Tuesday, July 31, 2007

travel...




the freight train has gone
without a sound.
the abandoned, old station
sits in whispers
and hisses of the little legged
creatures who sing in present tenses

dancing flowers and nectar finders
buzz the long rusted iron lane
where the night train would come
and the whistle would sound
as the passengers waited
for the misty cloud storm

cases from places so far
from these parts riddled
the path with colourful arts
as the goodbyes held long
and the winds shshshhhhhhhhhed
a great sigh would song
its night lullaby

from out of these mists
into light of the day
from travelers gone so far, far away
a kind old remembrance that
lives on this path
where the nectar finders buzz
and the flowers now dance

. wearsunscreen .
. breathe .
. live each day.

Friday, July 20, 2007

. s i g h .




By Jia Tian Shi


a friend's poem
brought forth
some summertime remembrances...


the sound of the old iron fan
with its musings whizzing past
the dancing hairs of my younger self

the smell of grass heat and humidity
and the tic-tock of the wall clock
that was aways caught being five minutes late

shadow play on the yellow walls
while toes scrunched in the shag carpet
and my mother
in her blue striped sundress
swaying
making supper.

. summer rememberance .

a friend's poem brought forth a memory of sorts...

i recall
the sound of the old iron fan
with its musings whizzing past
the dancing hairs of my younger self

the smell of grass heat and humidity
and the tic-tock of the wall clock
that was aways caught being five minutes late

shadow play on the yellow walls
while toes scrunched in the shag carpet
and my mother
in her blue striped sundress
swaying
making supper.

painting by Jia Tian Shi

Sunday, June 24, 2007

happiness...


is the best face lift...

so has occurred to me that tomorrow marks the 4 year anniversary of me moving out of my apartment in victoria...

at the time ... i was so unhinged. broken.
felt like i was caught in a void that held
no summer nor winter
no chill nor warmth
no light nor darkness..
empty.
the thought of leaving home was so intense that i truly thought i was breaking inside.

and now..
four turns of the wheel..
strange places, odd faces..
new tastes and heart race(ing)
from the dryness into rain..
i was a springtime seed in the wind
and now..
i am growing like a vine
stretching out my finger leaves
embracing the new life.. the new hope.. the new home
that is within me.

leaving victoria was truly the best thing that ever happened to me.

and at times, my homesickness for the island life kicks me back a few notches..
but i am finding that the seattle area is not such a bad consolation prize.
sweetness of cedar.. arbutus daydreams.. vine ripened marion berries.. candied salmon.. ferry boat rides... mountains EVERYWHERE i look.. my own private meadow with robins and stellarjays.. swallows and sparrows.. chickadees and warblers.. a backyard symphony!!
yeah..
and a person who loves me
all the time
not just sometimes
but always.

i feel transformed. and alive.. and young.
my friends tell me that i look better than i ever did in victoria...
the stress is gone from my eyes..
the hurt has healed
and my soul is calm.
perhaps that is the greatest gift of all.

music and creation is my everyday diet.
and with my pirate by my side, great friends to fill the sails with laughter..
the adventure is amazing.

happiness...

is the best face lift...

so has occurred to me that tomorrow marks the 4 year anniversary of me moving out of my apartment in victoria...

at the time ... i was so unhinged. broken.
felt like i was caught in a void that held
no summer nor winter
no chill nor warmth
no light nor darkness..
empty.
the thought of leaving home was so intense that i truly thought i was breaking inside.

and now..
four turns of the wheel..
strange places, odd faces..
new tastes and heart race(ing)
from the dryness into rain..
i was a springtime seed in the wind
and now..
i am growing like a vine
stretching out my finger leaves
embracing the new life.. the new hope.. the new home
that is within me.

leaving victoria was truly the best thing that ever happened to me.

