Self portrait, Olympic National Park, 2014
Garfield Park Conservatory, 2016
20160305
20151219
20150824
watch your step while exiting the plane
my open window brought a chill with this morning's sun. then the geese flew by, and with their honk//honnk//honnnking the memory of autumn, twinging, visceral. the weight of Things to Do, of no more open-swim, of school's return, the end of summer lovin'. the end of summer love. if July is 1969 then August lives off its breath until cornered by September, a brisk disco interruption to unshaved armpits and lax showers, dancing in the rain and "what day is it, anyway?"
where one is in the hospital again, and another has abbreviated in small-print his invitation for my Great Canadian Escape and I have nowhere left to run after months of frolic. wilderness. I yearn for wild. I yearn for my heart, who yearns for me, who says, don't run. stay with me. you always want to run when things get real. and, I love you still.
grad classes begin this week, my anchor(ite) to the outside, my bulletin board of Look, I'm doing something, my Be-Back-in-Half-an-Hour to the working world.
don't quote me on this, but perhaps with age what they say is true, about the loosening of anxiety. Not that It has up and gone by any means, but I feel the hint of one less layer on my shoulders. the pressure of the anxiety atop the anxiety, which my twenties has invited in with the dirt by way of leaving the door open, that wicked tickle of Potential draining from my fingertips like sand.
let it fall. the little mound remaining in my palm is all I care to work with these days. what do I need a handful, when a dusting will do. a dusting will do.
where one is in the hospital again, and another has abbreviated in small-print his invitation for my Great Canadian Escape and I have nowhere left to run after months of frolic. wilderness. I yearn for wild. I yearn for my heart, who yearns for me, who says, don't run. stay with me. you always want to run when things get real. and, I love you still.
grad classes begin this week, my anchor(ite) to the outside, my bulletin board of Look, I'm doing something, my Be-Back-in-Half-an-Hour to the working world.
don't quote me on this, but perhaps with age what they say is true, about the loosening of anxiety. Not that It has up and gone by any means, but I feel the hint of one less layer on my shoulders. the pressure of the anxiety atop the anxiety, which my twenties has invited in with the dirt by way of leaving the door open, that wicked tickle of Potential draining from my fingertips like sand.
let it fall. the little mound remaining in my palm is all I care to work with these days. what do I need a handful, when a dusting will do. a dusting will do.
 |
| in case of an emergency landing |
20140811
mountain climbs and birdsongs
a mountain lures
and lies about its height
its secrets trickle down rocks
on wind
and tails of birds
singing, Come.
in that first step
a migration
a magnet, pulling
towards some unknown landscape
not knowing what it means
to reach a destination
a soft evade
the summit calls
higher than you've reached before
beware, amongst the clouds
waits vertigo
lurks doubt
let your bodies meet:
a bird, a mountain
singing, Come.
and lies about its height
its secrets trickle down rocks
on wind
and tails of birds
singing, Come.
in that first step
a migration
a magnet, pulling
towards some unknown landscape
not knowing what it means
to reach a destination
a soft evade
the summit calls
higher than you've reached before
beware, amongst the clouds
waits vertigo
lurks doubt
let your bodies meet:
a bird, a mountain
singing, Come.
20140720
Tibetan woman and child
Inspired by a film documenting a family of Tibetan nomads, spent my Sunday recreating a gorgeous scene of mother and babe…
Summer Pasture is a feature-length documentary that chronicles one summer with a young family amidst this period of great uncertainty. Locho, his wife Yama, and their infant daughter, nicknamed Jiatomah ("pale chubby girl"), spend the summer months in eastern Tibet's Zachukha grasslands, an area known as Wu-Zui or "5-Most," the highest, coldest, poorest, largest, and most remote county in Sichuan Province, China.
Summer Pasture is a feature-length documentary that chronicles one summer with a young family amidst this period of great uncertainty. Locho, his wife Yama, and their infant daughter, nicknamed Jiatomah ("pale chubby girl"), spend the summer months in eastern Tibet's Zachukha grasslands, an area known as Wu-Zui or "5-Most," the highest, coldest, poorest, largest, and most remote county in Sichuan Province, China.
20140611
Lighthouse
There dwells a song inside you
humming quietly in make.
Like a child, she knows no difference
of dreams and place of wake
and begins to build her sailboats
in the far seas of your mind,
moving them with whispers
her faith is ever blind.
What makes a journey worth it?
She never asks but knows—
having yet to ever meet the shore
her joy is in the wind
and so, it blows...
Do you hear that in the distance?
You must listen for her now—
for her song, her life,
her everything
is just what you allow.
humming quietly in make.
Like a child, she knows no difference
of dreams and place of wake
and begins to build her sailboats
in the far seas of your mind,
moving them with whispers
her faith is ever blind.
What makes a journey worth it?
