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When I first left the country and lived in England I’d always say "In America…" referring to Indiana… coz it was the only America I knew… my many years of traveling after that, much in the USA, when talking about the world I knew of Indiana I would frequently mistakenly say "In America"… my mother picked me up and said we were eating at Trader’s Point… I was excited: there is a creamery by that name started by some Dutch people near where I grew up: gorgeous and organic food. but my family thinks it’s too expensive… she was referring to a strip mall that was a field ten years ago. my options were in there: Chillies. Long Horn. Abuelo’s.
I chose Ted’s Montana Grill because it looked like it might have some individual character. I was shocked to be greeted by two black servers (when I lived here it seemed entirely segregated) and our server was ridiculously stoned. i asked him if I got the flag coz he thought I was a Muslim terrorist… but I ordered a Bison burger, specialty of the house, the variety: Vermejo: the name of Ted’s ranch in MT… and the sweet potato fries weren’t on the menu: I’m a special request kinda guy. making the best of what I got here: In America…

(I’m just reporting this cox I typed it out in the comments on Facebook… & this is the non-HDR image)

.iP

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(people often ask me why I live in New York)

I
just had a revelation
though it may be false
brain addled mess of a sleep deprived mind

but I was thinking about London
-those who are tired of London are tired of Living!

I was thinking of living
in a strange new cottage in Berkeley
round the corner from a supermarket in California
riding my bike to the BART station (the seats aren’t as filthy on this one)
I was thinking of having a little life
doing my little job, eating my little meal
missing my little kid and wife
(I’m just being referential)

I realize I live in NYC because it’s the whole world
it’s not trying to be somewhere specific
fuck that
it’s trying to be everything
everywhere
all

I can deal with being in the forest
I like being Nowhere
it’s having to shop at Walmart that reminds me I’m Somewhere
and that Somewhere is a place with little taste and huge blindspots, large unemployments, boredoms, abuses and exploitations
in NYC that’s an entirely Of Course!
but it doesn’t matter
coz it’s not happening somewhere else where we can forget about it
it’s all happening right here
all around us

these are my current illusions

and more lyrics:
"Life is precious
Every Minute
and more Precious
With You
In It"

"Somewhere
maybe someday
maybe somewhere far away…"

"you might have been a headache
but you never were a bore!
Thanks for the memory"

.iP

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Ah
that pit of sorrows

it’s so easy to let time pass
to get caught up in our simple addictions

stare at the sun set

oh, you can’t see the western horizon from here
but look to the north
see that orange on the mountains?
the clouds in the valley
such beauty

the hawks circling over them
two
fifty… a hundred feet… between them
how far?
what are they saying?
they are god
it’s me
it’s we
we’re all here together
just one
making the mountains to reflect the sun on
to make valleys for the clouds to slink through
to make a hill for a man to watch
us flying

what are we saying?
i want to know the truth
the whole truth
but i get beauty
i don’t get understanding
in my mind… in my mind…
but not in my body
not through
not yet

but i get beauty.

and
the memories…

i was telling someone about a tempting situation i had with someone in my life
someone i’ve known my whole life (yes, important enough to share and to conceal)
it’s rare that i do not explore temptations
and this man, in my hands, i imagined having sex with him
not because i wanted to
but because i know i’m good at it
and so many men
like him
i’ve known so many years
that i have no basis for communication at all
nothing in ideal or content we can share
but i could give him pleasure
without words
there
we could be together
really together
not like all these stumbling conversations we’ve ever tried to have…

tempting
but no
i wasn’t willing to pay the price of all that unleashed pain
i already know that style of loving

but here’s the point
it’s the way i get along
it’s the way i’ve always had
it’s my gift
i touch people and i connect with them
i can do the things i want to do
in the way i do them
but without words
they can feel the loving
my words are too sharp
are they sharp in writing?
i imagine they are all cloudy in writing
i don’t know, i never read my writing (hardly ever)
is it like walking through a forest? in the fog?
just like reading some kid’s journal entries who’s forgotten how to write in sentences?
yeah..
anyway
i have always had a huge disconnect with people in general
and have been an acutely lonely person most of my life
fortunately i’m gregarious
but i didn’t know that until i was nearly 20
my sorrowful years are still heavy in my heart

i’m often ok with that
and these last few weeks i’ve shifted into a different mode
being a bit selfish
probably not yet enough
and
unfortunately
i became so only after i was drowning a bit
so i did it in a reactionary way

can’t i ever get it right first time?

