta love this place.
Here conformity is king.
They'll wipe that smile right off your face.
Give you a list of songs,
you're allowed to sing.
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.
La-la-la-la-la-la-la.

Now you can say what's on your mind,
as long as it's on their minds, too.
'Cause it isn't in their hearts to find
a little room for some other point of view.
La-la-la-la-la-la-la.
La-la-la-la-la-la-la.

And anytime I think that I might drown
in all this standard-issue gray,
when I'm feeling small and pushed-around,
I close the door and draw the shades.
I put on my red dress.
I put on my red dress...
can't take my red dress away.

I learned to grit my teeth and smile.
Let 'em think they boxed me in.
Inside I'm still the problem child that I always was,
so I guess I win.
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na.
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na.

And any time I think that I might drown
in all this standard-issue gray,
when I'm feeling small and pushed-around,
I close the door and draw the shades.
I put on my red dress.
I put on my red dress...
can't take my red dress away.

--Maia Sharp "Fine Upstanding Citizen" CD

check out this website http://innocentbystander.typepad.com/innocent_bystander/
my_favorite_music/index.html for more on maia sharp

not so good

2007-01-03T12:53:00.000-08:00

full moon
little sleep
speeding ticket
two hours in the dentist chair
too much work
near tears

just breathe
just breathe

peas on earth

2006-12-31T08:41:00.000-08:00

in hindsight...
i was probably the
irritating pea
and my mom,
the real princess

happy new year to all!

The Princess and the Pea

2006-12-30T07:48:00.000-08:00

at times, when i was being a very persnickity five year old, my exasperated mother would refer to me as the princess and the pea.

i wonder if this is why i've never liked peas.

There was once a prince, and he wanted a princess, but then she must be a real Princess. He travelled right around the world to find one, but there was always something wrong. There were plenty of princesses, but whether they were real princesses he had great difficulty in discovering; there was always something which was not quite right about them. So at last he had come home again, and he was very sad because he wanted a real princess so badly.

One evening there was a terrible storm; it thundered and lightninged and the rain poured down in torrents; indeed it was a fearful night.

In the middle of the storm somebody knocked at the town gate, and the old King himself sent to open it.

It was a princess who stood outside, but she was in a terrible state from the rain and the storm. The water streamed out of her hair and her clothes; it ran in at the top of her shoes and out at the heel, but she said that she was a real princess.

'Well we shall soon see if that is true,' thought the old Queen, but she said nothing. She went into the bedroom, took all the bed clothes off and laid a pea on the bedstead: then she took twenty mattresses and piled them on top of the pea, and then twenty feather beds on top of the mattresses. This was where the princess was to sleep that night. In the morning they asked her how she slept.

'Oh terribly bad!' said the princess. 'I have hardly closed my eyes the whole night! Heaven knows what was in the bed. I seemed to be lying upon some hard thing, and my whole body is black and blue this morning. It is terrible!'

They saw at once that she must be a real princess when she had felt the pea through twenty mattresses and twenty feather beds. Nobody but a real princess could have such a delicate skin.

So the prince took her to be his wife, for now he was sure that he had found a real princess, and the pea was put into the Museum, where it may still be seen if no one has stolen it.

Now this is a true story.

by Hans Christian Andersen
Illustrated by Edmund Dulac

solemn parting

2006-12-27T06:33:00.000-08:00

josephine abandoning her blog
wiped the smile clean off my face
made me go outside into the storm
to stand and watch the river flow

i wish you peace and contentment, josephine!
i will miss you!

may your days be merry and bright

2006-12-21T09:06:00.000-08:00

the smile on my face
comes from the words of
kindness, creativity and grace
shared between us here
in the blogosphere...
here's to next year!

pogostick to kettle

2006-12-13T07:46:00.000-08:00

the kid across the street
is pogosticking
in the corner of his garage

sneakers flopping wildly
like a pair of manic hand puppets
long blond hair floating

like waxy strands of seaweed
undulating gently just
below the surface of the ocean

his wide gaze fixes
on the fractal painting
hanging on the wall

he's a middle child
with a bunch of energy
and too much truth

he is invisible

i'm in my front yard
digging a shallow trough
heaving rocks and boulders

head down, fingers clawing at roots
smile tracing the path of slow worms
hands building a river of stone

inner thoughts churning
like a full boiling kettle
steaming to a whistle

i'm a middle child
with a bunch of energy
and too much truth

i am invisible

'pogostick' wanders over
cuz he's drawn to the earth
he wants to dig deep

i point to a mound
describe my river vision
let him get his hands dirty

we work silently
at each end of the river
a blur of fluid motion

we are invisible

a few days later
i tell him how much it meant
for him to help me make a river

i'm on my way to the store,
i ask: would he like anything
while i'm there?

i expect him to say:
candy, a toy, a popsicle
instead he says:

i'd like a daisy.

