tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73940275521593249232012-02-24T00:12:02.471-08:00AporiaChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.comBlogger951100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-27652410771313265042012-02-04T00:26:00.000-08:002012-02-04T00:39:57.101-08:00ResistanceLast night at the fringe festival lottery I was reading out the descriptions of the winning shows. "Ooh! This one has butoh in it!" To a resounding What's that? And I explained it's a terrifying, beautiful dance form that usually involves moving verrrry slowly. As slow as you can go. As though the air were the consistency of tofu, I'd read somewhere. Back when I was dreaming up a plan to Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-50229693431304235362012-01-18T19:34:00.000-08:002012-01-19T17:30:58.017-08:00Dec/JanAn overview of the past month by way of selected excerpts from my journal. As I so often enjoy doing on this blog, I've left out practically all of the context.
Surely in ten years I'll know better how to describe where I am now. But I will take the liberty to say I am blessed and powerful, growing, and traveling a good path.
Every year of my adult life until just recently I have made the Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-81504016251407387132011-11-15T15:30:00.000-08:002012-01-19T17:31:31.481-08:00samsaraThere are two things circling my mind making me dizzy.
The first is a song of twenty-five minutes and thirty-four seconds. Oh impossible song, I can't get you at all.
The second is a photograph of a graffiti staircase. I wanted to figure out how to say why that image was important but my streams of consciousness kept wandering away from the point. But my horoscope today has resolved this:
Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-5861238174929202022011-11-14T15:37:00.000-08:002012-01-19T17:32:38.842-08:00interruptions
If there is any sense of continuity in life, I believe we can credit the mind's penchant for weaving stories. A powerful and creative act, yes, but it is so important to also be stirred and jarred, to have unexpected encounters, to forget our stories and ourselves sometimes and get lost in a singular experience. It is wonderful to be interrupted.
Sometimes the wind carries your page away. Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-72092289254445646262011-11-07T21:09:00.000-08:002011-11-07T21:17:03.867-08:00Oh NovemberStuffed up and achy, which is a nice excuse to stay bundled and drink tea. Reading "Moominvalley in November" and thinking it's a suitable journal entry:
Toft read very slowly and carefully: "No words can describe the period of confusion that must have followed upon the non-appearance of the electricity. We have reason to suppose that this Nummulite, this isolated phenomenon which, despite Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-27786286416899014522011-10-21T20:52:00.000-07:002011-10-22T00:47:42.119-07:00not the entry I sat down to write, but the one that came outThere was a feather and a leaf in my bathwater. There is no place that they came from. Well.. of course.. there was but... my reality is so limited by my own experience.
Limitations are a precondition of meaning.
One of my assignments when I was studying philosophy was to look at someone I love in the midst of some mundane moment, to close my eyes and hold that moment for as long as I could, Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-10429106361412837432011-09-22T16:35:00.000-07:002011-11-07T19:59:11.026-08:00Victoria Fringe Reviews, part 2
Hip.Bang! Improv are ADORABLE. I'm not sure men like to be called adorable, but there's just no getting around it. Much of the time this duo remind me of 8-year-old boys playing pretend, an illusion which is occasionally (and hilariously) shattered by grown men putting each other in awkward situations. The highlight for me was a scene where Devin was supposed to lick Tom's foot. He kept Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-41222746558209709892011-09-21T02:09:00.000-07:002011-09-21T02:09:57.594-07:00Victoria Fringe Reviews, part 1I'd love to take a few moments to reflect on each of the shows I saw at the Victoria Fringe Festival. I'm going at it in alphabetical order.
The Birdmann is eerily charming and well-punctuated, much like Crispin Glover. I was particularly fond of his repeated reminders that, "when you woke up this morning you didn't think you'd see _____, but I when I woke up this morning I knew that's Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-72780090987527342562011-08-08T20:22:00.000-07:002011-08-09T03:09:08.209-07:00Yes!Summer 2011: by far the busiest, craziest, scariest, most wonderful time of my life.
I hope I am learning grace. Sometimes I worry I just can't do all of this.
I hope I am learning grace. This is what I wanted to feel. Challenged! Excited! Nervous.
I hope I am learning grace. Sometimes I say, "I want my mommy." And I'm not kidding. But then I have a good laugh at myself, and imagine Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-79869296784254643002011-07-20T03:41:00.000-07:002011-07-20T04:11:52.988-07:00insomniUGHSleep will come soon. The reception desk of my mind is lost under all the file folders waiting to be tucked into cabinets. That's what I imagine inside my skull when I'm too tired: a slop pile of information that isn't going to make sense until I check out so the clerks and janitors can come in and put it all back in order. I've slept 3 of the past 40 hours. That makes everything funny and Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-64341335663503862282011-07-17T23:28:00.000-07:002011-07-17T23:29:22.388-07:00RespectI'm a pretty patient person, but enough is enough. So I'm just going to say it:
I'm doing the best I can.