and at times, my homesickness for the island life kicks me back a few notches..
but i am finding that the seattle area is not such a bad consolation prize.
sweetness of cedar.. arbutus daydreams.. vine ripened marion berries.. candied salmon.. ferry boat rides... mountains EVERYWHERE i look.. my own private meadow with robins and stellarjays.. swallows and sparrows.. chickadees and warblers.. a backyard symphony!!
yeah..
and a person who loves me
all the time
not just sometimes
but always.

i feel transformed. and alive.. and young.
my friends tell me that i look better than i ever did in victoria...
the stress is gone from my eyes..
the hurt has healed
and my soul is calm.
perhaps that is the greatest gift of all.

music and creation is my everyday diet.
and with my pirate by my side, great friends to fill the sails with laughter..
the adventure is amazing.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

film shoots and festivals


folklife has come and gone ..
it was the grooviest festival that i have been to / been a part of.
kind volunteers, fun times, and interesting costumes... not to mention the organic, vegan mini doughnuts that the thought makes my mouth water!! YUM!

interesting folks.. great music.. a little rain and dancing children... magic tricks from a good friend and whiskey! :bounce:
good times...

incidently....
have you seen rapidograph's new look!?

he was very popular at the folk life... people kept coming up to him asking if he was alright! :D

today, we are filming on location at an old building in pioneers square. Captain has a new script ready for the Kurosawa filmfestival and I am playing a role in his movie entitled "Water From the Mountain" You can read the script here [link]

should be a great day!
many things on the go right now...
and summer is in the air!

happy happy joy joy!

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

vague plague


plague
Pronunciation: \ ˈplāg \
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English plage, from Late Latin plaga, from Latin, blow; akin to Latin plangere to strike — more at plaint
Date: 14th century

1 a: a disastrous evil or affliction : calamity b: a destructively numerous influx ..a plague of locusts..
2 a: an epidemic disease causing a high rate of mortality : pestilence b: a virulent contagious febrile disease that is caused by a bacterium (Yersinia pestis) and that occurs in bubonic, pneumonic, and septicemic forms —called also black death
3 a: a cause of irritation : nuisance b: a sudden unwelcome outbreak ..a plague of burglaries..

so today marks one week in the return of the plague, part II.
i have been ping-ponging with this nasty pestilence for a month and it is a real nuisance.
my cough makes it appear that i do in fact have the black death and that locusts could and quite probably will emerge from my ears at any moment!!!

:omg:

okay.
maybe not.
but  i am quite sick of being sick.
i know that i only have myself to blame.
i have been carrying on like a teenager, just returned last week from a 4 day party express with my girls where i do not think that there was a moment when some form of vodka/cider/whiskey concoction wasnt on the menu. from bloody marys at breakfast to cider in the hottub.. yeah.. i did it to myself. :giggle:

so here's to more hot toddies
and an end to my phlegm.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

. un thinkable .

the sky was like the sea
clouds held onto morning's
light like sleeply
children tucked under covers
this monday light
was ordinary
such a light that one would see
on a tuesday or thursday of our life
then the light
that burned so bright
changed so vividly into night
when the stars that twinkle
even in the day
seemed to fall from the sky
and whither away
all too soon
the stars lost their light
all too soon
the stars lost their light

stolen from the sky
by the hands of quiet boy
who in confusion lost his sight
of life and love
of wrong and right
and in the world of
time and thought
the unthinkable happened
on that monday dawn
while those stars
that burned bright
even through the daylight
all too soon
lost their light
all too soon
the stars lost their light

. count down to earth day 2007 .

photography has alway been a passion...
capturing the simple things that perhaps one would overlook was always a game to me.. like uncovering a secret in the sand and wondering if it was placed there just for me...
sometimes images can be as strong as a touch, flooding back memories like a fragrance of an old love.. or an echo of laughter now departed..
it can be the symphony of the forest or the silent sparkles of the stars..

i believe that a picture can tell a thousand words...
like laundry on a clothesline.. my life has been documented with one photo after another.. zig zaging from one point of my life to another..
*smiles* dad was always snapping that camera..
...from first birthdays to road trips...
... silly sleepovers to serious convictions by the fashion police...
documented... and waiting for a moment of fond remembrance and perhaps blackmail.