(this kettle feels so lucky
to know this little pogostick)

becoming a river in my own front yard

2006-12-09T17:44:00.000-08:00

when my computer bit the dust
and blogging was out of reach
i became restless

i'm not a gardener
but a bare patch of earth
in our front yard
made room for me to create...

i built a river

well, not exactly a river
with running water, but
the echo of a river
formed with mexican
black river rocks

now to plant some more plants!

things my mother never told me

2006-12-07T21:17:00.000-08:00

- that few men would be interested in me until i was married

- that men who were interested in me would avoid me because the power of their attraction terrified them

- that a great ass, a fine pair of legs or sheer confidence are just as good at capturing a man's attention as ample breasts

- that i'd lose my virginity 42 days shy of my 21st birthday on pearl harbor day

- that i wouldn't have my first orgasm until two years later when i met a man i truly loved and trusted

- that i would marry the first man that gave me an orgasm

- that i would forget the date of my first orgasm even though it would have far greater impact on the rest of my life than the day i lost my virginity

- that the primal sounds a woman makes during orgasm are the same sounds she makes during the final stages of giving birth

- that birth and an episiotomy would leave my perineum feeling like raw hamburger for a month after giving birth

- that i would forget my birth canal was once a romantic tunnel of love

- that i would find myself clutching my newborn to my breast as i crawled upstairs on hands and knees because i was too exhausted to walk

- that my eyes and mouth would be able to read a bedtime story to my toddler at the same time my mind was devising possible solutions to next week's daycare dilemma

- that my husband who thought i was the sun, moon and stars would also lie to me

- that at age 43 i would have a secret affair of the heart that would bring me back to life and take me years to recover from

- that i would feel like giving up on marriage but be too afraid to leave

- that after years of neglect, my spouse would have an epiphany and come to love and appreciate me more than he ever had before

- that at age 52 i'd be waking on cold winter mornings at 5 am to swim laps in a misty pool

- that my waning beauty would still be able to attract the attention of a boy my son's age

- that i would forego this intoxicating fantasy and follow instead a zen philosophy

- that i would reveal my innermost fears and thoughts to unseen blog friends whom i trust some half a world away

what poetry saves me from

2006-12-03T07:32:00.000-08:00

from the vitriolic glare of the journalist in my zen class

from her snarky retort when i offer her the name of my writing teacher when she said she couldn't write about herself

from judgment, the turned away face, the lack of phone calls

from obsessing about what might be happening to those two boys with the misguided, irrational tyrant for a father

from my husband shouting at the cat who's just meowing to get out

from his obliviousness too how his rude comments to clerks and phone solicitors sends ripples of poison outwards

from never being able to do enough for my friends

from being late to work twice in one week

from bloggers who've stopped visiting my site

from religious fanatics imposing their reality on others

from robert redford's prerecorded political campaign phone messages

from the ringing rheostat of the light above the writing group

from hot flashes

from cat fights and skunked pets

from not enough vacation

from people dropping out of my life

from being suddenly shoved into the supervisor role by my supervisor's health issues forcing him to early retirement

from my wallowing in self-pity

from coworkers whose apathy, cynicism, and self-righteousness nearly push me over the edge

from a garage full of clutter and a drawer full of receipts

from my sister's disdain and ridicule of my spiritual journey

from my father's infantile self-centeredness

from heart palpatations

from wild imaginings and mistrust

from eating one more swedish pancake with lingonberry jam and powdered sugar

from saying what's in my head before thinking

from the urge to abandon everything

from running upstairs to bury my face in the quietly folded pillowcase to catch his scent

(wild write November 2, 2006)

rip cpu

2006-11-27T15:18:00.000-08:00

just three days before the day
i'd hoped to start blogging again
my sad, sad old dell computer died
i'm still swamped at work
with no relief in sight
and my breaks are too short
for much catching up on my favorite blogs
or writing on mine

next year i swear i'm buying a mac!

a cue from lillie...