It's not easy to be a broke, single, sensitive soul, not sure where she belongs, trying to make it through the last stretch of her twenties, to make a little place for herself in the world, and juggling hundreds of conflicting demands on her time, her body, her mind, her heart, and that Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-88735003173147388632011-07-10T03:04:00.000-07:002011-07-10T03:10:36.520-07:00pheromones and other chemicalsWhy would people hover around a closed ice cream parlour, hands cupped to the glass? Window shopping is not for ice cream, stationery, or puppies; these things are all or nothing.
The fellows were amorous tonight. But this is how it's been lately. Not like making a pass. It's a spinning in the pupils, you know? Bizarre stream-of-consciousness confessionals. Serenades. Not even making an Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-73794715426667210842011-07-05T21:28:00.000-07:002011-07-15T03:57:15.215-07:00confirm/affirmMining deep deep deep through hard compressed layers into the squishy core of yourself. Where you hid all your favorite things.
Oh yes, I remember now. That's the one I was keeping safe. Hearing you were around the corner and pulling off my apron. Tingling ears, sing-song, sigh. I want to draw the quiet forehead, the space I did not stretch out into, the wonder pinched between my lips that Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-5352503848788775822011-07-04T00:36:00.000-07:002011-07-04T00:36:18.872-07:00JubelOften when I look at the stars I recall Jon telling me, "Remember you're looking out, not up."
In the past 24 hours I've found three flower bouquets.
I came up with a crazy scheme today. It was so compelling and sinister I just had to tell somebody about it, and she seemed to approve. But when an idea creates this much ethical debate in my mind it's probably best to leave it alone.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-79787185921321404322011-07-03T02:52:00.000-07:002011-07-03T02:52:36.274-07:00like a rolling stoneI went to a show tonight. My friends were sweaty and beautiful and I haven't seen any of them for a long time. Wish there was room in the schedule for more of this, loved ones. I have a lot on my plate this summer. The hugs and conversations felt really good.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-80714324890902212011-06-21T01:51:00.000-07:002011-06-21T01:58:47.527-07:00PleaseSo often people preface their kindest words with apologies. Don't be sorry for how you feel. Stop hiding your truths: I enjoy them. I enjoy you just the way you are.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-91020909819920279902011-06-13T02:22:00.000-07:002011-06-13T02:27:48.553-07:00hope I stay awakeA fellow I met recently was talking about saying on his facebook status he was having some issues. A cascade of replies followed, all assuming that he was coming to pieces. He told them, "Hey look, it's totally normal and fine to have issues." Hell yes.
I hope I listen to and validate people's feelings. I know it's easy to dismiss people, tell them what they ought to do, how they ought to Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-36281083880761305482011-06-02T18:56:00.000-07:002011-06-03T01:17:12.024-07:00emotional availability continuedCouple years ago I told a friend I wasn't sure whether I could trust a particular suitor because of his reputation. My friend said, "You want to fall in love and get married and have kids, right?""Yeah.""Well then every relationship is going to fail until it's the right one, so you're not really risking any more than you always do."That resonated with me. It still does. I don't go into Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-61343784701401495772011-05-21T02:15:00.000-07:002011-05-21T02:16:47.960-07:00emotional availabilityI wrote an elaborate love letter in words and pictures all over a book and then I left it in a garden beside a koi pond with the following instructions:
Oh, hi! Can you help? I'm lost. By the grace of many handsand the wisdom of insecurityI am on a journey to[name of human][name of city]
A couple days ago when I checked, it had been taken. I actually thought it would sit there for months Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-27561770122301292552011-05-17T01:05:00.000-07:002011-05-17T01:05:20.244-07:00ParadoxThe stronger I get the more vulnerable I am.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-65989647822276125732011-05-16T19:11:00.000-07:002011-05-16T19:21:50.170-07:00goodbyeI know I'm not home yetbecause you are not happy that I've arrived.
I completed my secret project today. Which, I hope, means I can get on with my life now.
Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-49952505957043157572011-05-14T02:17:00.000-07:002011-05-14T14:49:02.685-07:00indirect connectionsI was watching a single stray bubble float around down the street. As all was quiet, I got wondering how long and far it'd been flying. It drifted right toward me and, when it arrived, it popped.
I'd been sad for a few days after I received a message. It said, or at least I felt it meant, that I am in his way. He has a point, and I have questions about it, and I wish we could talk, but what Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-41337108213768599302011-05-07T01:38:00.000-07:002011-11-07T20:19:40.437-08:00a poem by Tao Lini went fishing with my family when i was five
when i was five
i went fishing with my family
my dad caught a turtle
my mom caught a snapper
my brother caught a crab
i caught a whale
that night we ate crab
the next night we ate turtle
the next night we ate snapper
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate whale
the next night we ate Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-80484054227968979662011-05-02T12:41:00.000-07:002011-05-02T18:22:20.677-07:00It's simple
from "I Saw You," Julia Wertz
There was a ladder in the centre of the room. You climbed that ladder and found a magnifying glass at the top. You pointed it at the ceiling and discovered that written there in tiny letters was the word, "YES." This was an installation by Yoko Ono. I have heard that John Lennon fell in love with her when he climbed the ladder.