i can remember, when i was very young, my mother would bring out this old photo album with all the great, great, great, grandmothers' pictures in it.. i remember the way that it smelled.. dusky musky.. the pages were black and the yellowed photos were held in place by fragile little corners.. the stories that would come from that book.. radio stores, bookees, tales of huge italian dinners that i swear i could feel the humidity from the pasta water and smell the basil and garlic frying in the olive oil... to the warmth of my nana's smile, her perfume and her broken english...

yes, our photographs are the illustrations to our storybooks... such tales!

for earthday, i started a little countdown on my deviantart site...


each day i will submit another photo until april 22.. earthday.
i've been away from taking pictures lately ... so i am back in the swing.
funny how us artist types flipflop between mediums.. it's like we are artistically promiscuous!

anyhoo..
take the time to look around.
taste the air and see the colours around you.
what is your story...

Saturday, March 03, 2007

. lilac .



on a rain swept morning
down past the old bridge
i walked to the water
where my memories lived
they sang the old songs
that my younger days knew
and i saw old reflections
of summer trees and you

bicycle rides
laughter and chess
silly secrets
and backyard picnics
we created new worlds out of
clouds dressed as clowns
as we made our way round
the town we were bound

and i think of the choice
that we had to make
and how the pain hurt so long
how i thought i would break
and you said that you thought
that you'd hold me back
when forward with you
was like rain on lilacs

i haven't been back
to the town where we met
the thought crossed my mind
though i feared the regret
to hear echos of laughter
that rolled through those streets
where we spent summer months
kissing soft with bare feet

do you think of the what ifs
if i'd only stayed
would we be happy and married
or tired and frayed
would i still be that beauty
that you'd use to see
when our days were so simple
with soft grass and tall trees

and i think of the choice
that we had to make
and how the pain hurt so long
how i thought i would break
and you said that you thought
that you'd hold me back
when forward with you
was like rain on lilacs

so many years gone
i'm happy and wed
at times the thoughts of you
are hard to hold forget
i wonder if you are
sailing the sky
like the bird that you were
uncaged and free fly

at daybreak, it's true
the time that i'd say
when the lilacs are sweet
from the dew of the day
that i swear that i catch
the scent of your skin
when the summer was lush
and we walked hand in hand

and i think of the choice
that we had to make
and how the pain hurt so long
how i thought i would break
and you said that you thought
that you'd hold me back
when forward with you
was like rain on lilacs

when forward with you
was like rain on lilacs

Thursday, December 07, 2006

pages of the brain

Journal Entry: Thu Dec 7, 2006, 8:40 AM
  • Mood: Awestruck
  • Listening to: castles in the sand - hendrix
  • Reading: the broken tusk - uma
  • Watching: touch the sound
  • Playing: how to avoid work and other pointless activities
  • Eating: oatbar
  • Drinking: assam black from india
the moment the pressure is on...
the muse sits on the curl of my ear, screaming....
and i can't write thoughts down fast enough......

*sigh*
for the last 3 months, i have been given the time to create, record, and finish up projects that have been on the back burner for years and soon that 'free time' will draw to an end. I will have to assume 'normal' life and return to the work world. frankly, this makes my stomach turn and my face smirk in that same way that i used to feel when the summer would draw to an end i would hafta go back to school. bleh. :cry:

i have been playing neuro-tennis and contemplating the idea of a partime job vs a full time job.
part time would give me lots of free time still and allow me to slowly pay off debt.
full time would give me little free time and i would be out of debt in a year.

ugh! i am torn. i just want to create full time and leave the rest behind.