it kills me to think i’ve wasted any time with him

a little death every day…

i was staring at his altar
as he sang his song to jesus
and me
i was imagining
some conversation
when i wore his habit
ten years from now
and told some body about where i got a real franciscan robe from

how will i describe him in ten years to a stranger?

friend? lover? father?

the weight of sadness. . .
sadness of death and loss

loss of my friend
loss of my beautiful view
loss of the only way i know how to connect with someone

but not enough.

i was talking with this 66 year old
an astrological leo
so awesome sex with him
create connect there
but of course i knew his aura was too fucking shiny
a man who can’t take criticism
and i couldn’t help but pour it out
oh, just a little, just a little
he’s good with it, he’s learned from dealing with his long time partner
he’s stoned all the time
but there he is
and he’s telling me
as we’re driving up or down
he’s telling me about how good it is that i came up to be here with Leo
says “well, it makes it better… it helps.. i guess. doesn’t matter, coz we all die alone anyway. ”
and in the days since then i’ve realized it
it is good i’m here
but he’s so alone with me
just as i am with him
coz i can’t appreciate his politics
his God, his vestments
i can barely appreciate his food

where is his wife? who loves everything about him?

i look as his body
and love to touch it
when i hug him
lingering for a moment

this fat old man
filled with cancer
all through and through
and all his heavy food
throwing caution to the wind about plastic and aluminum
and anything else
why worry? why bother?
the kids these days
i remember joking, seriously, to him years ago:
don’t buy me that shit. it’s the cheapest. which means everything in it is dead and eating it makes me feel dead. puts the dead right in me and i don’t like feeling dead inside. that shit will give you cancer.
ha. cancer through and through.
and anyone . . .
well
love that body
the fat and old and achey
suffering
love it
and appreciate so little about the man inside

you know
you know this song too
‘do we ever really love anyone? are we ever really loved?’

but i do want to kiss him, to smell him and hold him
i want to help
but what is helping?

after dinner
and phone calls
and pop corn
south park and 6ft under
i remembered something i’d found yesterday on someone’s facebook wall
who? dunno
but a song sung by Bob Hope: i never knew he was a singer… just remember his comedy…
so sentimental
but then
all this pickling in emotions is tenderizing me
and listening to him sing, vibrating in my bones…
did he cry the first night i went in there?
how come i never did before?
but…
i wanted to show it to him this video
and put my hand on his head and felt him
and it was sentimental
and there i am, crying at movies about my life
what’s that for?
i’m starving to touch things with my hands
real things
joyful things…
but
ah
all this sadness
and the birds circling
and the future reaching back to the past through the present

Thanks, for the memories…

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I feel all terrible
sitting
wanting to be ready to write about it
but I can’t crystalize any beauty
I’m instantly lonely up here

what’s loneliness?
being with someone who is forcefully denying themselves

washing dishes
while listening to Leo talk with his German friends
feeling their emotions in the air
I realized that every night
when Leo becomes monstrous with politics
he’s just doing it so he doesn’t have to talk about dying
his fear of dying
by expressing his feeling of hopelessness about the fate of the world
he is talking about himself

oh yes
of course
take some salvia
and feel it
all
is
one

the failing economy is my failure
the corrupt government is my failure
the death of nature is my fault
but yes
I know

how else does one die?

give up on healing
on any hope

but, god
I miss frivolity

how do we die?
if we don’t die every minute of our lives
if we put it off
we get a few weeks
or months
or years
of acute suffering

that is the pay back of hedonism

he is a good host
but every meal is
eating too much
an entire prime rib
between four people
it was over five pounds!

I have been over eating for over a month
every meal is Too Much
and then desert
he’s getting fatter!
is that a mark of health?
or over indulgence…?