2006-11-18T06:41:00.000-08:00

Up too early for a weekend morning...
i'm feeling fearful and overwhelmed again
for comfort, i allowed myself to quickly glimpse
just a very few blogs and found lillie's
link to the "what tarot card are you?" site

entering my name as snowsparkle.... i was delivered this result:

You Are The Fool

You are a fascinating person who is way beyond the concerns of this world.Young at heart, you are blissfully unaware of any dangers ahead.You are a true wanderer - it has be difficult finding your place in this world.Full of confidence, you are likely to take a leap of faith.
Your fortune:
You are about to embark on a new phase in your life.This may mean changing locations, jobs, friends, or love status.You are open about what the future will bring, and free of worry.You have made your peace with fate, and you're ready to start down your new path.

.....

entering my true given name... i was given this result:

You Are The Emperor

You are an authority figure, and other people look to you for what to do.
You are strong and powerful. Crossing you is not a good idea.
You have worked hard to get to your position, and you're not about to give it up to anyone.
Though you have a warrior heart, you are gentle to those who treat you well.

Your fortune:

In the near future, you need to be willing and able to defend those you love.
This may be the time for you to step up and be the authority figure to those around you.
It is time for you to be independent, to become your own person.
You may need to look at your relationship with your father, or your relationships as a father.

What Tarot Card Are You?

to quote lillie:

"Well, hell. These things are always a little too close for comfort."

coming back soon...

2006-11-16T06:15:00.000-08:00

my wonderful blog family,

i can't find a way
to fully express my gratitude
for all your good wishes
and concerns nor to describe
how these have filled my heart
and helped bouy me up

things are not quite so bad
as they were, now it's just the
volume of things that makes
it a bit overwhelming

i am
swimming
meditating
and being there
for my son
during my spouse's absence

i hope to start blog reading
and writing again in about a week

for now...
here's a photo of me and my sis
so you'll know i am happy
and well and things are getting
better every day

14 year old son meets new digital camera

2006-10-30T06:26:00.000-08:00

today's carnival offers a glimpse of the absurd....

i guess you could say this is truly a digital digital video

2006-10-30T06:23:00.000-08:00

a song by mr and mrs finger

today's carnival offers a bit of the absurd...

joining josephine's carnival

2006-10-27T08:49:00.000-07:00

a wondrous blogger named josephine
who writes "carbon press" posed an idea
to blog humorous subjects
and call on the lighter side of ourselves
i think this is a fabulous idea
lord knows i could use more levity right now

so here is one of my all time favorite videos...

"The 2005 Sony Bravia Bouncy Ball Ad"filmed in San Francisco

no matter how many times i see it, my heart leaps
and a smile crosses my face, and the world seems
like a fine place to be

happy anniversary

2006-10-21T07:58:00.000-07:00

28 years ago today
was an incredibly beautiful
day in fall when we wed

a brilliant blue sky
billowed above like a silk canopy
while monarch butterflies
fluttered their orange wings against it

since that day, we've always thought of
monarch butterflies as the symbol of our marriage
which seems very appropo given that these
monarchs migrate thousands of miles each year
on delicate wings... a long and challenging journey
but beautiful and joyful as well...
much like our marriage

i should be celebrating
but instead i'm here blogging
because
the other half
is across the country
playing drums with his band in boston commons
on our anniversary day
for the second year in a row

the universe has a unique way
of providing wickedly ironic opportunities
for me to work on my abandoment issues

i went to the sick puppies website
and found this video:
"welcome to my world"
i gasped when i saw a monarch butterfly
appeared in the video.

what is the universe telling me?

speaking of lassie

2006-10-19T09:14:00.000-07:00

when i was 6
every sunday night
my two sisters and i
were allowed to watch
an episode of lassie
on one condition:
that we wouldn't cry
even if the story was sad.

i remember one night when
lassie was making those plaintive
worried doggie sounds over
some poor injured animal
and all three of us were in tears

my dad angrily strode up to the tv
his hand reaching for the dial
while we begged and begged for him
to leave it on... we just knew things
would get better if we kept watching

he switched it off mercilessly
and left the room while we wailed even louder
at being deprived the end of the story
he returned to the tv set, put his hand
on the dial and said, if you promise
to stop crying, i'll turn it back on

we did our best to stifle our
sobbing, our little bodies shook
with the effort to keep it all in
until he switched lassie back on
with a stern look that froze us

we thought he was the meanest dad alive

it wasn't until i was a parent
that i discovered how excruciatingly painful
it is to see your child cry from
some deep saddness or injustice
and then i realized that my dad
was actually a very sensitive man
who couldn't stand to see us cry