...my childrens stories are coming together.
...i have a half completed album
...7 paintings that i have to finish.
all while the muse keeps smiling at me like an energetic child whirling back and forth wilding telling tales of Jody Tody, Buzzzing bees, Mischief Tabbys, snails, Gertzthurners and Wyngangzies (oh, forgive me, you couldnt possibly know what a Gertzhurner and a Wyngangzy is.. but you will soon learn about in SID - snail in disguise) :D
see.... too much going on :faint:

sometimes my caffeine can't keep up! :coffeecup:

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

cry wolf

  • Mood: Amazed
  • Listening to: uncloudy day - willie nelson
  • Reading: harry pot-head 6
  • Watching: wildlife in my backyard
  • Playing: peekaboo with the sparrows
  • Eating: cadbury fruit and nut
  • Drinking: peach honeybush tea

"To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul"
Aldo Leopold


so the rains went and came back..
with the american turkey day being just around the corner, i made my grocery list, put on my wellies and dufflecoat and headed out the door...
the wind was pretty gusty. i was still shaking off the surprise of hearing thunder & seeing lightning earlier this morning (that doesnt usually happen around the pacific northwest!)
I locked my door and looked around the corner to see if i would need to engage the umbrella ..
but
what to my wondering eyes should appear...

but a wet grey wolf with his tail down as well as his ears!

I shook my head and blinked and blinked.. and it was STILL There!
:omg:

being new to the area and not really wanting to be on the lunch menu of my little wolfie friend, I casually went back inside and sought out the trusty binoculars to get a better look from the double paned window...
a wolf?! maybe grandma was out there too!
.
but when i arrived at the window, it was gone.
was i mad? having an acid flashback from a former life? was i being visited by ancient native peoples on this prelude to thanksgiving??
:hmm:

there must be an explanation. i was fairly certain that this wasnt a doggie. its ears were smaller than a dog and it was unmistakeably the same colour as the wolves that live in the cascades..
so i stripped off the outer gear and headed straight away to the puter to research.
apparently there are no record of sightings in the bothell area, but with all the new development on the wetlands and highlands, it wouldnt surprise me if critters started turning up in the most unheard of places.  i do live on government protected wildlife land and watched salmon spawning in the stream last month.. so what's a little more wildlife!

i still had no real concrete evidence. damn it, sometimes i feel like Scully.

so i called the one seattle native who i was certain could give me the answers that i sought... rapidograph!

he was like.. 'um.. what?!'
yes, Gary, a wolf!
are you sure it wasnt a coyote? or a big dog?
well, i cant be sure; but, it wasnt wearing a collar and i wasnt about to call out 'Here Puppy! Come to the nice, tasty, curly haired lady!'

he had never heard of wolf sightings in bothell either, but agreed it could be a possiblity.
so the case will never be solved! perhaps i will see it again... i kinda hope so.

we laughed about it being a visitor from another world.. and it got me to thinking about yet another children's story.. :)

I called the hubbie, gave him the grocery list, and told him to beware of wolves and he said... its not okay for you to be lunch but its okay for me to be dinner! i see how it is! :rofl: he's a good man, charlie brown.

. wearsunscreen .
. siptea.
. believethatanythingispossible.

Monday, August 28, 2006

. westcoastin' .

. summer sigh . ..back to the west coast and i am in bliss..
we spent the entire day swimming at deep cove and ate fresh blackberries until my lower lip was stained a lovely shade of violet...

starlight starbright.. i wish i may i wish i might

i am not exactly in the place i wish, but i will take that i am soo close! i can visit my home all the time and things are falling into place nicely!

my pirate found a rightly ship to work on! it pays a nice treasure indeed!

i am taking my time finding my new employer. i will not be a prisoner like i was for so long.. my time is precious and i will find something worthy..

at the moment all i want to do is strum my guitar and watch the golden light flicker through the dancing trees ... they sway all day. i wonder if they hear my music. i hope that they do!

today my freckles smiled.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

journey

.. get out the map..