Build ladders
Climb ladders
Keep Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-57757425793838327152011-04-25T16:42:00.000-07:002011-04-25T16:47:47.681-07:00Thank youI made a promise to myself one month ago. It was not an easy one but I have kept it. It was not for lent; I will keep it the rest of my life. I wrapped it up in a mantra, which I thought best to never tell anyone, but then I wrote it into a poem and gave it to somebody because it was the best gift I had to give.
When I met him I felt a darkness in my heart: the soot of the world, the scars ofChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-20363949994462140992011-03-27T00:33:00.000-07:002011-03-27T12:53:41.500-07:00We'll have a real party when you can playLast August, anniversary of CT's accident, I wrote him a song. And these were the words:
It's been a year, you're still not better
Not exactly a good day but
Happy accident or whatever
We'll have a real party when you can play.
I practiced it for hours and hours and hours (because I don't know how to play piano, I've been trying to teach myself, and looking forward to when he can teach me). Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-28750222667521671582011-03-12T19:19:00.000-08:002011-03-12T19:27:42.962-08:00The Cove
You can watch the full film here.
The Cove Guardians (some of whom are from Nanaimo) have reported back from Japan that they survived the tsunami, but are stranded. Donations can be made at that link.
It's uncanny sometimes how things converge in your life and your world and your mind, a perfect storm of problems. Truth is stranger than fiction. I know it's petty to be all wrapped up in Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-34154648620102086942011-03-11T04:59:00.001-08:002011-09-28T02:23:42.320-07:00Memories to be crossed outKeeping these things about CT private used to make sense. They don't mean anything anymore, except maybe as an indictment when made public. And my defense. I never defended myself to people that criticized me about him. If he didn't care he was a good liar. This post is the most difficult confession I've ever made.
He was planning a surprise party for Elgin and he tried to hide it from me.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-4863105136291309192011-02-28T19:22:00.000-08:002011-03-09T17:53:46.535-08:00Freedom and commitmentDo you want to be free?
You kinda have to say yes.
If that sounds absurd, it isn't.
It's in your nature to want to be free. Just because you're bound to that doesn't mean you're unfree. Freedom's got nothing to do with infinite possibility. Our options exist because of our limitations. You are bound by many things you have no control over: the laws of physics, the particular place and Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-40799626776026017472011-02-28T19:16:00.000-08:002011-02-28T23:10:47.945-08:00Do you want to be free?Do you want to be free?
Who would say no? What would it look like to prefer not to be free? If you desired a lack of freedom, you would be free to fulfill that desire in all conditions except one of absolute freedom. But of course that's absurd: it's not absolute freedom if it precludes a desire to be unfree, and if you freely choose to be unfree you aren't truly unfree. Nonsense!
Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-23764232651068654302011-01-14T15:48:00.000-08:002011-01-14T18:23:14.951-08:00go onOne of my beloved philosophy colleagues wrote a paper years ago that I think of often. It was about her relationship with her house. She had rented it when she got divorced. It was her place. Her new life. And she was busy there, stripping away all that had fallen into the past (not to mention raising kids and going to school!). She went there to heal. And then one day she paused and Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-64496770820952819942011-01-10T14:49:00.000-08:002011-01-11T00:57:34.294-08:00playMike and I were playing in the snow. We were 16. Everything sparkled. Our noses were red. He kissed me. Our puffy coats made the hugging extra snug. Our breath was white in the clear air, rising into the sky in one plume.
I was angry one day. I was 26. I took off my backpack and threw it across the courtyard. I flung myself to the ground and stared hard at the sky. Craig came over Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-12969581751297010962011-01-08T03:11:00.000-08:002011-05-17T01:06:41.841-07:00smoothlandI am too old to kiss you.
Besides, when we first met you said, "Let's you and me not kiss each other, okay?"
And I concurred because you remind me of the son I thought I might have some day.
If it weren't a weird thing to do, though, I would kiss you
to shut you up
because you need to be resisted more by others, and far less by yourself
because you're a dolphin and you're supposed to be Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-89674101449686441022010-12-20T16:13:00.000-08:002010-12-20T16:17:26.269-08:00insomnia
A couple days ago I got sleepy. I miss this feeling so much when I can't find it. Sleep has a different quality when it smothers you like a fuzzy hug and you simply lean into it. I've been struggling with insomnia for a long stretch, which means I can't sleep until I reach the point of exhaustion. It pierces me as a sword and I collapse into painful, restless dreams.
I got sleepy, and even Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-70124539467774264552010-12-05T19:41:00.000-08:002010-12-06T16:47:57.285-08:00I have decided to stop thanking people for punching me in the faceI am like this
I am like cold water and warm blankets
I am like swing sets on a hill
I am like breath held in and released slowly
Just to hear the sound
I am like a deer listening to the woods
I am like a dancer that moves even when she's still
I am like the speaking silence of a rockslide and the town beneath
I am like the click of a clock you hear now and then
The click of a clock reminding Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-71039274245078955622010-11-05T14:47:00.000-07:002010-11-05T14:59:05.389-07:00FacesThe checkout girl asked, "Did you find everything you were looking for today?"
And I said yes, but that was simply reflex.
I'm not looking for anything.
