Sunday, October 25, 2009

Remember the sun when it hides away

There is peace in letting go of the burdens that bog down the soul. An electric shiver of energy tingling in the muscles as it invigorates the currents flowing through the veins and capillaries that feed the body. Good morning! Awaken your soul and feel this new life energy, this chi that has broken from the wrinkled shell it hid inside, waiting for you to let your guard down and welcome it. It needs no coaxing, it only awaits your release and opened arms.
Can you feel the warmth of the sun's rays casually poking your winter-paled skin- is this something else you forgot how to feel and embrace? You've been cooped up in a dark, drafty room by the tears of the sky and howling chills of January's monster, and on this day of sun and warmth, do you find yourself eager and zealous to jump into a tank top or sundress or run naked in the lawn? But it is only October, and you remember that those days are separated from today by the promise of holiday cheer and wintry dreer. And so, as you sit in the dark cave lit by patchy sunlight, remember that you will be here for months to come, hibernating like the sun, and while the sun is still out for a little bit of the day, stake your claim on the lawn so you might remember the warmth it brings during the coming months of shivers and wheezing sky.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Take a sad song and make it better

In the times where that is absolutely essential to do, it is also the most difficult. There is nothing left for me to do, it's in another's hands, and what could happen may tell a tragic story, but tragedy is not always avoidable and is sometimes necessary.

I put some bread in the toaster oven earlier and left it too long. The bread, of course, was covered in black, but most still looked edible. I began to scrape at the black part and found it flaked off like dust and left a perfectly good piece of toast, buttered it, and ate it. It was crunchy but still yummy.

So even when it looks as though something is unrepairable, the burnt part can be scraped off. Of course, it's not always that easy, especially when if the toast burns til its a hockey puck, but nonetheless, it made me smile when i thought about it.

I ask that anyone who reads this please keep a family member of mine in your thoughts or prayers or send good vibes their way, whichever path you choose. I know it's not going to be a pretty next few weeks, but even the darkest, steepest side of the mountain is warmed by the sun, thanks to the earth's orbit.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

All their colors paint a story you could never tell in words

Try to read the smile of the girl in the corner
Her eyes so far a part
They don't seem to know her
She floats above the trees
Her hair curls in the breeze
And you ask her
Why don't you have any knees?

Try to read the gaze of the girl by the window
Puffs a cigarette
From a face that's a shadow
She stands alone and fair
No clean clothes to wear
And you ask her
Why don't you have any hair?

Try to read the shrug of the boy in the middle
Holds a magic wand
His hair is getting brittle
He seems to understand
He must become a man
And you ask him
Why don't you have any hands?

And when their spirits met they knew there was something
Greater than this world
made out of nothing
They see the beauty in
Bodies connecting
And they ask you
Why don't you have any veins?
Why don't you have any eyes?
Why don't you have any ears?
Why don't you have any heart?

Saturday, September 5, 2009

From mind to body

Took a walk today to ease my mind
Had a destination that I thought I'd try
My skin was kissed by the sunshine
I felt the warmth it brought was not unkind

The roads were busy but the tree-lined streets
Welcomed friends to walk beneath
And on a corner a marketplace
Bearing gifts of the organic taste

I found some echinacea planting seeds
And some things for a tasty treat
As I headed home, I found a friend
And forgot the place I'd meant to end

I find less meaning living in my head
I'm moving to the beat of another tread
The world beckons my dancing feet
I take a walk now as a treat

Thursday, September 3, 2009

A fresh start

My house is on a busy one-way street. I sit on the front porch, any time of day, and serenade the passers-by on their way to class or Fry St. My music and the music blaring through open windows of cars mingle in the air for brief synapses. We constructed a clothesline in our living room because the dryers at the laundromat wouldn't dry our clothes. I didn't realize before how colorful our wardrobes are. Of course, all my tie dye shirts don't help. Today, I helped a lady coax her cat out from under a car while it was raining.

I've dropped and added at least 5 different classes, unable to make up my mind, and bought the textbooks for all of them only to have no use of them. My boss told me yesterday that tomorrow is my last day at my job, they can't work around my class schedule. I found out today that I'll have a total of 40 hours of volunteering required this semester. An interesting swap- more work for free less work for money. But who needs money anyway? I'm glad it worked out this way, my mindset'll get a much needed energy boost.

I'm making a list of trees that I want to climb on campus and around Denton. I found two so far. And I have all the materials to make a swing for one of the trees in front of our house, I just need to drill holes in the board and put it all together. And I've been thinking about my garden. Since there are no areas in the backyard that get consistently good sunlight all day, I've thought of putting plants in pots of sorts so I can move them around with the sun! And then when I move, or go anywere, I can bring them with me :)

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Beach, mountain, forest, field

Longview, TX, roughly 10 am, a week ago, we embarked on a drive, circular in shape when traced on a map, that would not come to a complete stop for 7 days. Our dear friend Meg waved goodbye from her log cabin porch, her smiling face to exist only in our memories until another, separate road trip brought us together again.