She never asks but knows—
having yet to ever meet the shore
her joy is in the wind
and so, it blows...
Do you hear that in the distance?
You must listen for her now—
for her song, her life,
her everything
is just what you allow.
20140609
20140524
hopscotch kind of day
What do you get when you have an awesome stoop, a busy sidewalk and some rainbow chalk...
a fun way to get to know the neighbors :)
a fun way to get to know the neighbors :)
20140401
.JPG)
20140320
womb with a view
oh, dream catcher
let my dreams come through
and catch the fires that burn within
so that in the morning sun
I may reflect upon the ashes
and watch the green sprigs grow
let my dreams come through
and catch the fires that burn within
so that in the morning sun
I may reflect upon the ashes
and watch the green sprigs grow
20140307
What Woman
What Woman sits crosslegged
in a dress while slouching at the dinner table
eating honey by the spoon
What Woman blows raspberries
and makes faces at imaginary friends
in the park all afternoon
What Woman speeds up for her own delight
and stops time when she wants to
just because she can
What Woman keeps music playing
and doesn't just spasm
but twirls and...
What Woman gets lost in a dusky field
and follows the fireflies home—
(she knows exactly where she is.)
What Woman knows a secret—and knows that she knows
who bites her cheeks in church
and bustles and tickles and squirms
What Woman keeps Spring on her lips
even in the death of Winter
when hibernation boasts of no return
What Woman can break and heal a heart with just a glance,
reminding you of everything you've ever loved
and lost
in a dress while slouching at the dinner table
eating honey by the spoon
What Woman blows raspberries
and makes faces at imaginary friends
in the park all afternoon
What Woman speeds up for her own delight
and stops time when she wants to
just because she can
What Woman keeps music playing
and doesn't just spasm
but twirls and...
What Woman gets lost in a dusky field
and follows the fireflies home—
(she knows exactly where she is.)
What Woman knows a secret—and knows that she knows
who bites her cheeks in church
and bustles and tickles and squirms
What Woman keeps Spring on her lips
even in the death of Winter
when hibernation boasts of no return
What Woman can break and heal a heart with just a glance,
reminding you of everything you've ever loved
and lost
20140224
inquiries of the heart-matter
What role does intellect serve
in realms of the soul?
What is it to know
to understand
to be?
and the purpose of answers,
when questions come whispering in the dark—
or Can you be still enough to hear them?
What could it mean
to be humbled
to be consumed
to yield
to such bigness?
How does a closed heart break open
again and again, without ceasing—
even when all signs point to death?
Where does the hard work of love begin
and does it ever end?
finally, and first of all,
When
will you wipe the sleep from your eyes,
will you seek
the heart of the matter,
give in
to the matter of the heart!
20140216
it is the brave work of Love.
I've had a lot of questions. since I was a child. plagued with questions. I've always wanted to find the answers, and I went around asking everyone… also there were points where I stopped asking them out loud---when I felt shamed with the questions I had, when I was disappointed in the response.. but I always came back to asking (as if there was a choice). I haven't found (m)any answers, and I am (kind of) ok with that now---I expect that---all I really end up with is more questions. but I am happy with a life that always finds something to ask. because one thing I have found: ask enough questions and you'll find less and less reasons to hide. you'll have less to hide from yourself, you'll hide less of yourself from others. this is a self-propelling cycle, which grows as it invites others to do the same.
so to those even "younger and more naive" than myself who are questioning everything, I say: don't stop! never stop. even when They tell you it's not worth the trouble, it's irrelevant, it doesn't make sense, there's no such thing, stay on topic. even worse when they smile and say, oh sweetheart, it's already been done. don't trust anyone who says they know the answer. they don't. they're lying to you or fooling themselves, and either way they're robbing you of the enjoyment of being with your own questions. because here's the thing: while it's incredibly difficult to sit with a question, the rewards are unmatched. small-minded, arrogant assholes will always try to take that away from you. many times under the guise of helping (you poor lost thing). the humility it takes to be stumped, to surrender, to accept one's own ultimate foolishness---that's not something we're taught in school. we are to shut up and listen to the big boys, who say 1+1=2, now repeat. and one day you might be a big boy too if you practice enough (even me? she asks, hiding her vagina).
the sooner you learn to ignore that hogwash, the sooner you can get on with the search. don't let anyone tempt you down a well-worn trail with signposts, and when that inevitably happens, say thank you but no, and turn. or sometimes, just RUN. no matter what path it takes you down, no matter how dark and scary it looks.. many times it won't look like a path at all, because it is not one yet. you'll surely get hurt along the way. but it is precisely here where you will find everything you're looking for. at the risk of this looking like an answer, i would say: it's your own heart. and no one can tell you the answers to the questions of your heart. so take the flashlight and follow the questions that whisper to you in the dark. let us be brave and do the work of love.
