TURNING THIRTY: An Anthem...

* I want to live a life that appreciates the darkness as well as the light, the hurt as well as the healing, the rejoicing & creativity as well as the mourning & drought, the raptures of both anger & love, the dryness & the rain, the humiliation & the elevation; I want to live vibrantly, singing & when the end comes, go down singing just as joyously through it all. I want to celebrate the most quintessential balance of all things & the swaying between polarities that is the motion that is life.

* I am determined to climb mountains, walk along & swim in rivers, sing & dance while walking down the street while people stare in fear & curiosity-- not so they'll stare, but to express my overflowing happiness & wonderment at being able to still be in this wonderful, incredible world (and invite them to join me, whenever they are ready).

* I do not want to live a life that revolves around the computer or my phone anymore. I never have.

* I do not want to forgo or stifle myself & my life, needs, wants & desires, altering them to other people's......unless it is out of the purest, kindest intent that feeds an integral part of me or gives me the utmost pleasure & growth to do so.

* I want to experience & complete everything that I have dreamed & that anyone has EVER told me was impossible, exceeding even my own highest expectations of myself (which have always been the highest).

* I no longer wish to apologize for myself. ANY part of me or the way I choose to live my life, which is best for me. INSTEAD, I want to celebrate & honor every part of me I hate & have spent time trying to cut out of me & crush & hide to make those around me feel comfortable, trying to take my SELF & force it into any & every possible shape but my own.

* I want to EAT, DRINK & BE MERRY; sing loudly & dance, dance, my God, dance! (And anyone is welcome to join me).

* I want to fade into the whole world, to find humility; to give back to it; to become part of it. I want to stand out in the world to help shape it, to give back to it what I have to give, to find new roads, new meanings & new love for everyone & everything, everywhere.

* I want to embrace the constant movement & change of everything in the world, including myself, that means we are ALIVE.

* I want to turn 60 & still be climbing trees, eating ice cream, drinking sweet things, laughing & enjoying my friends, telling elaborate, outlandish stories, reading books, going for long walks, being surprised by tiny things growing & the way music makes me feel & the color of the sky, staring at the stars, swinging high on swings, singing, dancing & offering my hand to anyone who needs friendship, council, listening or holding, when they do & feeling more myself & better for it-- including myself. As I do now & as I wish to do now.

* I want to eat slowly, think clearly, listen carefully, love deeply, let go fully (when I am ready), laugh a lot (especially at myself) & smile often. And forgive.

* I want to practice the art of all things which bring me happiness. And find mastery in them. I want to walk with my feet planted firmly on the ground & breathe in the sky. I want to speak in Shakespeare & poetry & foreign sounds, because this is the eloquence I am made of.

* Above all things, I want to live. I want to live in the world I live in-- the one I was born into in my mind, my body & myself, because, my God....it is beautiful here. And I have neglected it in the favor of fear far too many times, for far too long.

Another Winter Morning

It's been so long since I've written. So long.

And so many times my fingers have delicately, hesitantly reached for the keyboard, only to shy away with a, "not important," or a "you have too much else to be done," subtly snaking it's way in between.

But, in the end, I write when I always write: when in desperation & when I have no one to talk to. Now, 'no one to talk to' is a lie. A blatant fallacy. I have, most especially at this point in my life, many very good & kind & lovely friends & people whom I can talk to. In fact, I have been talking to them non-stop for weeks now, sounding thoughts, fears, ideas truths & opinions in an almost constant stream of babble & emotion. To all of them.

And yet...

I have 'no one to talk to.' Because, no matter how much I talk, the talk doesn't cease; it doesn't resolve. Because I feel helplessly trapped by my own motions forward & I am doing nothing to stop myself.

I ask you: What is home?

A place where you rest your head; the city or town you work in; where your friends & family live. 

 ..."Home is the place people send your letters to."

I have written in the past addressing the fact that I have never felt as though I had a home. This has not changed much, although I felt closer a few times over the past 2 years, in different places. At the moment, I am in the town I 'grew up' in...only for a few years when I was a very small child...and yet, this town is my earliest & only memories of a 'home.' 

Coming here as an adult, I thought it would be much different. I thought I would be stifled; suffocated by the smallness of the town, by family, by a lack of freedom; a lack of escape.

I was so, incredibly wrong.