I’ve been feeling heavy and bloated
distended
the food is great
and greater still
I’m yearning for small fine meals after hours of yoga and walking with the boys at figleaf

the loneliness feeling here is so acute
and being in the city was strange
just as out of time
not really wanting sex or love
but friends
the cute/funny/smart bear I saw two nights in a row had many real friends
and shared his life with them

the greatest connections i had down there was with the hippies
teaching them mudras
and giving bodywork
while they talked unceasingly about tetrahedrons…

maybe I wasn’t receiving
it’s certainly not uncommon for me to give more than I get
imaging it has to be done simultaneously
which is
of course
not how it happens

so
ok
I’m here
I’m not quiet
of course
nit even now
I’m staring into the fire
listening to it crackle
talking to myself
to hear what I’m thinking
making sense of this sinking feeling

I want to fast a few days
empty out
sleep a lot
be focused and present

what?

sleep
rest
listen…

.iP

“creativity is not valued in China because everything in their culture was expressed 1000 years ago”

-read on a caption at the Henri Cartier-Bresson exhibit

was that an actual belief in the communist time of china or a misunderstanding?

.iP

so…
i’ve managed to get $2000 in debt in the time i’ve been out here
no income + ridiculous spending i hadn’t anticipated to set up a second home
Yes, i’ve moved in here. i feel like i’m living here again.
the shock and mourning are over, now i’m living here
pens in drawers, books on shelves, clothes nicely folded
still getting bills from NYC and no massage clients up here
no regular clients
no yoga class

and i’m fucking going nuts
it’s really easy to point fingers
i remember when i first arrived in CA
the kids at Heartwood were really into NLP
which is all about being very aware of each word used
knowing the hidden intentions behind our vocabulary
most people are always saying “you know, when you get really tired and you get all flustered…”
instead of saying “when i get really tired”
it’s a simple matter of embarrassment, i think
i’m really into embarrassment these days
i hung out with a guy who talked non-stop for two days recently
i’m really lonely up here
and need someone to vent with
but dude gave me not a breath of space
so when he dropped me off at the house
i layed it out for him
that he complained about his life in minute details
and every attempt i made to change topics
or even talk about myself
he co-opted for his own rants

this is not unique behaviour
but not to be sought after either
when i told him, nicely, he wasn’t really hurt
he was just really embarrassed
and said so

i talked with a friend about Dying recently
and he described what it was like for his mom
how she held on
and constantly was trying to look Together
much as Leo is doing
he’s freaking out that he’s getting tired so quickly
can’t remember things properly
he blows up
and says “you” about everything
even though he’s talking about himself
he’s just not able to say it

and he’s shouting
and he’s irritable

i went to the hot springs today
only the third time since i’ve been here
first time on my own
and when i got back he was so angry and tired and upset that i was so relaxed and happy
and set about to piss me off
once he did
he was fine
and started trying to talk to me like a human
at that point i told him to shut the fuck up and go downstairs

of course i’m feeling abused
doing tons of work for him he takes for granted
but
ahhhh, that’s all i’m doing here
and i’m happy to do it
but the constant bitching is driving me nuts
similarly
if he’s not bitching about his own decline
he’s bitching about how the world is coming to an end
which any kid can talk about
but when an old man does it
he says it as if he knew the world when it was better
with a definitive air of truth and condemnation
no one can do it better than a preacher
and after hearing it for over a month (and ten years) i’m fucking fed up with it

we can all look at the world and focus on the rot, decay and abuse
but tunneling on that ignores all the beauty and triumph and even silly pretty things that makes struggling through the shit worth it
looking at either just one side is asinine

sorry, this is just a vent
i’ve been laying in the dark for and hour and a half and can’t sleep.

my brain is trying to figure out how i can make money
and get him to appreciate me a little

do i scream at him?
i can’t beat him… he’s sick, ya know
but i can leave him alone for two nights a week, right?
and those two nights i could line up massage clients
— but i don’t have a car and know no one in the area i could ask to shuttle me to somewhere i could do that in
and where would i stay?
details
running circles round my brain…

then there is my life
disorganized mess it may be…
but the one where i am trying to figure out the shape of my art
and the locks that are keeping me from freely creating
and the path i should walk to grow into a fully functioning adult being
and where… in the city or the country or Another Country?

and what i have
who can i give it to?

