cake and such.

why is it that it always comes to you two? i am angry. why? shouldn't time account for anything? you preached one way all our lives...preached- maybe that's where you went wrong. nobody talks about it to you. why would we? sitting at a table in an italian restaurant- you are 80% of the conversation, yet nobody tells you this. there is no point in looking into your eyes and twisting them around until the blood covers up a life you think you are living...like you did to us. remember that? i promise you we won't do that to you. we know better. we are better. was it for the money? was it for conformity? settling....did that cross your mind? help me understand how my relationships end, and i cannot even start to feel my own loss, because you are in the forefront of my mind. am i blaming you like a child would? yes. an adult should know better, right? an adult should realize that people change, everything is temporary, "things happen for a reason"....now, i throw up. i throw up cliches of what the therapists say. give me a fucking break- you lied. you both lied. constantly. and now, because it's your birthday, i will swallow all of my feelings and spit out streamers and cake. for christmas, i will make sure you are happier than me, because nothing says "im healed" like a new sweater. stop. seriously, stop pretending. for once, stop citing AA slogans and quotes from jesus christ. jesus christ. just be real. who the fuck are you two? i would like to know. sincerely.


and so...
when she looked at her that one night, a flood arose. black water. grey. red dust. this time, it was much clearer- easily deciphered than past experiences. no. it is done now. she sat smiling, though, looking straight into her eyes, knowing that in the past it took years to pick up on, and now, in an instant, she could see it. i felt it. the guilt, followed by anger and sadness. she knew immediately that such a cruelty could not be justified...and so...she smiled. she smiled for her ability to recognize and love herself for once. but, i love you. i didn't think i did, but i honestly do. i love you purely. her road is just leading in a different direction, and that is okay. can we try and go in peace though? i promise you i will try. you are so beautiful.
and when...


remember when you yelled at me about the wedding cake? i get that it was symbolic of your loss, but you were hurting me. you didn't care to see how scared and hurt i was. i drove away that night so afraid of the monster you turned into. lifetime movies flashed before my eyes. how am i actually witnessing this? did you ever wonder where i drove to? did you care? did you ever ask? no. you didn't. he was waiting for me outside when i returned. i went to our church. did you know that?

remember when you yelled at me on the drive back from college one year? you said, "he's not good enough for you!" i wasn't really talking about him. at all. in fact, i just wanted to listen to the radio to be honest. you kept on him as if you knew more than i did. do you know what i was thinking? why are you doing this to her? why are you mad at yourself? what have you done?

and so...

your laughter.

today, i just felt like sharing one of my favorite poems by neruda. he is, without a doubt, a "torch-bearer" so to speak- one of the most influential poets to turn the tragedies he witnessed in his country into art. he was revolutionary. beyond his poetry, a statement he made has always stuck with me (as in i remember it impacted me, but had to google that shit- cause, um...i definitely cannot remember the word 'unassailable'...or can i? hmmm- quiz me when you see me). upon receiving the nobel prize for literature, neruda commented on his journey: "there is no unassailable solitude. all roads lead to the same point: to the communication of who we are. and we must travel across lonely and rugged terrain, through isolation and solitude, to reach the magic zone where we can dance an awkward dance." a poet so engaged in politics, a leader of freedom for his country, a passionate artist- still....still. still stressed the significance of silence and isolation. how can we consciously leave our footprint in the world unless we know fully each wrinkle, freckle, callous, and size of our own foot? maybe we have to check in every now and then to see if new bruises, hairs, or warts have formed. perhaps we need to check in again to cut our toe nails- or just one- or go into the doctor for an embarrassing, but necessary removal of some sort. slice. blood. bandage. healed. nevertheless, check in. never stop checking in with yourself, learning who you are, what you want, where you are going- otherwise you won't be able to distinguish your own footprint from ones you follow, or worse, ones who have chosen to walk beside you.


your laughter

deprive me of bread, if you want,
deprive me of air, but
don't deprive me of your laughter.

don't deprive me of the rose,
the spear you shed the grains with,
the water splashing
swiftly in your joy,
the sudden silver wave
born in you.

my struggle is painful. as i return
with my eyes sometimes tired
from watching
the unchanging earth,
your laughter enters
and raises to heaven
in search of me,
to open
all the doors of life.

my loved one, in the darkest hour,
unsheath your laughter,
and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the cobblestones,
laugh, for your laughter
will be for my hands
like an unsullied sword.

near the sea in autumn,
your laughter must rise
in its cascade of foam,
and in spring, my love,
i want your laughter
to be like the flower i anticipated,
the blue flower, the rose
of my resonant homeland.

laugh at the night,
all the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at the clumsy
young man who loves you.
yet when i open my eyes
and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for i would die.

Voyage.