The things I have found here, in this town, I cannot even begin to count...the surprises, the people the beauty...and most of all, the pieces of myself I am cultivating & uncovering while here...are beautiful & immeasurable.

And. On Sunday afternoon...I leave.

...WHY? 

I have a job. A great job. Multiple jobs. MANY opportunities...in the ONE place I never want to move back to. NEVER. I have no reason to be there. It's a JOB. They are JOBS...And yet, I'm going. I reached out here, afraid there was no work to be had: that my excuse for leaving would simply be, "AH, well I have no money & I have to go where the work is." But in the last week, I have had two calls about interviewing for positions in the area....money. Work. HERE. 

And, for some unreasonable fear that I cannot quite articulate, I have not called them back. I say it's because I do not want to betray the people who have already hired me & need someone now...I say that, but it's a lie. In my core, at this moment, I am filled with such feelings & terrors, I could care less about any of that. I want to be selfish.

I'm saying these new possibilities are not good enough positions. That they would not supply me with the training & the cash that I want. But that is not true, either. I do not even KNOW what they are offering. I have not checked.

I know that I'm going & I know that it is forward motion I am generating myself, but I cannot fathom why. 

I have never  lived in a place for any stretch of my life, when I was not already planning my escape before the boxes were unpacked. None.

Until now.

I have no need to leave here. Not yet at any rate.

I do nothing but fall more in love with this place & it's people every day.

It's a place that could, eventually, afford me the opportunities to go on adventures & still have a home to come back to. A place to escape to not from.

...A home.

So WHY on earth am I uprooting (it feels like being ripped from the ground) at this particular moment & pushing myself into a city that feels to me like going into a dark room? A place of memories of despair, but more a place that doesn't not in any integral way feel like a part of my future? It goes against every motion in my body, most of my thoughts & all of my feelings? WHY am I going?! Now? Or ever?

It feels wrong. So...why?

Why? But forward I go...

And what frightens me, almost more, or saddens me desperately is that this place-- this tiny town in the trees that I have for one more, sweet day as my 'home'-- truly feels like HOME. Now. And if I stay, I truly believe it could for a long time (or even forever). 

But while my friends all say, 'You can always come back if you want, later,' once you leave, you are not the same. Nor is any one or any thing in any place. Change occurs: that is the only thing that is certain & steady.

...The truth is, you can never go back. Only on.

And this moving, this is not the truth nor the future I want. Yet...here I go.
God help me. (If I will not help myself...but maybe I am & I just cannot see it right now).

Variations on a Theme

I read in a book, some time ago, that when we are longing & hoping for an ‘other half’ to complete us; a love to break down all walls & last for all time…that what we are truly looking for is ourselves.

This thought stuck with me, though I was not sure why. The knowledge that some ‘other’ could not complete you made perfect sense to me. That would suggest something lacking in yourself. But even that idea re-affirmed, in a way, the idea of a search for self, for the ‘other part of you.’ So, in essence, we would still be looking for us.

Yesterday, for what reason I am unsure, I was quite suddenly illumined with a pattern in my love life I had hitherto been completely unaware of. My list of gentleman callers (or others), as it were (namely anyone I have had an intimate connection with—which is not to say it was always carnal) runs as follows…

1.)   The artist.

2.)   The dancer.

3.)   The scientific genius (and avid creator of stories & worlds).

4.)   The actor & master of archaic martial arts & weaponry.

5.)   The writer.

And as of recently…

6.)   The musician.

Do you see a theme? I do.

Actually, I see the one that you probably don’t, because I live in my body. It really truly hit me in the face: with every one I have loved, wanted & ached for in one way or another, I have been longing & aching for myself; to nourish a fundamental part of ME—who I am & who I long to be. The artist, the dancer, the scientific genius, the creator of worlds & stories, the actor, the master of fighting arts & horses & weaponry, the adventurer, the writer & even the musician. ME.

It only stands to reason that none of them could ever fulfill me or match me or satisfy me; why I would continually long for more, beg for more, tell them to leave, even when I wished for them to stay. No wonder I was so, so incredibly unhappy-- always searching for some secret thought or word that would rekindle magic in my veins. What I wanted was to be what I loved in them, not simply love them for it. Every one of them. With all of me. I wanted them closer & closer but could never be satisfied…Of course I could not be. Because what I wanted was not them. I wanted their love & adoration, yes, and their attention. I wanted to give them all of mine & all myself as well. And I did love. I did. But underneath that, what I wanted was who they were. 