...back from one adventure ... on to the next....

many realities have come to be
my job has become that of a bad relationship
and i am leaving

we are embarking our way to seattle
and there is no stopping us

pirate and first mate
seashell and leaf

while my experiences in tulsa have been that of
a socialogical study, i have learned that
a stale climate doubled with corporate, single serving america
makes my inner sparkle.. well, for lack of better words..
less sparkley.

i am a sparkler. a go getter. a kite in the sky.
and this dusty air and hot tempered bible belt
grounded me  far too much.

my last gigs in tulsa will be:
june 10 saffron - benefit for food for thought
june 23 saffron - last featured performance. i will be inviting special guests for a jam session.

we hope to escape by mid july.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

. path of the parsley.


Wed Feb 15, 2006, 9:56 AM
.. on the road

question rush in like dusty brambles
stuck on truths, tastes, treasures
that breathed life in a storybook i owned long ago
why am i here
do i have purpose
or am i just like 'everyone' else
watching the life slip by
in another dust storm
to be eventually captured by the rain

rain. i have forgotten how it feels
how it sounds

this is the hardest time of year for me here.
it is soo dry, so brown, so.. bleh
it makes me feel bleh too
like i am just walking in the same footsteps
over and over
and the only difference i see
is the traffic on the carpet of my life
such patterns.
such lies.
such blandness

i need to travel.
i need to see someplace else
i need a new career.

my love has been supportive. he brought me 2 tulips in soil to plant in my garden. my parents gave me a rose bush to tend to too. the green of the leaves seems to make me giddy in a way i cant explain
my decimated herb garden is still holding on for me.. as if to say.. dont forget we are here. parsely is a crazy thing. it will grow and grow and green and green even without water. so resilient.
am i to follow the path of parsely?
i was once resilient.
perhaps i still am.. just dormant for the winter.

:shrug:

my mind never stops.

maybe thats a good thing.

Monday, February 06, 2006

. the raven .

... and with the hum of the tungston stars you shall know that the worst has evolved. never in time has truth been so tangled. the night will be long and the sun will hide in fear. ..

she crumpled up the news paper and let it gather its wings. what do they know!
her whisps of hair danced on the winds advances. she lowered the hood of her cloak down and perched looking out at the old belfry theatre. the leaves danced in the amber glow of the streetlamps and she could taste the beginnings of rain on the air. enough of this.
confidence, truth, belief, defender of mankind...

was it all a lie?

Friday, February 03, 2006

. the syrena .

The waters were calm as the boatman paddled slowly. His eyes were cast to the sky and he wondered where the players were tonight. The strait from ttaerus and sumgullom was at least an hour's journey on a clear night. The boatman found that the players kept his mind focused and away from the merfolk's attempts on his paying fairs. They prey on the unsuspecting and especially on the ones who keep they gaze upon them. They enchant, they wooo and then steal their very breath leaving the boatman to deal with a soulless body. As the paddle cut through the black waters the sounds of the syrens seemed to echo louder than ever before. He kept his sites straight on and finally, moored at the dock.
Azelow was there cleaning fish. ever seen it like this before? he asked. the slick slice of the knife cut through the flesh. not since the caethwl reign has the night been so.. withdrawn. why the starman hasn't ... a splash in the waters interrupted him followed by a shrill laughter. Azelow's face whitened and he dropped his fish.
it glided through the water as a snake would on its hunts. it seemed to sparkle like the dawn reflecting waves only the sun was fast asleep. this slithering creature was gliding with some speed and was headed straight for the boatman and Azelow. they slowly stepped back from the edge. then, without warning, as fast as the strike of a cobra, water came forward at them as it was alive. it rushed the dock with such force that the little boat broke in half.

. the starman .

in the old attic of dusty thoughts and old motivations, beyond the collected stamps of foreign lands and the random butterfly wing, sits a girl with dusty fingers flipping through pages of an old diary. above her head are cut out stars strung by string and bits of tinsel. from the portal window, the sunlight streams a waterfall of golden exhales of a bellylaugh and a cigar. and in the corner, tucked away from sight and light, the old Wurlitzer sits ready to sing perfectly poised in anticipation of the crank of the curtainman to begin the show. it suddenly begins to rain...