I've been feeling light, bright, aimless. Many of my projects are finished now, or wrapping up. The latest ones aren't in focus yet. There's a luxury in being out of context. I can look around with a quiet mind, without judgment or Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-62474305600544082572010-10-07T16:26:00.000-07:002011-03-03T20:54:24.298-08:00blameI have given you a lot of credit. I'm tearing up all your bad cheques now. You'll be relieved that I have stopped holding you to your word. You will feel lighter and freer as all the promises you've made dissolve. You are going to be happy that I don't ask you questions about your choices and actions anymore.
And someday, perhaps, you will remember a time when I had faith in you and realize Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-49039815548710974492010-10-05T00:03:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.679-07:00blamThis part of the story doesn't matter very much. Not in the way I think it does. Some people are flickering, I am fluttering, and things are getting better all the time.
I got my heart back today. I just decided I missed it too much. So that's that.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-70028018088556409682010-09-19T15:32:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.680-07:00pennies from heavenPost-breakup returning of stuff. Was unorthodox. We drank three pots of tea. I teased him about his hickey. He left his pile of stuff at my house and we went out for dinner, and then he came along to my evening plans.
He told me about a mix he made recently for a friend going through a breakup, and how he was pleased he'd included Aretha Franklin's Since You've Been Gone. "It's a great Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-30098959612128668882010-09-13T14:43:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.681-07:00non-anniversaryCT and I broke up about a week ago. Our first date was three years ago today. On the roof of a mall, which is now scheduled for demolition. I scolded myself that night for wanting to kiss my friend. I thought I couldn't date him because I loved him. So I started pretending I wasn't excited to see him.
It was a mistake. Our timing has been off ever since. Three years and three breakups. Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-4853891813503908742010-07-23T16:15:00.000-07:002010-09-18T01:12:55.092-07:00disappear into your use
Ceci n'est pas my shoes.
Dear dilapidated Rockports, a practical beige tone, or perhaps simply the color of your use, coming apart at the seams and sporting one torn flap in particular from my travels with CT to the hobo mansion, and some kind of assurance that we could potentially take root, a rough and ragged featurefulness that speaks of ground covered and rocky terrain traversed, a Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-25140879719101768622010-07-11T23:00:00.000-07:002010-09-18T01:05:50.685-07:00Hellride and cat skinningTraining day at Rock 'n' Roll Camp for Girls. Felt recognized, experienced, articulate, and confident. On my way in the door I got three hugs and was asked to give a radio interview. Have as much support crew experience as the woman doing the training, so I was able to cover a few things she was unsure about. Had lots to say in brainstorming sessions on communication and relational aggressionChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-62896998188426265412010-07-11T10:00:00.000-07:002010-09-18T01:06:17.744-07:00SeattleGot into Portland at midnight. Our rental car looks like a storm trooper helmet and our room is swanky. There's a giant shower with a stone bench.
Yankees beat Mariners two days in a row. I'd decided to root for Seattle. Oh well. The large man next to me, decked out in Yankees gear, did not like my Yankees Suck shirt. I offered him Cocoa Puffs and he still didn't want to be friends. The Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-92177406161914405712010-07-08T07:30:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.682-07:00baseball capIn the hazy early morning light, the ocean & mountains look like layers of blue tissue paper. I blow a kiss to Nanaimo... well, mostly to one sleeping there, much too small and tucked away to be seen from here, but who I feel, still. I sent him a postcard from my walk to the ferry, at the postbox in front of the creepy abandoned church where they have top secret one-man midnight dance parties.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-85905743015858050852010-07-06T00:39:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.683-07:00your weary, weary toestelegram from my ship, which has not come in:
stop stop
still drifting stop
will come in soonish stop
Squinting into the horizon, watching the distant shapes getting bigger and smaller, measuring space and time, feeling nauseous, wishing my ship would just sink. I was better off when you got so small I couldn't find you. I thought you were here but you're not, and you aren't coming.
A lot of Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-73212882805098534062010-06-25T20:54:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.684-07:00sun silence
Today I spent time with two people who aren't always close in my life, who will always come back eventually, who I love so darn much. What else can I say? Thanks for reading. I'll let you know when my speechlessness passes.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-50915940969279717412010-06-18T15:42:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.684-07:00your weary toesThere are muscles between my eyebrows that never want to let go. They tense. They make me feel tense. I work at persuading them to relax but they resist me. And now I am surprised by my reflection. I take a good long look at it. My forehead is soft and expansive, my muscles are all at ease, and my face is a new face. I'm not sure what to feel or think, and for the moment I am confident in Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-50573163502194877822010-06-14T13:19:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.685-07:00nuzzle
When I borrow garments from you I hold them like a teddy bear in my sleep. But I don't hug you goodbye.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-451301219353895882010-06-08T12:46:00.000-07:002011-03-03T21:00:52.504-08:00No flashlight
I assure you, the body is a compass. When you feel lost that is a direction. An order. If you are not listening to yourself you won't hear anything. Your way, getting away, casting red light in your eyes, warning signs, will have you fearful as a child. We should have learned by now not to panic. We should have learned by now it is easy to follow our path, and the only way.