i know it’s not just the money
i’m very aware that i’m starving for touch
sounds funny
but i am isolated up here
and in NYC i’m constantly touching people (massage)
and constantly having sex
neither are a lover
but they are both supplemental

so this isolation puts me back in the desperation for a Partner
as i know it does to so many
(that poor guy who couldn’t stop talking… so familiar a scene for me here in CA… people meet me and so desperately want me to be their partner they push me away with their raw need)
and i imagine the lover i want
i’m angry at fat old sick men right now
fuck you dad
fuck you bears
fuck you
but i am not sexually turned on to boys
so the corpse, i am not sure what i want there
but i want a man who pets me
massages me
brushes my hair
enjoys fasting, hiking, walking, singing, potions, magic
physical
a man?
i don’t know
i don’t know
i don’t want a fucking pet
nor do i want to be kept
but
love
i really need some fucking love
without even having vessels around to pour my love into
there is none flowing through me

but i am here
i am here til Leo dies
OR
til i get all of his work done
all the boxes emptied
thrown away
recycled
sold off
or donated

once everything is in its right place
if he’s still alive
then i’ll leave and come back when he’s sick again
the work can only take a few months at this rate
he can’t work long hours
coz he tires quickly
there is little i can do on my own
because i know little of what the stuff is…
that’s the point.

but i’d love to sit with him and talk about what this process of dying is
this divesting with the notion of release of this realm entire
i know that his idea of after-life is absorbing back into God
he isn’t concerned with heaven or that whole malarkey
but…
what the fuck is death like?
what is life like?
imagine it’s a door
it’s a fucking tunnel with a light at the end of it
you can see the light!
LOOK AT THE FUCKING LIGHT
it’s right there
and it’s ready when you are
but you gotta do it
you have to do everything
so if you’re gonna go
let’s shit
and get off the pot
and get going!

how do i talk with him about that?
i don’t even know if i have the words…
i’ve just downloaded the Tibetan book of the dead
maybe that will help
i dunno

i’m just being patient
i’m sitting
i’m letting him lead the way
i’m his fucking lamb
fucking audience member
i’m good at that
that’s what i’ve been to many of my lovers
(fuck that)

yes, i’m praying that his death kills all my horribly unsatisfying relationships
i know
i shouldn’t ask anything for myself from the power of his death
so i’m asking it from me
from what i’m doing and understanding here

i’m angry at myself that i’m so attached to such a bad lover
but i’ve thought all my lovers were bad lovers
(all of them except you, my dear: you know who i’m talking to)

i’m angry, Pitseleh
what the fuck am i supposed to do?
no rest for the wicked
guess i should be doing yoga
bastard.

So,
it is important to try this
to check this
see if i can type like this
away from the mouse>>>
will that make a difference?
big problem: i cannot read it.
sizing it to to the window
the ruler on top is just short of Seven
the keyboard in my lap
feet up
this may be perfect
nothing to get distracted by
sitting back
in the chair like this

Tell me: how do you feel?

i feel OK.
not so bad…
i mean
this last week
two weeks?
since i first smoked pot?
or was…
well, i’ve felt pretty terrible since i got here
but it’s been an evolution
of course
the first few days i was here i already felt angry with Leo
and that only lasted a few days
then i just loved him for a few weeks
my heart was so filled with sadness
maybe i was just in my heart
feeling everything…
but no, it was before the marijuana i was angry with him again
the trip down
the first trip down
i’ve been pretty angry with him since then
the marijuana helped me just be honest in my body with it

ideally
i would like the patience to just let him ramble on about how much he hates the world
how disappointed in it he is
how glad he is to leave it
go back to God
what do i expect?
by being angry with him he’ll see the error of his ways and repent?
They have already made their choice: they worship the next world, not this.
i belong to a different cult, me and Allen Ginsberg
we’re here
we’re suffering it
we’re loving it
hoping beyond reason there is a way to get past the impossible
to heal the unhealable

what has my mind been doing lately?
i sat back and thought of…
it passed through my eyes like a conversation
while walking on the road
in the rain
all the people
in suburban homes
or in these white trash shacks
or in double wides
or wheelies
i think of the people of America
it’s hard for me to ever accept that they’re not fully conscious of every action they make
and every consequence

while Misha was talking with me
on the corner of the deck there
outside the chapel
i had that Acid type feeling
(goddess elk)
with full clarity that
– he was a bubble of earth. i was. we were. pushed through the fabric of reality
animate and together
some agreement
every being
every story
every catastrophe and fear
we have brought it here
everything beautiful
my hands open and cold in the beautiful winter air

of course
how come i never realized that solstices and equinoxes were the MIDDLE of the seasons? what ever made it make sense they were the beginnings?
does all of our Study abstract us from the apparent?