We encountered sunny, marshmallow filled skies, except the patchy violent southern thunderstorms in Louisiana and Florida. We spoiled a stranger's scavenger hunt picture of shoppers at a voodoo store in New Orleans by lifting our shirts and revealing our titties and bellybuttons. I dove unclothed into the cold, salty, playful ocean sang to the gulls and fish while Taylor ran through skittish flocks on the shore. We shared the beach with no one, the closest fishermen were far enough off to notice only the tugging of their lines. We visited my grandmother briefly, and I serenaded my grandfather's ashes with my guitar in the mausoleum behind their Catholic church.

We drove through the night with no certain destination, only a direction, and crabbiness and angst in the absence of sleep. An old man in a Hardee's fast food joint pointed us in the direction of a campground. The fog on the road at 5 am in North Carolina, so thick it reflects the glare of headlights back into your eyes, turned a shade of royal blue just before the sun rose. We found ourselves suddenly behind a range of green mountains peeking out of the blue fog as we turned a sharp curve in the road, and the sun also peeked from the horizon. We found the campsite and woke up at noon to find we were in a National Forest brimming with waterfalls- a natural water slide, nature trails and breathtaking views from 6,000 ft elevations above the clouds. We stumbled into paradise.

We wound through scenic mountain roads for three days, from the Pisgah National Forest to the Great Smoky Mountains, which turned out to be a huge tourist destination. I hopped atop boulders in the rivers in the park, and listened to the river's laughter, screams, and whispers. It told me to cross it- dared me, really- and I did. I used the current to push me towards rocks I could grab onto and pulled myself up, cutoffs and tshirt drenched. A woman in a tie dye shirt and a young boy waved and smiled at me from the bridge above. And I crossed again. Lesson: Go with the flow. Listen to it, and let it help you cross the rocky rapids you face.

The stretch of road from Tennessee to Arkansas wound through tree and ivy covered hill- whole fields of trees covered in ivy, grass covered in ivy. Craving for destination, cigarettes, and food dampened our moods, but the hugs and smiles that welcomed us in Batesville drove away any remnant of frowns and grumbles. Our souls were alive, awakened. I climbed around inside a pipe organ while Taylor serenaded "Let it Be" and "Mother's Day". And we spend the day with music and love, wishing we all lived in one place we never had to leave.

We dove from the car as soon as the engine was cut off and kissed the pavement of the driveway at 4 am yesterday. Our shoulders are sore from all the out-of-state license plates. We never want to get in a car again. We want cigarettes, sleep. We piss outside of locked hotels and spray pink silly string to keep smiles on our weary faces.

Good trip, brother :)

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

July, July! It never seemed so strange...

Hello, July, old friend! You always sneak up on me before I'm quite ready. It's only when you radiate your heat from every surface open to summer sun rays that I realize you're here.

I've forgotten to do a lot of things I meant to. Vegetable garden... oops. Guitar strap... oops. Doorknob... oops. But it's best not to burn out on stuff to do, right? All in good time, I'll get done the things I want to. I'm at least happy to say I managed to make it to my cousin's bar mitzvah in New York, even though my boss didn't give me the time off until two days before my flight. Unfortunately, I couldn't hem or haw my way out of working this weekend so I could make it to Rainbow Gathering. *crosses fingers the world doesn't end before next year's* But I am intending to put in my two weeks pretty soon so I'll have all of august to roam the Eastern countryside. Florida... Smokey Mountains in Tennessee... maybe? All in good time :)

My backyard appears to be infested with fleas, mosquitos, and poison ivy. However, I discovered a place to climb on the flat part of the carport roof, and huzzah! My haven! And restless feet are pointing Northeast lately, after the afore mentioned New York trip. I'd forgotten the beloved warmth of family, and am beginning to wish I lived closer. All in good time. I may find myself wandering after graduation. Pick an agency and ask to be a rover. I'm sure someone needs a good utility social worker :)

The absence of close friends and the heavy weight of summer classes and work gives me much time to myself. Sometimes that's a good thing... but mostly I just think too much. But even this will pass soon.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009


I am a commitment-phobic young adult. The idea of settling down in any fashion is quite unsettling with me. And so, I've made a lifelong commitment, the only one that does not terrify me with the idea of closing doors. I'm ripping all the doors down. 

I'm making a commitment to myself. I want to be able to sustain myself, not monetarily, but with my own knowledge. I want to be able to change my own oil and fix my own car and then not rely on it. I want to grow my own food and then turn it into sustenance. I want to learn how to provide my own medical care, from healing to birthing to maintaining good health. And most importantly, I want to share it all. 

I'm committing to not backing out, and finding a way through all obstacles to uphold my promises, and therefore, not making promises I may not be able to keep. Even if money or other commitments stand in the way, I will find the way to still come through in the end. 

I'm committing to confronting. I don't want to let problems or issues pass me by, I want to tackle them head on and leave nothing unsaid, misunderstood, or unclear. 