We were Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-28124105832796347972010-06-08T01:51:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:25:43.687-07:00Boomerang
The other day I made a boomerang.
I left it somewhere.
I sat down on a barrier overlooking a field.
And the world in its cold way started coming alive.
Rain fell on my face.
I thought about that.
And of the various faces one might make upon finding a boomerang.
And the silly way I used to rub my face against another one.
It wasn't the most appropriate time to feel joy.
I did, though.
But what doChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-68038758700264463172010-05-20T17:26:00.000-07:002010-05-20T23:31:47.693-07:00Sweat the small stuffI'm a pantywaist.
Okay, I admit I don't know the etymology of this term... but what I do know is this: for every elite athlete or soldier in a movie, there is some timid, self-indulgent, undisciplined wimp that accidentally stumbles into his path. And the better man, with a revulsion oh-so-mild (because his true wrath is reserved for worthy opponents), levels that pathetic creature by calling Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-76131823876315667232010-05-10T18:33:00.001-07:002010-05-10T18:33:02.209-07:00porchIt's really beginning to feel like summer. I've been carving away at all the things that need to be done, getting life in order. And now I'm taking a break, sitting on a porch with a beer listening to birds chirp, thinking about all the things that make life wonderful.It is, most especially, all the missing in my heart. The places I look forward to being again. The things that made an Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-53239200745397694882010-05-08T18:50:00.000-07:002010-05-08T20:24:16.543-07:00My joys are alive in me to the extent that I share them
I had the immense fortune of spending a large portion of my academic career working alongside Adam, and of loving him and being loved by him. We might have been the ideal couple if not for the fact that we both need in a partner someone who brings out our light-hearted side. That is, we both think too much for our own good. Put me and Adam together and we get so engrossed in heavy Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-36894298795895737842010-05-06T16:28:00.000-07:002010-05-06T16:51:26.547-07:00Stand up! Pt 3
I did it!
The whole crazy month and the frantic day and my blurry appearance on stage. I did it!
The very best part
I was walking toward the stage. I chickened out and took a left turn instead of a right, into a little backstage cubby behind the bar. I felt so small. But Jeremy was tucked away in there and he looked like he felt small, too. Everybody is afraid just before they jump. AndChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-82980731677352393332010-05-05T17:45:00.000-07:002010-06-03T00:34:36.841-07:00Stand up! Pt 2Victory!
The end result, good or bad, is a small part of the story, so let's just get that out of the way. I stood on a stage, and I think I said more or less what I decided I was going to say, and I think the audience laughed more than I expected. I was nervous and it was a blur. Except this one glorious moment... but we'll come back to that.
The Strategy
I have one month to come up Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-64063649225457721712010-05-04T14:17:00.000-07:002010-05-04T16:52:49.937-07:00Stand up! Pt 1
The Dream
I got it in my head at some point that it would be great fun to take a stab at stand up comedy. I started keeping a Funny Journal, trying to work out the essence of what makes me laugh, the traits in myself that could be magnified to reveal a character, the baited traps of everydayness and the idiosyncrasies of my personal reality, my view, my voice. I started reading about Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-65594363930084388762010-03-06T01:26:00.000-08:002010-05-02T16:33:09.110-07:00worry < fear < danceTo dare is to lose your footing momentarily,
to not dare is to lose yourself.
Kierkegaard
About a year ago I danced at a party, and it was kinda the first time I really did. I dance quite a bit these days. We're always changing, friends. Hopefully mostly for the better.
That was a really big time for me. I had just been hurt in a way I didn't realize was possible, and in response I was Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-76480856033425578962010-02-13T15:16:00.000-08:002010-06-25T21:12:19.747-07:00The dolphin.
I once met a dolphin with a human face. He asked me to be his mother and I said no. I might have said maybe, or yes, come back later, I don't remember. He told me a lot of important things, I don't remember those either. But I know my hand was on the aquarium glass, and that when I watched him swim off into the distant, hazy water, I cried a bit. I could not do what he was asking, as muchChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-85929320160155348212010-02-12T17:45:00.001-08:002010-02-12T18:01:45.545-08:00GracefulI did a sweet headstand in yoga.I had four-limb independence for a whole song. Welcome to drumming, left leg.I thought it might be gross but mixing tuna and brussel sprouts together in a casserole worked out wonderfully.I'm getting the hang of the big left-hand leaps in Satie's Gymnopedies.Ken-Ken is making me pretty flexible at multiplying and dividing.I've started doing my balance board again.Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-15904678601385734792010-02-12T03:22:00.001-08:002010-12-15T00:45:04.948-08:00ClumsyWhen I was fifteen my brother was in a car accident. I had a dream that he didn't survive it. I got up out of bed and crossed the hall to his room. I opened his door to listen to him breathing. I went and stood where it happened. I still have a little piece of wreckage. Sometimes it's hard to get it straight in your head. Sometimes you wake up confused because things have changed and you Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-50615709032974813152010-02-07T01:10:00.001-08:002010-02-07T01:39:45.836-08:00I am an emotional creature.Whenever I express something from inside it seems so detached from its full context that it ceases to be true. I have a lot of complicated feelings. It is a deep and beautiful web. They all seem kind of dumb in isolation, I know, but that's not because they're dumb, it's because there's a movie in my head and it takes a lot of words to describe one frame. And words never really fit Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-89053843559092264112010-01-26T17:51:00.000-08:002011-07-05T21:46:08.307-07:00cohere/adhere
the person sitting beside me had a hole in their styrofoam cup, slowly bleeding coffee, and I bandaged the wound with a post-it note.auto-spellcheck wants me to capitalize styrofoam.