             .....All this time, I have indeed been searching for me.  (How strange. I didn’t know).

Though some part of me must have known.

In light of all this, I know now what to do. Become…who I am. That is all I can do. Who I want to be; who I wish to be; adventure & living; cultivate myself & find what is within me & pursue it with ALL of me.

What is hard… is that most days the other sex…people in general…no longer hold the same desire for me: you, no matter who you are, no matter how fascinating or how I wish to know you…you cannot be more interesting (are no longer more interesting) than my books…my room…quiet time with myself to meditate or pursue all these amazing things I wish to take in in my little life & which drive me mad with the wild lust for every new subject & piece: the finding & birthing & training & creating & living…of myself. Me.

A strange kind of selfishness… (hmh). 

And, yet... 

I still long for the spark that kindles & burns between two people. Within all this, I still long to connect with people, in many capacities... All of them I can. I love them—all of them; I am fueled by them, these connections & the act of basking in & making a deep sort of love with the whole outside world…but I have little patience now for small talk or these little dances that most seem to entertain, that step around the direct & honest truth; these things we call courtesy & common. And I am growing tired of the same 3 conversations that everyone seems to have with one another. Can’t we just jump right in at the middle of things…?

…And I find if I connect too deeply with anyone for more than a moment, I am in danger of losing sight of myself again & all the brilliant life & things I am up to now. I still want.

It occurs to me, also, then…if we are secretly searching for ourselves when we are seeking a partner or match, and that other half is the us we need to find or make or recognize within ourselves…when we have recognized & fulfilled ourselves wholly, so there is no longer need for another 'half'......what place in this world is there, then, for……love?

Is it merely companionship, which will help keep us alive & make things pleasanter? Is it sex? Is it conversation? Is it the sharing of bliss & brilliant act of life with another or many? And if so, why does it feel like you must share it only (mostly) with one?

In this great, great world…full of wonderful adventures I have yet to go on…with all these friends or lovers or strangers I have yet to find or connect with…is there a place for love? What is love?  An idea of a thing that has been instilled in us all since birth? Is there a place for it? For more than a breath? More than a moment? More than something ever changing & in transition? More than a series of hellos & goodbyes, punctuated by,  '...how much I love you?'

…………And who, then, when I hope one day to find someone by my side…who, or what, am I still longing for?

Meditational Variations in Major & Minor Keys

It has been a while since I've written, though many things have drawn me to wish to write.

I suppose it is because, in the last few months, growth & change & shifting have occurred at such an intensely rapid rate & in so many varied & seemingly sporadic directions, and yet have been so naturally tied together, (though they seemed unforseeable at the time time as to how they were linked) that I have not been able to put metaphorical (technological) pen to paper, as it were, for every shift and slip of thought has been only shying me further on to another & another & another, lying softly somewhere gradually outlining an entire tapestry of life & self, for me.

And it is all...the same. Hmh.
So strange. And yet, not at all...

In any case. Today: Meditations.

I have begun to recognize for some time that-- when you want something to happen, it will. That is all.

Now...you may want it to be sunny & it will rain, yes. (Though I have developed some thoughts & theories, especially now, even to that-- but those are for another time).

However, this thing I believe to be true. (I know it to be, but for now let us say believe, for all truth is relevant & I am certain there are those in the world for whom this is not the truth. But I do).

Example: You want to lose weight. And you want to get in shape. And blah, blah, blah. And you cannot.

This is not true. You can. You are capable. Your body is capable. You can. This feels harsh, but the reality (for me) is that when a thing is important enough, you not only can but will accomplish the thing you desire. When (if) being in shape is more important than whatever your need is to over-fill your belly, more important than the tiredness or the lack of desire to exercise, to be attuned to your bodies actual wants & needs...it will happen. And, in the end, it suddenly won't really be difficult. Mostly. Because you will want it.

But that is the condition: You have to want it. You.
When you want something, truly want it, you will be ready, and it will be easy. Until then, part of you may want it, but the reasons for not having what you want are more important. You may feel like you are fighting for what you want; you are trying but what you desire is just out f reach, just too hard, you are not good/strong/something enough to have it...it is impossible. But, in truth you will know that what you want IS attainable, the moment you truly want it.

And then it simply becomes a matter of steps, planning, yes/no decisions to achieve what you want.