She sat across from a man for the first time- not her father, finding ways to not accept
She couldn’t.
Anxiety and anger were not present, shocking to her inner child, whom she had been burying into her chest, wrapped in a Light Blue blanket, protecting the infant from the damaging heat for the last few years.
She accepted and moved forward with the engagement
Stories unfolded, laughter took precedence- and all the Past somehow
Turned from a twisted, dismal Confusion, to a tunnel of light- moving quickly, growing brighter.

She sat across from a woman for the first time- not her mother, finding ways to not accept
She couldn’t.
With salty tears nowhere on the horizon, she felt compelled to quickly
Judge herself. As she always did. Did she lose her heart? Could she not feel anymore?
A voyage that once brought on hurricanes and damage has led her to arrive safely.

Crawling slowly onto a shore on all fours, battered from strong winds, but now standing stronger
Black and White images flashing from past to present where she stood- a series of battles
I am here, and I am feeling- uncomfortably feeling the happiness of this life without regression.
Why? She knows why. And she stands with her arms out, pointed to the Light Blue sky, Laughing. Laughing at the journey. Laughing at the beauty. Laughing at her Trust that for some reason never left her.

"you'll know."

sometimes the best way to describe how i feel is through a song. i know i haven't been writing much. i think i have a lot to say, but am trying to find the time and inspiration to actually write it out. for now, i think i am in reflection mode- from a short, but significant trip back home to tennessee, to realizing what i thought i wanted was not the case, to being truly happy, to a moment in time of genuine comfort and connection i thought i wouldn't feel again.

i went to see jonsi (part of sigur ros) the other night in nyc. i cannot even put into words how powerful the concert was for me. the music itself is incredible, but the musicians were simply brilliant- switching instruments, physically feeling their language as they played. the visualization on stage and on the backdrop told stories throughout the show, making you feel like you were on another world- a sort of out of body experience. if you get to see him live, go go go. here are two songs that really touch me both musically and lyrically.

tuesday music find.

good afternoon, friends. i might be a little behind in jumping on The xx bandwagon, but i'm glad i did. check them out, and see what you think for yourself!

day to day.

these are some of my daily indulgences at the moment, and, for now, they are all highly recommended to all.

1. thursday plantation's tea tree australian chewing sticks (i'm proud to say i have turned friends and co-workers into toothpick junkies). you can pick these little boogers up at your nearest health food store. these birchwood toothpicks are 'impregnated' (says the box...which i like and think is funny....cause i'm a twelve year old) with tea tree oil and other natural extracts. i'd say i'm up to a pack every couple of weeks. i'll cut back...when i'm ready.

2. andrew bird's noble beast album (check playlist below to hear just a little sampling of this goodness). you can buy the album on his website here, if you are inclined to do so. my mornings have consisted of coffee in hand, tea tree australian chewing stick (only $3.99 a pack!) dangling in mouth (like a true southerner), and mister bird's anonanimal blasting in my car.

3. meetings. i have been making more of an effort to get to meetings, such as nyack's village hall planning board meetings, book discussions at the library, and other groups that support a common interest. i find that even if i am not in the mood for the small talk with random people i don't know, i always walk away learning something about my community, literature, or myself.

4. double espresso. anyone who wants to buy me an espresso machine is highly encouraged. i just like to think i'm doing my part by stimulating the economy. i'm such a great citizen!

5. writing pretend scripts for 30 Rock and SNL in my head....and then laughing to myself because i think they are hilarious....god, i'm such a loser. yes, this is, unfortunately, a daily activity. (i wonder if this has something to do with not having cable).

6. lighting a candle. (if you are like me when it comes to relaxing, also check out AuraCacia brand aromatherapy....this isn't a daily ritual, but i had to share the wealth).

7. reading at night- either a novel, the new yorker, or the paper. no matter what, a poem is the last thing i read before sleep....the best ones are from people in your life.

8. laughing.

magic gardens are like oatmeal on a cold day.

so, i was roaming the south street neighborhood of philadelphia with some friends this past weekend, and i thankfully stumbled upon one of the best displays of community beautification i have ever laid eyes on. i have always been obsessed with cities, landscapes, architecture, and the integration of art within communities. so in my own little world, i was standing there as indiana jones would upon his latest find. no, i am not being dramatic. i'm just weird. it's the simple things. philadelphia's magic gardens is a folk art environment and gallery space that shows the brilliant mosaic work of mr. isaiah zagar. i encourage you to read more about his devotion to the south street neighborhood on the website. essentially, zagar began revitalizing the area in the 60's, with the help of his wife, by creating an indoor gallery and gigantic outdoor labyrinthine from objects (bottles, bicycles, umbrellas, mirrors, mom's pearls, grandpa's dentures- not really...well, maybe, i don't know...but you get the point) and recycled material found on the streets of the neighborhood. there are tributes, and tours, and tunnels, and grottos galore! unfortunately, i only got to spend a few moments staring through the gates, eyes wide open, and jaw dropped....m-e-s-m-e-r-i-z-e-d. like all enticing treats, this artwork left me wanting more. i cannot wait to go back and explore!