"the first time I made coffee for just myself I made too much of it but I drank it all just 'cause you hated when I let things go to waste"
snaccident
after a commercial the actors repeat the last line or two Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-53773204542550800442010-01-17T03:10:00.000-08:002010-10-07T17:26:45.797-07:00The muddy roadTo say what I really want, even though it's impossible, is a step in the right direction. This is how I let go.My favorite koan:Tanzan and Ekido were once traveling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain was still falling.Coming around a bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection."Come on, girl" said Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-35530643257634707892010-01-09T15:16:00.000-08:002011-03-03T21:01:22.714-08:00Truth is a bird in flightAround this time two years ago I bought a book at the college bookstore and sat down beside a fountain to read it. It was a different translation of a well-worn copy I'd owned for years. And it was not my book. It looked like one of so many exact replicas that it had lost the power to speak. I hated this object, and hated that it owned me.I hesitated and glared at my impulse for a moment, butChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-36327944493424487282009-08-29T12:42:00.000-07:002011-03-03T20:56:55.179-08:00dig deep to indignity
I believe that when I express my feelings with some sort of hope or expectation I am throwing a blanket over the truth. Security and control are dark desires. I believe contentment is a matter of abiding in an open space. I create this when I release my grasping fist and stretch out these tired fingers. I find this when I give the open away. Happiness is turning toward the liberation of Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-63582528594272912322009-08-27T19:03:00.000-07:002009-08-28T13:53:16.812-07:00My badass family historyBilly's kids, my great great grandpa TW is on the right Last night at a party my friend was talking about The Black Donnellys. And I said, "that sounds so familiar... I think my ancestors murdered them...?"Well, I got out the rad family history book my mom compiled for me and looked it up. This is wacky.My great-great-great grandfather Billy Atkinson was best friends - to the dismay of his Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-20514048169397129292009-08-18T15:04:00.000-07:002011-06-30T23:29:45.388-07:00I'm building a shrinepainting: Dion Pepper-Smith
JR said he and I learned what not to do when giving a relationship a second chance, and asked if I want CT back. But I can't answer that. Everything I've been feeling is about something that's dead, and that's why I'm building a shrine for things past. JR said shrines are for trying to keep something alive. I don't think so...
From a Senegalese ritual called Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-11179857836819286422009-08-16T13:39:00.000-07:002011-06-30T23:44:32.216-07:00the one with all the muppetsOne day I was writing in my journal and it turned into a prayer to God, who I'd never believed in, or at least never had a desire to speak to.
"Please don't make me go through this again. I am strong enough. Why do I have to be tested again? I want what is real & good. Help me see what that is. Why should I have to work & wait in the dark? I've tried so hard. I feel myself getting clouded Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-85053007591589951162009-08-06T20:23:00.000-07:002009-08-06T20:29:11.985-07:00in other wordsTHE BACKSTORYA few months ago I asked readers to join me in a conversation about gender politics. It was primarily addressed to people who haven't given it much thought or invested much in discussing it, and was mostly intended for straight males.I guess I wasn't entirely upfront about my motives for writing the post, and consequently it felt clumsy and incomplete in places. But ultimately I Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-84156745980864471952009-08-04T19:44:00.000-07:002009-08-06T21:52:22.025-07:00America, post-BushRemember when the American border had a framed photo of Bush? He'd have this absurd smile and be not quite looking at you, you know? A little voice in your head would beg you, "Don't walk through that door. Run in the other direction." By choosing to enter you felt you were giving up your right to expect anything to make sense. Okay, I guess when the bully lives next door his yard is the Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-12716324292421874582009-07-02T17:03:00.000-07:002009-08-04T17:03:35.064-07:00a working definition of loveI caught a whiff of my dad's pasta salad once when I had the flu and consequently couldn't stomach the stuff for years. Well I think I've lost my taste for relationships. Maybe just for a while. Like a good bump on the head I feel I'm starting fresh.A nice lad told me he loved me and I started suffocating. We weren't right, and that's fine. But this time it really bugged me. The mere Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-35673589172926635672009-06-26T17:32:00.000-07:002009-08-04T17:13:58.080-07:00Pop culture overload: The King is dead32 years ago today Elvis gave his last concert. I saw Patti Smith at the Commodore on the 27th anniversary of his death, where she performed a haunting tribute to him. I'm not particularly moved by Elvis The Legend, but Smith's requiem to Elvis the man made a permanent impression on me: the human being that desperately wanted to live up to the impossible expectations for him to be larger than Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-25041779697287117782009-06-25T13:58:00.000-07:002009-08-18T17:56:21.901-07:00a boy at a showWe're getting serious?Put a pillow over my face:If I don't laugh I'm dead.The green branch (from "Upside-Down Zen" by Susan Murphy)Play belongs to the realm of eros, of connection, of connectedness, the green shoots of life. An old Chinese saying promises that "if you keep a green branch in your heart, the singing bird will