But you have to be ready: until you are ready, all the other reasons will be more important. So, don't get upset at yourself for not having what you want-- know that it simply means you are not ready/don't want it enough yet. You can sit there saying, 'That's not fair! I can't help that __________! I'm trying!' And, indeed, you feel as though you are, but you are simply putting an excess amount of effort into the back & forth-- trying to attain something that you do not actually want. You have what you want. You may not like it. But it is what you choose to have. It is simply that you are not ready to realize/recognize what you want in that moment.

Now...(to continue with the example of food, since it is one of a few very personal points for me)...you might say to that thought, "I don't WANT to be fat! I don't want to be out of shape!" But every moment you make the decision to eat something-- something extra, something nourishing, something 'horrible' for you; it does not MATTER-- you are feeding not your stomach, but the thing in you that wants. Perhaps in that moment what your body actually does need is food. Perhaps what it wants is to be filled in a different way, like sex or love or comfort, which you are not receiving in that moment. Perhaps what your body wants is the overflowing fire & fulfillment & energy that comes with expressing yourself, or doing something which you love, that you have been denying yourself...

You are feeding it. You are feeding your self, your body & your soul. Just not with what you know it wants underneath. Or with what you 'want'  for yourself.

...so, we realize that we are actually misdiagnosing the problem. We are not actually aware of what we really want. The problem is not actually in attaining what we want, but in recognizing it:
                      To attain what you want, you must know what you want.

Recognize that if you do not have something that your brain thinks it desires, it is not a fault in you. It is simply that you are not net ready to face what it is. And this is ok.

Have compassion for all things, but fore-mostly for yourself. And you will begin to recognize what it is to live within yourself. And when you live within yourself, you will know what it is you truly want: and then it will only be a matter of taking steps to attain it.

That is all.
___________________________________________________________________

I am in the stage now, when I am more often than not completely aware of what I desire & who I desire to be. I have, since coming here, begun to also be aware of my boundary lines: how much am I willing to let go of; how much & what do I really want to change; what I truly desire vs. what is in my head that I should desire & what I am NOT yet ready to face. Suddenly, most things that used to make me panic or fill me with upset or unrest do not, because I simply realize that I am not ready, yet, to face something; I do not truly want it enough yet to let go of whatever is keeping me from it. And I am learning, in turn, to have patience with myself: I know that I am not failing, because all things that are truly desired will come in time-- when I am ready, I will be. And so when I am ready, I will have what I want.

I am simply not ready yet. (For that part, for now at least-- but there are many other things to face & work on or rejoice in or live in now & so I have patience for all the rest...which I think makes the rest come faster & easier, in the end, just as you can more often achieve more with kindness than with cruelty. So it also seems, unto yourself).

I have also become better at stopping myself now when I am getting wrapped up within the walls of my 'world' of trying/negative 'realities,' 'truths' & 'can'ts/shouldn'ts,' to say...ok, wait. This is bothering me...it seems like I want this, but let's break it down & be specific: what do I actually want in this situation? Say it in plain terms & realizing what it is I actually think that I want or need but do not have. Then, as stated, it either becomes a specific case of realizing what it is that is causing the disquiet & finding or realizing the remedy for it...or bringing to light what I believed I did not have & realizing that what I wanted, I already had within me. If I didn't have it within me, I now recognize it as a choice.

Take steps to achieve it, or accept that it is not what you want. (Yet. Or at all).

For example: "Why didn't he/she/they call? Don't they like me? Did I do something wrong?!

Why is their lack of contact bothering you? Do you feel lonely right now? Why? What will truly be wrong if they do not contact you when you want them to? Will you die? No. Will the earth explode? No. Will you cry...? Maybe. Then WHY? Look closer...what is it that you feel you are lacking or not receiving that can cause tears? Oh. I want ___________ / I want to be _________ / I want to feel ____________ / I want to see/do/be ___________.

...well, ok then. Accomplish what you want. Achieve it. Get it. Do it. No one is stopping you. Now whatever you want might be FROM them, aka -- "I want ___________ to be holding me right now." But underneath, you must still ask: WHY? And I guarantee that holding yourself will make you feel better & there will almost always be a why you do not expect that has, often, little to do with the other person or situation. And if it is indeed a situation, you are in luck! Simply go get it. Keep working at achieving it until you have what you want. There is no: I tried & failed. There is simply - I must try MORE.

"I don't dance like her. I'll never dance like her."

