Thursday, November 04, 2004
The more the ills and evils of myself are accepted into the arms of someone who loves me, the more those ills creep away, find a way out. volleying for acceptance, shouting for an ear to hear, I am me. And when someone looks, says yes, you are you. These small voices are silent in celebration. They quietly move on.
I finished my fourth test of the week a few minutes ago. My nose was dripping into cheap institutional toilet paper as my mind flipped through the roladex of Origins, Insertions, and Actions of back and arm muscles. These muscles are all here on me, and yet I am struggling to recall where and what and how. Who am I? Finding words tell the story of my body. Flexor Carpi Radialis Longus. Pronator Teres. The lateral supracondylar ridge of the humerus. ha. ha. Over now, my head is cloudy, dense with sick. I didn't want to get out of bed. I am here. Here at school for five more hours now. It is an eleven hour day for me. I got a hair cut yesterday at school, just a trim. The point is: school is becoming me.
My housemates have kept me and Michael awake with their heady political banter these past few nights. Are they empowering themselves. Holding hands and singing could be more enriching. and vibrationally sound. so to speak.
I realized yesterday in a moment of mundane discovery that the word "chai" is "chair" minus the "r". What does it all mean. When I was younger I was more of a toilet bowl philosopher than I am these days. I spent a lot of time tracing the connections between homophones and homonymes and even less directly related words. The pair "Fork" and "Fuck" always provided an intriguing and endless game. Four letter words, both starting with F and ending with K. Forks penetrate. This also happens in the act of sexual intercourse. The list goes on. Toilet bowl philosphy.
Phlegm02@hotmail.com, this ones for you. sick kisses and snotty shoulder hugs. I love you.
Okay...well, I am disclosing silly information out of boredom and the need to decompress. It's kindo flike being on the phone with person A and carrying on a conversation with person B. I am going to see my way out of it.
Blessings to you all.
Namaste.
I finished my fourth test of the week a few minutes ago. My nose was dripping into cheap institutional toilet paper as my mind flipped through the roladex of Origins, Insertions, and Actions of back and arm muscles. These muscles are all here on me, and yet I am struggling to recall where and what and how. Who am I? Finding words tell the story of my body. Flexor Carpi Radialis Longus. Pronator Teres. The lateral supracondylar ridge of the humerus. ha. ha. Over now, my head is cloudy, dense with sick. I didn't want to get out of bed. I am here. Here at school for five more hours now. It is an eleven hour day for me. I got a hair cut yesterday at school, just a trim. The point is: school is becoming me.
My housemates have kept me and Michael awake with their heady political banter these past few nights. Are they empowering themselves. Holding hands and singing could be more enriching. and vibrationally sound. so to speak.
I realized yesterday in a moment of mundane discovery that the word "chai" is "chair" minus the "r". What does it all mean. When I was younger I was more of a toilet bowl philosopher than I am these days. I spent a lot of time tracing the connections between homophones and homonymes and even less directly related words. The pair "Fork" and "Fuck" always provided an intriguing and endless game. Four letter words, both starting with F and ending with K. Forks penetrate. This also happens in the act of sexual intercourse. The list goes on. Toilet bowl philosphy.
Phlegm02@hotmail.com, this ones for you. sick kisses and snotty shoulder hugs. I love you.
Okay...well, I am disclosing silly information out of boredom and the need to decompress. It's kindo flike being on the phone with person A and carrying on a conversation with person B. I am going to see my way out of it.
Blessings to you all.
Namaste.
Monday, November 01, 2004
Snowy branches this morning...yay.
The whole family in the living room. Purple hat is Aaron, then Katie (guest), me, Regan, Noah, Laura (pumpkin artist and guest), Michael, Jenna, and Sean (Jenna's guest...oooh).
The pumpkin, it's a pun. It also reminds us of the anatomical similarity between the anus and the lips.
Mmm...the roaring fire in the living room. toasty feet.
Oop, there they are. Hey and that's Aaron in the back with the blue face. And Claire with the silver shimmer top.
Saturday night, at Carrie's. That's carrie in the yellow suit with her surrounding superheo girlfriends. That's Katie the Protector behind me in the blue and red. Thanks for covering up my breasts, Mike.
Oh, all the pretty party people. me and Courtenay as Shiatsu Barsie or a Geisha at the bottom, Darcy the Mermaid and her Bumble Bee boyfriend and two other folks I don't know.
We got it together at the last minute: Michael as the Cosmic Element, Jenna as a medieval priestess or Athena, me as Massage Barbie. Go team!