come." The koan path offers us that. It greens the practice with its Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-58762390162711569972009-06-19T11:57:00.000-07:002009-08-18T17:56:43.447-07:00a green branch in my heartDear heart,I strike at you and hear you clear. You vibrate, resonate, cut through space.I grip the branch but not too firmly. When it bounces back the leaves blur my eyes with a streak of green. This is your color, your unseen fullness of empty space, your song.I listen when you make harmony with the world and are lifted high, painting rainbows across the sky, and I am home. And when the Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-24938729805593168602009-05-30T18:02:00.000-07:002011-03-03T01:07:02.434-08:00my career, my kids, pt 2Yesterday I canoed to Newcastle Island with some friends. We sat on the beach and I tripped out on the way sand felt and moved and sounded in my hand. My friends gave me fruit and chocolate, and taught me that monkeys open bananas by biting off the bottom, which is rather fun to do. I tripped out on the way food tastes and feels in my mouth, and how salty sand is when you accidentally eat it Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-1148154620402593882009-05-29T13:43:00.000-07:002011-03-03T21:01:22.715-08:00my career, my kidsRecently over wine with some ladies I put on a show telling stories about how pathetic my love life is, all the times something started to feel right and then disaster ensued. I felt like a comedian on stage and we laughed really hard.
But then my friend said her head fits just right on her husband's chest and she feels at home there, and it didn't seem so funny anymore. I said, "I don't Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-35599940545385664972009-04-27T15:26:00.000-07:002009-08-08T16:28:42.320-07:00That will never happen again.I met someone.We've spent the past two days playing in mud and talking. For the few hours that I slept I only dreamed that we were there in that field. When we came to the crossroads I said "bye!" casually, as though we'd see each other again soon, and pedaled my heart out, up and away, because it was over.Since we discussed all the angles with wide open hearts, there's nothing left to process,Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-67775705792253609762009-04-19T12:11:00.000-07:002009-08-04T17:01:07.184-07:00Oh brother!Met some lovely men last night. Had a little one-on-one time with most of them and all was rad. So what is it about putting them all together round a bonfire that changes everything?I'm feeling a bit hurt and frustrated. I apologize for the undertones of rant herein... I'm trying to present a calm explanation of myself, but I don't have detached control of my feelings, and I think that's okay. Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-4722920770844554472009-04-10T23:23:00.000-07:002009-04-11T14:53:43.785-07:00God WithinOkay. All semester I've been limiting how much I let myself read & think & get excited about COMEDY. And now I'm racing to pour over all this stuff because I've decided it's what I should've been doing all along, where I am right now, and EXACTLY what I need to write a paper on. And it's not like it wasn't obvious to me how it all comes together into one thing, but I was worried if I let myself Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-72357701218394300992009-04-04T13:23:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:26:45.800-07:00Two years: A text message retrospectiveHeidegger would say my phone is more present to me now that it is lost. I wish I could remember what section of Being and Time talks about coming home to find you've been burgled, but I'm supposed to be doing homework so I won't spend any more time looking for the passage. But anyway, the unexpected startles you, makes you more alert, more aware of Being.I called JP back to see if he'd gotten Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-22922054604258078532009-03-24T00:55:00.000-07:002009-06-26T23:13:15.398-07:00Scultpingone of the most frustrating things for me is when i am seen as aggressive or intimidating. every occasion i think of that i've come across this way i was actually making myself vulnerable, displaying the fact that i have a feeling about something, and trying to blurt it out in the most simple and concise manner so as not to ask too much of anyone's attention, to state it with a humorous tone and Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-84549550417264905782009-03-17T22:56:00.000-07:002010-10-07T17:26:45.801-07:00The pigLast semester I dissected a fetal pig. There was something awesome and awful about seeing so much of him. I cried partly because it was senseless to me, but also, mostly, deeply, because cells -> tissue -> organ -> organism -> life. How can anybody be expected to handle thinking about that?oh you precious thing, you almost sacredand autonomous, prepared, already arriving perhaps,precious as Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-80314389993038094022009-03-03T13:20:00.000-08:002011-03-03T21:01:22.717-08:00Circular thingsThis morning I opened the tea cupboard thinking there were glasses in it, approximately where they're kept in Calgary. I woke up with a brain full of to do's instead of one solid "here I am." I need some time to get my bearings. I seem to be very busy all of a sudden. Busy with ten thousand good things. I am grateful and excited about feeling so in the middle of life. But when I am busy I have toChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-55763560878765658172009-02-21T12:24:00.000-08:002011-03-03T21:01:22.718-08:00More moving stories from the archivesPart I (on Hillcrest House)When I walked into the assessment center the first thing I noticed was that out the window, off in the distance, there was a kite flying. I've seen this kite before; I was on my way to view an apartment and was feeling as though my options were turning out to be quite limited. The kite was huge, black, with eerie flowing tendrils, and I took it