do we all forget
or are most of us mere champagne bubbles?
beer?
soda pop?

i remember thinking earlier this year
or last year
or yesterday
about how i was done with Leo
how he was condemning himself to death
and i had to accept that
and be fine with it
i gave my reasons why it was good
and how i was absolutely fine with letting go of it
i had my two weeks of mourning when i arrived
all my clinging
now i’m back to just being in it
and again
i just think the only thing good for him to do is let go at this point:
i don’t hear how he likes being here
i only hear how it hurts him.

it’s true
to live
we have to decide to live
we have to decide that with each breath
every moment

it makes sense to know that life is good
we are here only as we can be
it is only what it is now
the best we can do is remember that we are loved by it
as we love ourselves
all of it
and though we have no idea what is coming next
to have faith in our own love
to endure the experience
and keep walking

he told me my main work here is to identify this feeling of being stuck
do i really want to be at a party?
am i really enjoying living in that big populated city?
i do like
i do need…

the constant interaction
the watching, listening
the desiring of desiring
the moving of movement
the learning of teaching
and how

but here
in this silence
i would like to learn stillness
and not stuckness
i would like to remember
and beyond, what i never got as a kid
how to just breathe
and that one breath
catching every missed one
that night’s sleep
resting every avoided dream
to read, understand, remember every book
to sit, feel, communicate every thought, story
with full anger, appreciation, and love

that’s all i want
to be a singer
another satellite speaker
mouth of the unsayable
heart of the unlovable
truth of the unknowable

in my dream last night
i left my lover, my charge…
we went to visit his friend
who would not reveal himself to us
presenting himself behind a gigantic puppet of a pumpkin
i excused myself to use the restroom
knowing it was around back, through the hall
but i walked around the block instead
on the corner, an odd intersection
old deco building housing public restrooms
frosted glass, green metal
(this was Kreutzberg or The Village)
i pushed open the men
and it had just been rehabbed
reopened
a large foyer
beautiful stairs down
to a huge open space
gender separated
a wall of new hip fashion
hand-screened shirts
some hand painted
hats, paintings on canvas
and the other wall
huge old tile terrace cascades of warm water
boys naked
sauna/baths/steamroom
public rest room
i stayed till it closed
claiming some hand-made books from the glass cases
a few t-shirts
and a special edition shirt in a vintage ammo box
did i bring any money with me?
some other people were opening one of the ammo boxes
what does the shirt look like?
i heard them saying something about how it’s all the newest artificial fibers
which put me off
the shirts were long and baggy but thick, like apron versions of vivian westward punk shirts, the paint was thick and rubbery and overbearing
$160 for the shirt
ah…

they were closing the doors
night at come
everyone was supposed to have left
there was a fashion show starting in the hallway, now open, between the men’s and women’s side
which was also an art gallery
industrial green tile

sitting next to a wooden bookshelf is Catherine Keener
writing in a journal
but in the dream she is Katrin Cartlidge
maybe she’s playing her…
but she’s her
and she’s crying
and writing in a lined notebook (muji)
the show is starting
the crowd has gathered
i can’t find the stuff i was going to buy
i don’t have any money anyway
and the shop is closed
and it’s night?
where did i leave my friend?
do i know where to meet him?

it’s 5:36 am
and i’ve woken up in a motel room next to man i met at a bar in SF
a man i found attractive
and he decided to drive up here and get a room to spend a night with me
why?
i hadn’t given a massage in over a month:
Leo isn’t liking being touched for the most part
just barely
and doesn’t seem to enjoy massage from me
or cuddling…
and as i wrap my arms around his man
i feel his life
the tension in his back
all of his pain and worry
and it flows through me
and i feel it in my body
and i know what to do with it
i know how to take it
to channel it
to flow it through and out
and when we’re laying on the bed
i’m laying on him
his chest hairs tickling my nose
locking in with my beard
and i can feel all the sadness
the tension
the worry
flowing out of me
into him
ease
calmness
and he says, later
“i guess that’s the great irony of your life
that the men you seek to be your father
to take care of you and give you comfort and love
you end up being the care taker for, and comfort them”
i suppose
i remember what i always used to say:
if you know what you need and can’t seem to find it
start giving it to everyone around you
soon you’ll be surrounded by what you need
and you’ll be nourished…

i don’t want anything specifically anymore
i want everything

of course
of course

the difficulty of being in integrity
with the great disparity of being. . .