i'm not sure it was a good thing
teaching children not to express
deeply felt feelings, though i can understand
the benefit of strength and self-control,
but now, even when i feel things deeply
it's very difficult to allow myself to cry

as long as i've known my dad,
i've never seen him cry, though i heard him
once as i tried to comfort him on the phone
when my mom had cancer

i will say this for my dad...
he always held himself to the same
high standards he demanded of us
and that's something i need to
pay more attention to as a parent

a little too ironic

2006-10-17T09:34:00.000-07:00

i'm looking up at lassie
from the bottom of my well
i think she'd better bark for help
before i dig my way to hell

i've been struggling with intense emotions sooooo much lately.
they're driving me to obsessions.
it's so bad.. it's gotta be hormonal...
whatever it is, it's NOT ME.

in desperation, i got up looking for the real me at 5 am...
i went to the pool and swam for 20 minutes,
rinsed and took a steam,
then went home, meditated for 15 minutes,
showered and then railed and walked to work.

i am so friggin' tired of hot flashes
and mood swings I could scream.
plus, now i found out i'm headed toward
high blood pressure on top of all that.

I want to run away
I want to stay in bed all day
I want to do some art
to free this damaged heart

my son was voted homecoming prince...
this involves a whole bunch of activities
suddenly dropped upon us
they will occupy the next five evenings..
float decoration, half-time parade rehearsal,
varsity football game, halftime parade,
the homecoming pre-prom dinner for the "royal court",
and of course the homecoming dance

on one hand, my son is acting like this is the lamest,
most embarrassing "honor" to ever have to endure,
on the other hand,
he wants to know if he will get to keep the sash

how did the girl who never got asked out in high school
end up having the kind of son who is like those guys
who would never look at me, let alone ask me out?

isn't this a little too ironic?

something wonderful from ellen bass

2006-10-15T21:49:00.000-07:00

If You Knew

What if you knew you'd be the last
to touch someone?
If you were taking tickets, for example,
at the theater, tearing them
giving back the ragged stubs,
you might take care to touch that palm
or press your fingertips,
into the crease of a life line.

When a man pulls his wheeled suitcase
too slowly through the airport, when
the car in front of me doesn't signal,
when the clerk at the pharmacy
won't say thank you, I don't remember
they're going to die.

A friend told me she'd been with her aunt.
They'd just had lunch and the waiter,
a young gay man with plum black eyes
joked as he served the coffee, kissed
her aunt's powdered cheek when they left.
Then they walked half a block and her aunt
dropped dead on the sidewalk.

How close does the dragon's spume
have to come? How wide does the crack
in heaven have to split?
What would people look like
if we could see them as they are,
soaked in honey, stung and swollen,
reckless, pinned against time?

--Ellen Bass
The Progressive, September 2006

something wonderful from mary oliver

2006-10-13T08:16:00.000-07:00

logos

why wonder about the loaves and the fishes?
if you say the right words, the wine expands.
if you say them with love
and the felt ferocity of that love
and the felt necessity of that love,
the fish explode into many.
imagine him, speaking,
and don't worry about what is reality,
or what is plain, or what is mysterious.
if you were there, it was all of those things.
if you can imagine it, it was all of those things.
eat, drink, be happy.
accept the miracle
accept, too, each spoken word
spoken with love.

--mary oliver why i wake early

we met 30 years ago today

2006-10-11T23:06:00.000-07:00

it's been a very long kiss

the fool

2006-10-11T09:31:00.000-07:00

pauline wrote a comment in response to my matador post that made me think about my interpretation of the word "foolish." i tend to connect negative thoughts about being foolish. pauline pointed out how foolishness is a necessary part of being human. her comments reminded me of a card i gave to a friend who was feeling anxious about her trip to europe because she does not like to fly. i sent her a copy of this tarot card and the description that follows. it makes me like the idea of foolishness better each time i read it.

thank you for encouraging me think better of foolishness, pauline.

What principle in life does the card represent?

The Fool represents our innocence, creativity, spontaneity and our inner child.
The Fool is androgynous as it represents part of us which has no gender; our spirit or soul.

What is the essence of the card?

Trust, as the Fool is self-confident and believes that the universe will provide her with what she needs.

Care-free attitude and youthful energy; the Fool is willing to experience life (good or bad) and will be the driving force for her travels.

No concern for the past as the Fool lives in the present and wants to explore new horizons, in order to learn her place in the universe.

Transformation, as during her wanderings the Fool will learn to achieve unity or/and enlightenment. It represents the cycle of life from birth to death and then rebirth again.