These things I can do. I cannot commit to concrete, material things, or to time, but I can commit to a mindset and a lifestyle, both of which I believe will remain in a constant state of becoming.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Nine Things to do in 2009

1. Go on a well-researched road trip to places in the US I’ve never been to. Any suggestions or companions are welcome :]

2. Read more good books. Stuff about philosophy, other cultures, religion, whatever will expand my understanding, mind, and credibility.

3. Research fuel economic cars and figure out what to do with my not-so-efficient car.

4. Reach out to my mom and brother and figure out how to help them understand each other and get along better

5. Delve deeper into guitar: learn how to recognize chords, notes, key, all by ear, and learn scales and more difficult chords.

6. Find time to volunteer regularly.

7. Ride some really freaky roller coasters and really get over that fear.

8.  Go to a new festival. Rainbow Gathering may not be possible, but one like it, or Bonnaroo, or Burningman.

9. Learn Spanish, without a classroom.

2008: A Year of Becoming

Each month this year, I have created a playlist with the songs were trappeda in my head or best described the phase I was in at the time. Since it is the end of the year, I compiled a sort of 'Best of' playlist. 

1. Do you realize??- The Flaming Lips

2. Bodysnatchers- Radiohead

3. Promises in the Dark- Pat Benatar

4. Don't stop believing- Journey

5. Silver Lining- Rilo Kiley

6. Don't stop me now- Queen

7. Peaceful, easy feeling- The Eagles

8. Wonderwall- Oasis

9. Real world- Matchbox Twenty

10. Fireworks- Animal Collective

11. Don't think twice it's all right- Bob Dylan

12. What I got- Sublime

13. Two of us- The Beatles

14. Desecration smile- Red Hot Chili Peppers

15. I'll believe you when- Matchbox Twenty

16. I'll make a man out of you- Mulan (heh..heh.. I babysat all summer)

17. Bohemian like you- The Dandy Warhols

18. Fool in the rain- Led Zeppelin

19. Getting better- The Beatles

20. Bittersweet symphony- The Verve

21. Sweet girl- Fleetwood Mac

22. Fire and rain- James Taylor

23. Third week in Chelsea- Jefferson Airplane

24. Ten things- Paul Baribeau

25. In the mausoleum- Beirut

26. Dreams- Fleetwood Mac

27. Brother Sport- Animal Collective

This past semester, I feel like I've pushed through another vagina into a brand new world. Essentially, that's what college is. Suddenly, you're forced out of this comfortable place where everything is provided for you without you really needing to do anything but grow and there's this endless expanse of brightness and strange people and stuff you have no idea what to do with this new world. 

I cut the umbilical cord when I permanently moved into my own apartment, but I didn't realize that I not only detached myself from a home, but everything that was a part of it. I woke up one day and realized I'd somehow slipped out of one world and into another, and I'd left behind people and ideas and bits of myself. There was a period of panic and overwhelming "oh shit... who am I.. where am I.. what am I doing??" and when I finally pulled out of it, I held hands with my fears and transformed them into friends instead of foes. I did it completely on my own. I found myself for the first time without people pushing me and supporting me. And I watched others around me go through the same thing.

I understand all the things my mother used to tell me all the time. Stuff like... "Let go, and if it was meant to be yours, it will come back to you" or "The friends you make in college are friends for life" or "Sometimes you have to do what you don't want to do, because it pleases God and makes you a better person". Watching people I knew in high school transform and bust through a second theoretical vagina, into a bright new world, has fused unbreakable bonds of understanding that I can only hope are mutual. 

I will always have a special, unconditional love for the people who were close to my heart in my troubled high school days, though I recognize the different paths we have separated upon. I was always the weird one, and that was embraced by my inner circle, but I now feel it's turned awry and outcasted. I have progressed within my former longings and innermost desires and my self has expanded, which makes me even more eccentric, weird, and misfitting amongst my high school crowd. As part of my growth, I have erased nearly all judgment and expectation of others to become increasingly more accepting and open-hearted, but that leaves me to their judgment, a heavy gaze I'd rather not walk under. I don't feel unwelcome, but I don't fit in anymore. I've grown accustomed to a family of people who watch out for each other and don't hold feelings of pettiness, judgment, or compensation. We are so unified by an underlying sense of community, love, and simple understanding that returning to a world where it is not so is difficult. 

Being on my own is probably the most difficult thing I've had to come to terms with. The detachment from old close friends was paired with having to accept the fact that two more would be leaving in a year. On my trip to Austin for ACL this fall, shitty cell reception cause me to lose contact with the friends I came with and met up with and I had to fend for myself, on one occasion without any money, water, or food, and I did okay. I managed. I made a great time for myself. It wasn't as bad a thing as I'd always expected it to be. As the semester continued on after that, I pulled myself out of a pit of irresponsibility, found the best job I've ever had as well as my calling in life, and everything fell into place. 

I figured out who I am and who I am not. I don't know where I'm going, but I know what I love. I'm going to do what I love, love what I do, and hold the people I love close to my heart. I've found a balance, I've figured out how to control myself for the first time in my entire life, and I'm not afraid to be afraid.