These two things that are the driving forces of our existence have been my new tyrants. The past few weeks have been pregnant with new challenges...and new beginnings. One challenge. Standing up for myself. Result: getting a little more of what I want out of life.
Challenge 2: SLEEP and BREATH. I have not been sleeping. And when I do, it certainly does not leave the impression that what I have just thought about for 2 hours was only dream. Thus, dream and life are blending more and more, and I have some suspicions that the movie "Waking Life" is actually a true story. This I will overcome I am confidant. It is a temporary challenge along the way.
The breath comes in like this. I am short of breath with allergies. I biked from Brooklyn to work on the upper west side the other day and the breath was taken swiftly from my body.
New beginnings: Something is making its way in, like a breath of fresh air, and I can't say much except that its keywords are adventure, wind, trust, and heart. And skipping.
I leave with this thought...that it will leave me when I lay down tonight, and I won't be able to recall the dark until I wake up again.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
First weekend in weeks
Because of Martin Luther King Jr. day, I have today (Sunday), and tomorrow off. I have to leave in about 5 minutes for choir rehearsal, but I have a purring kitty on my lap watching what words are being created on the screen as I type, (he's fascinated by my typing), and I seem to have grown immensely sleepy from working out, eating, then sitting... I really just want to curl up. And I seem to have just eaten something tasting a little on the funky side, rotten eggy tasting, and I'm not happy about this situation.
I was supposed to make myself sing and warm up before practice today, but I failed to do so.
Anyway, I'll write more later. But I needed to just get something out before I headed out into the world of subways and shuttle buses (my train is never working on the weekends now.)
And, oh yeah, it's COLD. Remember that time I was complaining about the weather being fucked up and too warm for my well-being? Well, let's just say I have a tendency to yearn for the greener grass. And so, my dears, whoever is reading or to the spirits that may be guiding me tonight, I wish you farewell.
To warm sweaters, drafty windows, and loving kittens. And a rotten taste in your mouth...
I was supposed to make myself sing and warm up before practice today, but I failed to do so.
Anyway, I'll write more later. But I needed to just get something out before I headed out into the world of subways and shuttle buses (my train is never working on the weekends now.)
And, oh yeah, it's COLD. Remember that time I was complaining about the weather being fucked up and too warm for my well-being? Well, let's just say I have a tendency to yearn for the greener grass. And so, my dears, whoever is reading or to the spirits that may be guiding me tonight, I wish you farewell.
To warm sweaters, drafty windows, and loving kittens. And a rotten taste in your mouth...
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Ode to my 3rd grade love
what is it that makes you fall for that first crush? It can't based on something that actually occurs in real life...like, you really connected when you first discovered you both have a collection of old bottles. I think it's an image, and you're suddenly inclined to love that image because it's so familiar and strange at the same time. But you've never looked him in the eyes, and you'll never know why the obsession has taken hold of you except for one reason, which is this thing called magnetism. And suddenly, you discover what attraction is. That it's an energy that exists like a bubble between two forces, pushing and pulling, and you can stop it as much as a speeding train can come to a deafening halt.
1st Love Poem
When I sit in my rib-caged desk,
1st Love Poem
When I sit in my rib-caged desk,
I stare
at chipped away signatures, and puttied hearts.
I scratch some lines with my number 2 pencil,
hoping you'll catch me under your vise
and see that I'm different from the rest.
I know that we're meant to be with each other because
your hair and eyes are shiny brown.
They glow and I've never wanted to hold something so secret before.
Chalk makes cloud and blurs my attention and
I drink your face into my memory
and savor your name.
One day,
after school, I walked to my father's office
dreading the boredom of typing and silence and office carpet smells
that match the office chair and magazine smells.
Before walking through the jingle-belled door,
you were there, with your skateboard, practicing in MY father's business yard.
Hello.
Hello.
Quick. Rush and beating heart, I pass body and go inside,
escaping the whirlwind of desire to another room of desks and chairs.
I think of the doorway and I think of entering it, exiting the outside world of possibility.