if it’s simple
let yourself be loved
let it be simple
let yourself beloved
there is plenty
a million moments for complication
tomorrow will
“tomorrow will not be too late”

“i will take the sun in my mouth
and leap
into the air
alive
with closed eyes
to dash my
heart
against
the sleeping curves
of my body

i will enter
smooth
mastery”
(“i will wade out
till my thighs are steeped
in burning
flowers”)

i don’t know what are the proper gifts to give anyone
i hardly know what is good for me

but this rock is beautiful
and this burl
amazing
useful?
i don’t know.

the radiation from this wand:
healing?
what if it will poison us?
let’s decide it’s a Yin Wand
all their bullshit science talk
razed to Yin
Zero
the infinite possibility of Zero
of the Mother
of Yin

i told him, last night, of my
what
dark trial?
my saturn return
i guess
was that the biggest challenge?
(or the final breaking of my heart? final for that life…)
that i was sick
and found out
and got sicker
and laying in the dark
on the bed
on the floor
the rooves open around me
i asked for help
and from the darkness came Rasputin
an infinitely dark beast
with claws
and red ember eyes
come to eat my soul
terrifying and true
and i said to him
‘why be so scary? i know you are god coming to heal me… i need my soul devoured and you have come to eat me… do i have to pretend to be scared? can i just be grateful’
and i was and slept well that night
what did Crowley say?
those who have will still have
those who have not
will have everything taken from them
more than they can even imagine
was that it?
how are we ever supposed to be whole with these clothes on?
did i talk about clothes?
Last Night?
did i say
the unsayable
dressed up
the invisible man
useless to the viewer
unless you put clothes on him
but the clothes are never him
ya never see the truth
see the unseeable
all about that
last night
i knew
i know
i have to take it all off
every last hair
again?
let myself be eaten
burned
devoured
annihilated
dad’s favorite love
and what is eaten is perfection
and what is left is perfection
simplified

here you are
mirror of understanding
stay with me tonight
and always
today
in all ways
stay with me
in love

i have to sit back and listen to some music
something familiar
but i turn on New Order.
the first song of their’s that ever settled in my head/heart
“regret”
but it’s a half hour before i return to my blank page

it seems like years since i’ve been able to type at a computer
and it mostly is
i’m trying to ease back into it
i somehow lost the ability
getting far too distracted by anything in the 10,000 windows
39 of the 40 nights gone wasted

i was brushing my teeth and thought:
“i’m settled in here
this is what it is
i know it
and i am set to endure it
but i am not experiencing any joy about anything at this point
everything feels like a heavy foot lifting
tired
up hill
in the snow
all that shit

i’m here to help
not to say there is nothing to do
like every moment in my adult life
there is far too much to do
stifling my head
shallowing my breath
a moment of apprehension
then spending the rest of my days trying to catch up to that lost breath

the reason
to say The
well…
a reason i stopped traveling
stopped traveling
got some shoes of my own
my name on a lease
keys to my own room

days to set my own pace
find my own steps
and have my own life

in every man i ever met
like the one i was born into
i crashed into their lives
completely Other
but with nothing to show for it
an no name to come
i have just been at odds
stuck in the middle of Their reality
their friends
their truths
their reality
of which i have a completely different understanding than they do
no connection to
and no task in
but to be ridiculed for living in their world incorrectly
(yes, i know, i know)
to be offended by their day to day
and to offend them whenever i make pronouncements about my experience
then feel bruised that the door of love is closing between us…

oh, i gave that up
along with the rest of the world
to satisfy my waning patience
but here i am again
with an invisible death card
held awkwardly
perhaps behind his back
impossible to forget
but not in play right now
still
it keeps me here
and with good reason