Of course you won't. Because while she is working every day to dance, you are standing here crying about how you will never dance like her.

I never said it would be easy. i never said it wouldn't take hard work. I never said there wouldn't be sacrifice...but when it IS what you want, there will be no question. It will be worth it.

......(I think).
 ______________________________________________________________________

Of course...the more you begin to recognize these patterns, the more you also begin to recognize your own choices or plateaus.

I am willing to do this today...but only up to this point. Today: I am not ready to let that one go...soon, but not quite yet.

(Though of course, then, you must ask again: WHY?) Then it becomes a matter of learning patience with yourself. All things will come in time. But I think knowing that today is not the day to let everything go or the day to give into indulgence...even if it is not healthy...and knowing you must be kind to yourself...is also...a good step. But perhaps the most difficult one.

......I know the healthy road lies to the left.  I know it. I can see it....but....I want the right with all my heart. What can I do?

___________________________________________________________________

And so it begins. And ends. And always will be, ever onward...


...(and up. Or elsewhere).

Hmh.

..................Now the question is...are you ready to have what you want?
(Can you handle it?)

New...

The end of the first 'week' of school. In truth, only three days, but it feels like months, in some ways...very positive ways.

It is also the segway from the end of an era into the beginning of a new one...a new life, for me...a new..........existence. Frame of existence, I think.

And that is how it feels: like a stream that lead where I was not entirely expecting, but had dreamed of once, that now turns into a river & I am preparing for the sound of the widening of waterfall in front of me & the innevitable, endless path that leads all water eventually, back to & into the sea.

I am....full. And filling. And opening, expanding. All of it....and I am, indeed, becoming like 'water' it seems to me. A joyous water. Hah! What a thought.

I...

If you believe in fate, as many do (while I have always protested against, but secretly, inwardly rebelled & hoped & reacted at the thoughts of 'signs' & roads & paths & such, feeling or afraid that they must be true), you could not now deny that I was meant to be here, where I am, now at this exact moment, were you to have been here now & the lats 2 months. I did not know it til now. But...

I was given a table. Massage tables are very expensive. I was given one. For free. WITH an extra face cradle & arm rest (extra often-sought accessories that all add to the cost). AND I was given a tub with 'sheets,' she said. What I did not know was that I was given THE perfect table-- top of the line, best quality-- and the one I would have chosen for myself, were my funds limitless. Even the color was the one I wanted. And the bin of sheets? Every possible supply I could want. Perfect. The very best.

For free.

Every separate thing that has happened here so far builds things up & up, reassuring where I am til it's so natural that I almost don't even truly NOTICE all of what is so serendipitously going on...because it feels so natural, as though it had always been a part of me. And around me. This was my world.

Like the feel of a Samurai sword or bow & arrows always did...but more all encompassing.

...and it keeps growing.

Yes. Like the river.

                                                     .....(and it is only the end of the first 3 days). Hah.

            ...I didn't even want the weekend to come.        :) 

The Wish... (2013)

I did not have a new years resolution. I don’t do things like that.

I have hopes & progresses I wish to pursue, but I don’t think that resolving to do something on one particular day more than any other is a necessary thing. But then again, time means very little to me. Every day is a new year.

This morning I woke up – with far too little sleep. Dogs were barking, my mother lay next to me where she’d stayed the night, sharing my massive bed for one of the last times I would sleep in it for a good length. It was cold. Frost crystals outlining the window, which was unexpected.

I feel like I'm getting sick again. I was so cold.

I do not—did not—have any new years resolutions this year. No.

This morning, the bathroom was filled with a pale, breathy sort of light; vibrant and cool through the window payne. I stepped into the shower. The hot water hit me & I forced myself to take a deep long breath, pulling sleep, physical hurts, aches & scattered hyper-thoughts from my body & exhale them. ‘Ok,” I thought. “Just breathe; it begins now. One more day here. It begins now.”

Perhaps it was the window. I do not know. I do not care. But suddenly I was filled with one, single thought; filled with it:

...Let me be made of light.

Let me be filled with it. Let my body & my being here on this earth be the vessel that bears the light to others all around me. Let my body learn to heal itself—let me learn to make my body a healthy home so that it can bear light & healing to others. Let me now begin to be what I was made for. What I hope I can be made for.

Let me enjoy pleasures only in this world to give myself back to it; to make myself more of it, to bring me grounded into the world & know it as joy. To love. To make myself more for the being & the giving.