There's no wind inside, and
I dream of the Brown again and again.
at chipped away signatures, and puttied hearts.
I scratch some lines with my number 2 pencil,
hoping you'll catch me under your vise
and see that I'm different from the rest.
I know that we're meant to be with each other because
your hair and eyes are shiny brown.
They glow and I've never wanted to hold something so secret before.
Chalk makes cloud and blurs my attention and
I drink your face into my memory
and savor your name.
One day,
after school, I walked to my father's office
dreading the boredom of typing and silence and office carpet smells
that match the office chair and magazine smells.
Before walking through the jingle-belled door,
you were there, with your skateboard, practicing in MY father's business yard.
Hello.
Hello.
Quick. Rush and beating heart, I pass body and go inside,
escaping the whirlwind of desire to another room of desks and chairs.
I think of the doorway and I think of entering it, exiting the outside world of possibility.
There's no wind inside, and
I dream of the Brown again and again.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Winter's playing a joke on me
I know I have a mind, and I have the ability to know the comings and goings of the seasons, but these warm January days are daring me to think spring, to want to take flight again and start my seasons over from where they started in May. Except, part of me knows I'm being beckoned and teased at the same time, and that if I peep my head out, I might just get frost bite. The irony is, the western new year begins in the dead of winter. What is there to renew this time of year?
Or maybe that's the point. In the darkness, it's so easy to retreat into our holes and wait for all this to breeze over. But really, the winter is a time to regenerate and form new habits with ourselves and others. Like when our synapses are actually doing the work for us when we sleep at night preparing the body for a new self in the morning. So with that said, as much as I enjoy a nice warm winter day, it does feel a little like a chip in my teacup.
It's been too long since I've written here. I've been distracted, and still am in a way. But I'm learning to focus the more I live here. Which is crazy because this city is certainly not the most well-tempered places on earth. But I've never felt as capable as I do right now, which still isn't saying much, but I've gained a stronger hide thanks to things like heartbreak, uncertainty and New York City blues.
But this does not bring me down. I have acquired a new sheen to go along with my hide. It sparkles in the most unexpected moments and gives me confidence when I'm longing for a solution. I find I'm falling in love with people all over the place. And they excite me and I want to send my glittery sheen out to them. Even in the office or on the street, I see people walking by, each of them with a different hue of color. Some are gray, some are rainbow, some just pale blue like fog. It's fascinating, and it's beautiful. Perhaps the Salman Rushdie I've been reading is rubbing off onto my hands and into my fingers tonight.
I heard tomorrow is supposed to have rains all day. (don't be fooled, it's only january. the rain will trickle down to a defenseless surface)
Or maybe that's the point. In the darkness, it's so easy to retreat into our holes and wait for all this to breeze over. But really, the winter is a time to regenerate and form new habits with ourselves and others. Like when our synapses are actually doing the work for us when we sleep at night preparing the body for a new self in the morning. So with that said, as much as I enjoy a nice warm winter day, it does feel a little like a chip in my teacup.
It's been too long since I've written here. I've been distracted, and still am in a way. But I'm learning to focus the more I live here. Which is crazy because this city is certainly not the most well-tempered places on earth. But I've never felt as capable as I do right now, which still isn't saying much, but I've gained a stronger hide thanks to things like heartbreak, uncertainty and New York City blues.
But this does not bring me down. I have acquired a new sheen to go along with my hide. It sparkles in the most unexpected moments and gives me confidence when I'm longing for a solution. I find I'm falling in love with people all over the place. And they excite me and I want to send my glittery sheen out to them. Even in the office or on the street, I see people walking by, each of them with a different hue of color. Some are gray, some are rainbow, some just pale blue like fog. It's fascinating, and it's beautiful. Perhaps the Salman Rushdie I've been reading is rubbing off onto my hands and into my fingers tonight.
I heard tomorrow is supposed to have rains all day. (don't be fooled, it's only january. the rain will trickle down to a defenseless surface)
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