"... and i waited there with the golden glow and hum of the streetlamps to keep me company. damn, it was cold. it wasn't like the starman to be late. he was most punctual and most of the time early and anxious. my stomach twinged with suspicion.. i looked up at the sky and it was eerily empty. orion was late for his performance. the twins weren't in their places and the seven sisters were nowhere to be found.."

thunder roars. he makes his war call. the old one-eyed cat races across the creaky wooden floor to find a hiding place. the young girl pops her head up and begins to scans the the room like a small animal watching for its predator. 'it's just the rain. it's just the rain. it's light outside. it's only rain,' she tells herself as she nestles her face into the collar of her woolen sweater until only her eyes can be seen. she turns the page...

"... i dug my hands into my pockets and found the feather of brenna. she always left me little reminders of her just when i needed them. i couldnt recall how long it had been since last we spoke. with the delbchaem war over, there wasnt much communication over the lightwaves. we lost touch... but she was always so sneaky. i stood there grinning with a onyx plume in my hand just as Nightwatch dropped down from his silver strand...

caught in her spell again, are you? he laughed knowing that he always caught me in the most human of times.

i coughed and ranted, where is starman. have you seen the sky?

yes, i watch, remember? he spun around like a trapeze artist practicing for the afternoon matinee. he whirled and dismounted with a half twist that left golden sparks against the blackness of night. i dont know. it seems very strange for him not to be here since he is always on us for being late. have you channeled Neeva? she's bound to know...

i was hoping that i wouldnt have to do that. i saw Siofra earlier tonight and she was up to something.. "

'neeerrrNoooooo one to talk with, all by myself, no one to walk with, but I'm happy on the shelf.. ain't misbehavin'... the Wurlitzer began to sing. the girl squeaks and drops the diary. the portal waterfall disappears as the dark clouds smother the day. the attic is washed in an odd blue light.

the girl rushes to the corner and luckily finds a friend, the cat. the Wurlitzer cracks and creaks. soon the sounds of sskip sskip ssssskip ssssskip ssssskip echo throughout the cavernous walls. the stars catch wind and dance over head while two stars shoot down to land on top of the diary. their tinsel ends still dancing in a strange draft. very slowly, she looks around and inches along the wall to the other end where the window lives. she takes a chair and places it at the base of the portal. "it is just a storm. there is nothing there. it is just a storm and there is nothing." with a half-bitten lip and a heavy exhale, the girl places her foot on the chair and pulls herself up. her face is cast in deep cyan and her eyes double in their natural size.

the window breaks and a sweep of air steals the girl away like a lost balloon.

to be continued...

Thursday, February 02, 2006

. the sigh .

listening to : philip glass
sipping: chai with vanilla silk

the randomness of things.

i was in the middle of writing my thoughts when the power just went out.
everything stopped and the light came back on. the monitor light blinked. and blinked again.
and my post was, of course, lost.

perhaps the universe was teaching me a lesson.
. . . a wrinkle of time . . . washed in and out with the wave of the stars . .
time is in motion/moving/constant. . .

begin once more.

the sunset was incredible tonight. the cyan and cerulean were dancing in skirts of clouds. the wisps of imagination spied humpback whales sailing into the deepest of blues. the sky was a symphony of deep ocean tones with the hints of sparkling gold. as if the world turned upside down, it was reflecting the ocean sunsets in the sky. it made me pine for home. the drop of the chest, the softness of eyes. . . it's like falling in love. . and not knowing why.

i've been milling over the idea of nature deficit disorder. my mood has been exceptionally melancholy over the last few months. i haven't had the time nor the desire to be in oklahoma 'forests'. horribly brown, void of colour, the countryside leaves more to be desired.
it hasnt rained in over 40 days where in victoria it hasn't stopped raining in 40 days. my skin is so dry and my heart is most cracked. there are days when i stare into my pictures and visualise myself walking over the moss covered stones, inhaling the perfumed forest air. i can almost hear stellar jays and the cry of the redtail hawk.