I have been told that one cannot catch a housefly with an abrupt sideswiping gesture of the hand. Rather, to draw the palm of the hand slowly downward upon the fly is the surer method. The fly cannot perceive the attack, has no trigger to resist. If she is ignorant of being stalked, she has no reason to flee. The black fly, dressed iridescent in aerial lace, sits contentedly in the shadow of the human hand. She expectorates, digests, cleans herself. Perhaps she wonders why humans are so single-minded. A thousand visionary frames versus one. But perhaps her vision lacks depth and the hand comes down closer, down. When it finally strikes, the fly has no route of escape, closed hand cupped around her little body. Bruised, twisted, broken. She can no longer fly or even walk on all six of her delicate appendages. Not yet acknowledging defeat, she kicks with slow effort as if she were trapped in a spider's web. The silky strands spindling around her body. She is caught. Death is the web and the human hand the weaver. Boredom is the hungry belly to be fed. The physical body looking to contract its fine muscles to exercise its acute sense of coordination. The active mind training itself, testing itself. For an end that the human mind has still not woven into the web. What is it? Does one tiny fatally wounded and struggling fly move the predator closer to his answer. She is still now. Is this little body in my hand knowledge. Am I this fly, am I the hand that killed it. perhaps. and maybe in this philosophical turn of events I am justified. She is my guru now, my Jesus who died so that I may learn a lesson about self, about spirit, about the vast space of one tiny fly. About the landscape of my own soul, infinite and intelligent. atman is brahman. I am the fly.
In a projection the fly is my ego, stilled by a technically adept and measured hand. A hand much bigger than my own, much greater even than my entire body. From my perspective as the fly, the hand looks to be a thousand different hands, each with the same lesson. You will die now, you will unknowingly surrender. And once you've surrendered you will know. There is a struggle, but the passing over is already complete. The bluntness and obvious intention of the swatting hand changes the dynamic entirely. The ego resists. Instinct says, I will not die. I will live. I will fly from you or fight you and fill myself up with myself so that you cannot take my life away. When you try to kill my ego with a swat, I will run to save it. The ego is a tricky prey, one you must lure and seduce, one that must be studied and yoked into submission, and in a final moment taken, or given away.
Friday night I dressed up as Massage Barbie. My friend and classmate Lord-Ahli invited all of the folks at school to a Halloween party at his housing co-op. The character was easy to play and fun. I got some catty looks from some women and some I really connected with. The men were more ready to play along. By the end of the night I had given three hand massages and a shoulder rub. As Massage Barbie, I carried my lubrication holster with me the whole evening. Avocado and Carrot Oil. It was wonderful to connect with people from school outside of the context of class or between classes. Check out costumes, chat, dance. I spun fire at the party along with a couple of other people, tried a new move, it worked out. The cops came at around two to break things up for some silly reason and it was good timing as I was a sleepy barbie by that time.
Saturday was another party night, this time at Mosaic, which is a dance studio with a lot of space in town. I dressed up at Carrie's house beforehand, this time as a lady bug, with red and black spotted pants on, a set of wings and a red wig. There are pictures, but once we arrived at the party, the costume layer was soon shed. The wig fell off, the pants split down the back, and the wings were in the way. So I ended up in my little black shorts-underwear with some glow sticks on strings wedged in between the fabric and my hips. I danced hard, just exactly how I wanted to, all night until 3:30 in the morning. My housemates all eventually showed up and stripped down to less than they had on when they arrived and we all danced together, and the guys were vigilant of us women as we rolled around on the floor together. It was wonderful to feel so safe while being so exposed. Interesting was how open women were to a real naked body that night and how closed they were the night before to a fully clothed but sexy made up character. I got to dance with Michael a lot, which was great. He is so open to moving his body and to being in the moment with me, with the music. And he had a scarf as part of his costume that we got to play with on the dance floor. Hot. Of course, when I wasn't dancing with people, I was spinning things around. I made up this pair of poi from a piece of cord and two glow in the dark balls. I spun them for a long long time. So much fun to spin to loud electronic music. And when people see balls flying through the air, they give you space to dance. There were some creepies watching, too, but Michael took care of a lot of them by dancing with them himself. My great protector in yellow snow pants, a blue wig, and technicolored lei.
I feel blessed.
Sunday morning. Halloween and the clocks fell back. Six out of seven housemates went to breakfast supreme at Burnt Toast, this nook and window wooden tables and earthy brick environment. The food was excellent, the wait was long, the conversation good. Afterwards we played silly people who are too comfortable with ourselves to be understood in public. We climbed the walls and the tree and stretched and played on and around one another for a half an hour before Michael and I went to study and the others went to nap in the park.
Studying was an experience in itself. I was brought to face the emotional patterns that arise for me when studying. Michael didn't like my distance and selfish study habits. I realized later on in college I rarely studied with someone else. Everyone was always so weighed down with their own obligations and various assignments that there was no time, energy, or even care to study with someone else. The introverted, hectic, on edge vibration was expected and integral. Yesterday it was not necessary and yet I put it on because it felt comfortable. Thank you Michael for reminding me to give away what is not useful. Tonight we will be studying muscles and bony landmarks together and laughing. I am humbling myself.
Last night it snowed for the first time this season at our house. more than four inches and a little wet. very white and beautiful. Snow fell during our house dinner. We gave thanks on Halloween and ate together, ten of us, housemates and guests on the living room floor. Lovely. It is so beautiful to witness one another giving thanks, speaking up becoming vulnerable, testing to see how much of themselves they can unveil and still feel safe. Aho.