as a bad omen. The suite Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-40313506957656399782009-02-20T02:40:00.000-08:002010-10-07T17:28:23.996-07:00Moving story from the archivesThis was shortly after I moved into Albert House. Everything has changed, nothing has changed, etcetera...Everything feels right at first, otherwise we wouldn't weave and dart as we do. But if I recall how many times I've turned a corner and felt sure only to end up in a corner with no turns, a blind alley fenced off from the bustling street, a dirty little basement apartment or a fight that Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-41914665729118128112009-02-12T00:21:00.000-08:002009-08-04T16:32:45.161-07:00Postcard storyI almost missed the last ferry. The cabbie wasn’t sure the dock I was looking for even existed. I burst in, breathless and giddy. It was empty but for a young boy with sunset red hair and a golden retriever. When I told him I was holding an address and nobody was expecting me, he explained it’s easy to get lost on the island called Protection, and I’d need him to show me the way.Streetlights wereChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-70989072873494387842009-02-03T18:49:00.000-08:002009-04-19T19:36:23.010-07:00ClaustrophobiaI attempted a work of Modern art today. I don't think I understand Modern art. My goal was to use happy & soothing colors in such a way as to evoke nausea. I think I succeeded.I went caving last weekend to find out if I'm claustrophobic. Yeah, a little actually, but it was radical. The first one was the smallest and most scary, and the reason I'm covered in bruises. But I lay there on my tummy inChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-35050412050803470812009-01-30T13:50:00.000-08:002009-04-11T13:46:23.397-07:0025 things1. I shave my arms. Some days my skin feels too sensitive and that seems to help.2. I have two little journals just for tracking (1) compliments and (2) insults. This experiment didn't last very long; it's a lot to keep track of and nobody should pay that much attention to what people think of you. Rather, nobody *can* because, it turns out, there is a constant stream of compliments and insults Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-68036210843255483202009-01-29T13:15:00.000-08:002009-04-11T13:08:29.697-07:00Time travelDec 31, 1999: My mother says that if we ever figure out time travel, this is probably the time I'll come back to, to see myself as I used to be. "Look out for your future self tonight."Nine years later now. I've been getting the feeling all month that if we ever figure out time travel, this is the time I would come back to, to see myself on the edge of something. I feel like I'm changing, and theChelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-22782995215073637202009-01-23T20:21:00.000-08:002009-08-19T01:23:48.662-07:00What we doThere's a line in a Songs: Ohia tune, "you are the one true thing in a world of untrue things." I always thought that was outrageously romantic. A little too bleak, but such is the nature of romantic talk, and as such it should be used sparingly in real life. But that's because romance is too small to really put into words, and language creates some big, clumsy caricature of it.Anyway, a friend Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-20879795010567027452009-01-12T22:52:00.000-08:002009-04-11T12:57:12.796-07:00PlayThis afternoon Justin showed me his notebook from math class. It's called poetry and patterns or something like that. Sounds pretty great. But he was telling me about this game on a round table where players take turns putting down a piece, and that the best strategy is to mirror everything your opponent does, and then you will win. I asked him what it means to win, and he said putting down the Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-46337944552845245932009-01-12T17:40:00.000-08:002009-04-11T12:53:26.195-07:00sizes & directionsI rode in a hot air balloon once. I think it's time to go back up there. This was my second thought this morning. My first was "w-w-whoooooa."Two steps out of bed I had attempted the balance board. I thought maybe it would be easier in my sleepiness, my not having put anything into my mind yet, but it was harder. I wake up with no sense of up & down, here & there. There was fluttering, and Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-50825601451645983652009-01-11T15:56:00.000-08:002009-08-04T16:40:25.151-07:00GregorI was considering my deep ecology class when I encountered an insect. I tried to ask it a question but I don't know how to listen to bugs. Having no concept of communicating with the world is sort of the point that I need to embrace right now, though. I watched him crawl a while, and thought it a bit sad that he was expending so much effort since I could see he was headed for a dead end. He'll Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-6471968040562625592009-01-05T11:26:00.000-08:002011-11-08T20:33:02.955-08:00Stroke
I had the most beautiful dream. I was having a stroke. Everything was mixed up and upside down. Nobody could understand what I was saying. My dirty laundry was all jammed up in a photocopier.
Two doctors finally came to help me. One gave me an olive branch. The other held me tightly in his arms and danced me around (like a mother rocking her baby) and whisper-sang a song into my ear Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7394027552159324923.post-11419093590527329322008-12-22T11:59:00.000-08:002010-10-07T17:28:23.998-07:00Albert HouseI'm moving next week. (Wait, next week?! I don't even have boxes yet.)I'm so relieved to be leaving this house, but not really. It's been really difficult living here. I feel that where you live has tremendous significance in your life: the house, neighborhood, people who share your space, all interconnected with your feelings and the course of your life, all affecting each other.My life, this Chelseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14882328677046429148noreply@blogger.com0