but that’s clear to me as well
as i’ve been able to see so many other relationships in my life
that once i learned the magic of Compassion
i was locked in a simmering pot
how many times has this happened
feeling like i’m being treated like shit
but i completely understand
the strain they are under is just sparking off at me
and no matter how much pain they inadvertently cause me
communicating that to them will not help the situation at all
just make it worse
in giving them more stress
in their already over-blown situation

so here’s me
getting stomped on

so venting

but i’m tired of this now
distracted
why i never write anything anymore at the desk
how am i going to surpass that?
be in the present
experience just what is
what is what is
just want to be present to what’s happening
and enjoy it
eat it
drink it
nourish it with my being
and be nourished with it

ave i been so damaged by the computer i can no longer focus on anything longer than a few minutes?
how do i undo that?
where is the healing for that?

there are so many books i want to read
so many movies i’d like to watch
too many moments of shadows moving over a sunny field
too many ideas to flesh out. write. arrange.
too many moments of yoga and meditation and
presence
i need…

i need gratitude

hm.
i’ll get back to you on that one.

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so maybe I’ll go to bed
early for me

we had a few flickers this evening
after watching S01E04 of 6ft Under and the Chinpokomon episode of Southpark
Leo decided to go to sleep
half way down the stairs the lights flickered a few more times and went out…
for the night, I imagine

living in the city so long (…) I’ve forgotten the capricious nature of electricity in the county

what a grateful respite for an electricity addict like myself
(as I tap hungrily at this little screen… hours til it goes dark of course… but I won’t drink it dry tonight…)

I brushed my teeth by candle light
then went out on the deck
to gaze over the valley
everything still covered with snow
the clouds fast and thin now
the moon
reflecting the sun in its soft blue spectrum
reflected in the fluffy ice
on all the trees and all the ground

today is the first storm of winter
blew the tender clinging browning leaves from their branches

I’ve been cooking butter all day
and smoking St Bea’s Bread
making me more embodied in my emotions
bringing out my Kapha and Vata, ya
(with drawl for me flares my Pita)

today I’ve been here a Month
the moon is full again
today I have thought of all of my friends
wishing to be with them
doing yoga
smoking
talking
hiking around
massaging eachother
cooking for eachother
eating together
photographing
playing music
dancing

all of you
I love you
I am grateful
forgive my crazy judgements of all of us
and know I’m aiming at being the most amazing creature it is possible for me to be

…
ummm
someone left a comment about Stoneflies on my flickr
I looked it up today
mmmmm
Plecopetera
"braided wings"
commonly known as StonerFlies
they are very simple
primitive
often found in fossils
develop in water
one species is the only insect that lives it’s entire life in water
most just spend the majority of their lives as nymphs in water
four years or so
eventually maturing to adulthood
where they become terrestrial
… though they are famous for their wings
they aren’t very good fliers
and once they break the surface
as adults
they live only a few days to a couple of weeks

I have patience
it will all find its way in time
no need to rush it

good night

.iP

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when you’re born
the shock of arriving
is enough to throw many into a stupor
getting your bearings can take some time
for some
it’s a matter of learning the language they are born into
for others
it’s learning to pilot the body
to speak all the things one is already aware of knowing

but piloting the body isn’t as simple as just steering the tongue
sometimes it’s how to use the entire technology

let’s imagine you die right now
(what’s "die" mean?)
your consciousness is unchanged
you died in an instant
(mmm, car crash? heart attack? aneurism…? or did you just close your eyes and slip out of your life)
you open you’re eyes and you’re
hanging up-side-down
covered in blood
gasping for air

unless you remember how to pilot a baby
(from when you were a baby… remember?)

even if you remembered English after switching brains
(op, gotta even install the operating system… as best as you can remember it… and how compatible it is with your new hardware…)
how long would it take to train your tongue to make those shapes?
build the muscles up to make complete sentences…

but even if your remember English
and all that
you’re born in south America
do you think by the time you understood the language and learned to speak it
while learning how to pilot a new body and strengthen it to a useable vessel
would you, by then, remember who you are?
you’d have changed by then anyway
and it would probably take plenty of time before you were able to look at yourself in that other life and how it integrates and harmonizes with what you’ve done in this one
or what you’re doing
if you’re able to reach back in the present tense

in the dark surrounded by fluid

.iP