so to those even "younger and more naive" than myself who are questioning everything, I say: don't stop! never stop. even when They tell you it's not worth the trouble, it's irrelevant, it doesn't make sense, there's no such thing, stay on topic. even worse when they smile and say, oh sweetheart, it's already been done. don't trust anyone who says they know the answer. they don't. they're lying to you or fooling themselves, and either way they're robbing you of the enjoyment of being with your own questions. because here's the thing: while it's incredibly difficult to sit with a question, the rewards are unmatched. small-minded, arrogant assholes will always try to take that away from you. many times under the guise of helping (you poor lost thing). the humility it takes to be stumped, to surrender, to accept one's own ultimate foolishness---that's not something we're taught in school. we are to shut up and listen to the big boys, who say 1+1=2, now repeat. and one day you might be a big boy too if you practice enough (even me? she asks, hiding her vagina).
the sooner you learn to ignore that hogwash, the sooner you can get on with the search. don't let anyone tempt you down a well-worn trail with signposts, and when that inevitably happens, say thank you but no, and turn. or sometimes, just RUN. no matter what path it takes you down, no matter how dark and scary it looks.. many times it won't look like a path at all, because it is not one yet. you'll surely get hurt along the way. but it is precisely here where you will find everything you're looking for. at the risk of this looking like an answer, i would say: it's your own heart. and no one can tell you the answers to the questions of your heart. so take the flashlight and follow the questions that whisper to you in the dark. let us be brave and do the work of love.
ever morning a sleep end
wipe the sleep from the eye
every morning even
when the sky is not that crispy blue
you love
so much.
is there wisdom
in my naiveté—there is
niaveté in my wisdom
a healthy fool is gold
nobody tell him otherwise
he does his work
he dig
he cry
he bow and
bend and
wipe the sleep from the eye
every morning even
when the sky is not that crispy blue
you love
so much.
is there wisdom
in my naiveté—there is
niaveté in my wisdom
a healthy fool is gold
nobody tell him otherwise
he does his work
he dig
he cry
he bow and
bend and
wipe the sleep from the eye
20140129
--—-–-—----
my tears
make me strong
my tears
connect
remind
lead to
who i am
not just Everything
i am
woman:
who cries
who loves
who cries to be loved
as
a child
who drinks her tears
i consume.
i am consumed.
tie a red thread and
re member
remember me
remember me?
you remember me!
i've been here all along
and
what work we can do
together.
be still
be still
and let me move you
move,
together
we'll learn this dance
together
make me strong
my tears
connect
remind
lead to
who i am
not just Everything
i am
woman:
who cries
who loves
who cries to be loved
as
a child
who drinks her tears
i consume.
i am consumed.
tie a red thread and
re member
remember me
remember me?
you remember me!
i've been here all along
and
what work we can do
together.
be still
be still
and let me move you
move,
together
we'll learn this dance
together
20140126
20140106
20131117
[untitled]
I woke up early with the sun
and picked flowers from the sides
of lightposts, hydrants
a bouquet of orphans
weeds and dirty hands—
we walked together
when back at home
I stayed outside
and thought to lay my findings down
in an empty pot of soil
soft and too inviting
I did not know
I turned around or blinked—
and nothing remained,
nothing remained.
and picked flowers from the sides
of lightposts, hydrants
a bouquet of orphans
weeds and dirty hands—
we walked together
when back at home
I stayed outside
and thought to lay my findings down
in an empty pot of soil
soft and too inviting
I did not know
I turned around or blinked—
and nothing remained,
nothing remained.
20130928
The Place /
where people go for answers / why am i here? / seems as good a place as any /
statue stands with open arms, looking down at me /
i wait / it's warm for late september / sparrows sing & dance & play / child sobs / two men drink & laugh & sing some more / languages i cannot understand /
i listen / look up / above the outreaching mary / that beautiful arrow cuts through sky / that sharp cloud / and from my view / meets between two peaks, where crosses meet / and softens
/ disappears
. . .
I feel my fate: my fate finds me,
I feel my star: my star finds me,
I feel my aims: my aims find me.
my soul and the world are but one.
life grows more radiant about me,
life grows more arduous for me,
life grows richer for me.
statue stands with open arms, looking down at me /
i wait / it's warm for late september / sparrows sing & dance & play / child sobs / two men drink & laugh & sing some more / languages i cannot understand /
i listen / look up / above the outreaching mary / that beautiful arrow cuts through sky / that sharp cloud / and from my view / meets between two peaks, where crosses meet / and softens
/ disappears
. . .
I feel my fate: my fate finds me,
I feel my star: my star finds me,
I feel my aims: my aims find me.
my soul and the world are but one.
life grows more radiant about me,
life grows more arduous for me,
life grows richer for me.
20130826
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