Through my window on the second floor, sunrise and bare branches heavy with snow, furry like a buck's antlers. Majestic and powerful. silent. full of a strange and familiar energy. My feet crunched snow on the way to the car. boots on. I live here in this wonderland. I took a picture in celebration. our first snow. so beautiful. also: snowboarding.
School passed by. I passed the test. I passed by the boxing gym and stopped to check it out. bags or all kinds and no one using them. too expensive for my means now, but it was fun to hit a speed bag for a few minutes.
It is time to get going and do those things I do. eat, study, practice firedancing, snuggle.
blessings to all.
In a projection the fly is my ego, stilled by a technically adept and measured hand. A hand much bigger than my own, much greater even than my entire body. From my perspective as the fly, the hand looks to be a thousand different hands, each with the same lesson. You will die now, you will unknowingly surrender. And once you've surrendered you will know. There is a struggle, but the passing over is already complete. The bluntness and obvious intention of the swatting hand changes the dynamic entirely. The ego resists. Instinct says, I will not die. I will live. I will fly from you or fight you and fill myself up with myself so that you cannot take my life away. When you try to kill my ego with a swat, I will run to save it. The ego is a tricky prey, one you must lure and seduce, one that must be studied and yoked into submission, and in a final moment taken, or given away.
Friday night I dressed up as Massage Barbie. My friend and classmate Lord-Ahli invited all of the folks at school to a Halloween party at his housing co-op. The character was easy to play and fun. I got some catty looks from some women and some I really connected with. The men were more ready to play along. By the end of the night I had given three hand massages and a shoulder rub. As Massage Barbie, I carried my lubrication holster with me the whole evening. Avocado and Carrot Oil. It was wonderful to connect with people from school outside of the context of class or between classes. Check out costumes, chat, dance. I spun fire at the party along with a couple of other people, tried a new move, it worked out. The cops came at around two to break things up for some silly reason and it was good timing as I was a sleepy barbie by that time.
Saturday was another party night, this time at Mosaic, which is a dance studio with a lot of space in town. I dressed up at Carrie's house beforehand, this time as a lady bug, with red and black spotted pants on, a set of wings and a red wig. There are pictures, but once we arrived at the party, the costume layer was soon shed. The wig fell off, the pants split down the back, and the wings were in the way. So I ended up in my little black shorts-underwear with some glow sticks on strings wedged in between the fabric and my hips. I danced hard, just exactly how I wanted to, all night until 3:30 in the morning. My housemates all eventually showed up and stripped down to less than they had on when they arrived and we all danced together, and the guys were vigilant of us women as we rolled around on the floor together. It was wonderful to feel so safe while being so exposed. Interesting was how open women were to a real naked body that night and how closed they were the night before to a fully clothed but sexy made up character. I got to dance with Michael a lot, which was great. He is so open to moving his body and to being in the moment with me, with the music. And he had a scarf as part of his costume that we got to play with on the dance floor. Hot. Of course, when I wasn't dancing with people, I was spinning things around. I made up this pair of poi from a piece of cord and two glow in the dark balls. I spun them for a long long time. So much fun to spin to loud electronic music. And when people see balls flying through the air, they give you space to dance. There were some creepies watching, too, but Michael took care of a lot of them by dancing with them himself. My great protector in yellow snow pants, a blue wig, and technicolored lei.
I feel blessed.
Sunday morning. Halloween and the clocks fell back. Six out of seven housemates went to breakfast supreme at Burnt Toast, this nook and window wooden tables and earthy brick environment. The food was excellent, the wait was long, the conversation good. Afterwards we played silly people who are too comfortable with ourselves to be understood in public. We climbed the walls and the tree and stretched and played on and around one another for a half an hour before Michael and I went to study and the others went to nap in the park.
Studying was an experience in itself. I was brought to face the emotional patterns that arise for me when studying. Michael didn't like my distance and selfish study habits. I realized later on in college I rarely studied with someone else. Everyone was always so weighed down with their own obligations and various assignments that there was no time, energy, or even care to study with someone else. The introverted, hectic, on edge vibration was expected and integral. Yesterday it was not necessary and yet I put it on because it felt comfortable. Thank you Michael for reminding me to give away what is not useful. Tonight we will be studying muscles and bony landmarks together and laughing. I am humbling myself.
Last night it snowed for the first time this season at our house. more than four inches and a little wet. very white and beautiful. Snow fell during our house dinner. We gave thanks on Halloween and ate together, ten of us, housemates and guests on the living room floor. Lovely. It is so beautiful to witness one another giving thanks, speaking up becoming vulnerable, testing to see how much of themselves they can unveil and still feel safe. Aho.
Through my window on the second floor, sunrise and bare branches heavy with snow, furry like a buck's antlers. Majestic and powerful. silent. full of a strange and familiar energy. My feet crunched snow on the way to the car. boots on. I live here in this wonderland. I took a picture in celebration. our first snow. so beautiful. also: snowboarding.
School passed by. I passed the test. I passed by the boxing gym and stopped to check it out. bags or all kinds and no one using them. too expensive for my means now, but it was fun to hit a speed bag for a few minutes.
It is time to get going and do those things I do. eat, study, practice firedancing, snuggle.
blessings to all.