document. 'document everything!' i would say. i needed to capture those perfect, beautiful moments in time so that my mind would not forget the feeling of being caught in the web of purity. perhaps i always knew that my time there would be short, or that i knew secretly that i would need these moments in time to keep me alive when the rains would leave.
how my life here is so different! i used to be outside almost everyday in victoria. i would walk to do errands, to find solace, to seek adventure down streets lined with trees (arbutus, cedar, douglas firs, hawthorne, oak and ash and sooo many others). the cherry blossoms in spring ignited my heart like a love affair. as if neruda's words were being whispered cheek to cheek as two lovers whirl in the flowery snowplay. . true bliss.

i miss walking down cook street to dallas road. sipping on saskatoon berry cider from moka house, dodging cyclists and rogue frisbee chasing puppies, i would skip down the vine covered path to the public beach access. oh, the wind rush over the ears! down the stairs, over the driftwood to my favourite place to finally mush my toes into the sunkissed stones at the waterside. oh... they were soooo warm! i would sit and listen to seagull secrets, dream of great love stories (i swear that there were love letters tied to the strings of kites), lament over the relationship that i had (i'd wish that he would surprise me at the waterside just to tell me he loved me but he never did), and to know that all this would oneday pass just as the tide washed in and out. being here in this place always put my mind at ease, even on the saddess of days.


someday he'll come along, the man i love. well, my daydream of that knight in shining armor that we are told about as children did finally come along. i never expected that i would find him in tulsa, oklahoma! the oddity of life!!
there is never a time when i doubt that he loves me. there is never a time when he doesn't give me that.. 'you can do it, fae' or 'i believe in you'. he paints me waterfalls in an endless sky and gives me moments where i can forget about work and life and rent and bills and i can be the girl with braids who likes to do cartwheels and make funny faces. i see the world through the eyes of a child and he never puts me down for that.
rant . . i honestly don't understand why there is soo much negativity and hatred in this country. it makes me mad that bush isn't making any humansense. history keeps repeating itself and this country never learns to just leave somethings alone. simplicity seems to be tossed out the window and bloodmoney and excess is the american way. i am so sensitive to it. i cant help it. i do not watch the news or read the papers anymore since i cannot handle the constant state of the regurgitated union. . end of rant.
back to the man i love... he tells me that i have a big heart, that i am beautiful and loved, and that we will make the world better even if it is baking poppyseed muffins and giving them to a complete stranger. we are not complacent. just poppyseed pirates on the rough american strait to canada. there is a folksong in that somewhere.. hmmm..
i always wanted someone to love me just for me being me and have it be enough... i can not verbalise how incredible that concept feels when it is a reality.


growing older . .while searching for some photographs to place in this entry, i noticed how young i look in these pictures. i feel that i have aged here so much. the dry weather, the homesickness, the constant stress from my job, i now look the age i am.
more reasons to move back to the west coast!!

i am lusting for more. i am thirsty and i want a new life with my husband. i am looking into going to school for holistic nutruition and naturopathy. eco-psychology has me interested as well. its that whole nature deficit disorder thing.. all in all, i need a new path where i feel that i am making a difference and that i am living the life i was meant to live. this path here was to find adam. now that we are together.. it's off to make movies and heal the world, one soul at a time.... or something like that.

sleep beckons..
i'll leave you with this last thought from a great mind...

"the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."
- kerouac, "on the road"

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

. the think .

the think.
to think.
think - ing?

think .. i do too often.
the oddities of the think. the continual process of the neurological firings. perhaps i am at war with my own self. or trying out for the debate team.

and to think.
i do it all the time.

think you know someone.... try yourself.
i bet you think you know that person. do you think that they know you? or is this a relationship that goes without thinking?

and to think ... i do it all the time.