One thought. That became a prayer...

Please. Please..

...Let me be made of light.

Inspiration, anyone? Tieing lines?

Alright Hobbits, Muppets & wonderful creatures of all kinds...

THIS....is technically a 'writer's blog.' I have titled it such. On my website, it says 'See writer's blog:' and has a link to here that you can click. So it must be one.

I have been remiss, I feel, in posting or discussing what I'm working on in writing on here, so in lieu of the recent usual posts on ponderings, musings, current events & drenching tides of emotion... I am actually posting about writing today. Not much...but something.

I need to speak with someone. Or at any rate, get this the f*ck out...

I am writing a novel. And today:
I'm stuck.

This is Novemeber (apparently the kind of November that has an extra e thrown into it at that...nope I don't edit. Much. And it IS).

November: aka NaNoWriMo.

National. Novel. Writing. Month.   
(It really is. Look it up).

.....and I'm writing. Or trying. Kind of. I AM trying, though every time I seem to get a flow going, I am interrupted by an appointment & every time I suddenly find myself with time, my mind goes half blank.

I must admit I started my novel some time before this month began, in bits &
p(i before e, except after c)ieces  flashes, scenes, vague notions...

...and a GIRL. One girl. I had a girl in mind. She has many of the qualities I long for in myself, or feel (or wish, vainly) that I possesed....many similar odd likes/dislikes (or just oddities) to those of myself. But she is not me. And the more I write her, the more I know she is not me.

...And they are all me.

I feel torn between writing what is real & true...and writing a good story. Like I can't possibly do both.


Plot.   

...Is a silly, stupid, tricky thing.  And it's gettin' all wavy on me.

Mmh.  *(disgruntled noise)*

I write much better with other people or in a group effort. My inspiration thrives from other peoples energy & words: When I can turn to someone & say, "Give me a name." or "A consonant,  need a consonant...!" Or I propose a failing/contrived idea & someone says, well, how about we change this detail to __________ & this happens, and I can suddenly go, "No! Oh-ma-God I have it now! Thank you!" And begin to completely re-write the scene from a different person's point of view...

...I am writing this novel: Alone.

And right now, I'm stuck. Just: stuck.

No sooner do I find a name, than a month later, it tastes wrong in my mouth. I have a thousand scenes, but no way to tie them all together. A brilliant & overflowing (eh-hem)  vocabulary....until I need the words to describe or progress a situation & then its all 'ummmm....he-said......she-said....it felt like a.....' who knows, but something mundane & often repeated. Well, apparently EVERYTHING in this book happens 'suddenly.'


......o.O.....   (Double eh-hem). Dear God.

First it's Johny. Then suddenly, in the middle of hiking, I find out she has a brother...

.....she has a BROTHER?!  ....Ok. Well then why the hell hasn't he appeared til now? And what's his place in the REST of the book?! (Good name for him, though. Just came naturally, right away....good sign? I hope?) Then....ok, apparently she had a little sister (they had a little sister, remember? That changes the feel of it now, doesn't it?) ....who died? Ok. And it's her fault. Or...at least, she feels  like it is..........ok. Well....but why? And how? And.......are we ever gonna get to the plot/ If it's in there it has to have a reason....am I writing 5 different novels??
.....and then tonight: I discover they are TWINS??????!! Johny & her brother are TWINS?

What the hell am I writing?!

......ugh.

Exasperatedly yours,
~ G. "The Whistler"

....(nope. That's the OTHER blog, G.)

"Oy!"

An Artist's Work

"Finishing the hat,
How you have to finish the hat.
How you watch the rest of the world
From a window...
While you finish the hat.
_________

However you live,
There's a part of you always standing by,
Mapping out the sky,
Finishing a hat...
Starting on a hat..
Finishing a hat...
Look, I made a hat...
Where there never was a hat ."

I have always felt alone in my life. Not lonely, not sad, but alone. I think we all are. (It's not an uncommon theory-- I hear many people say so often). And yet,  we all strive for contact. That, as well, seems necessary for survival...or, at least, happiness.

It's a delicate balance.

Funny. I...have begun to work for myself in the last few years. Many people are inspired. Many people disapprove with polite smiles. Many of them look at me and say, 

'Oh, that's nice. But what do you do to make money? 

Have you done anything famous?

But...wait, what do you really do?'

You have to love it. You have to. I prefer a bit more stability. I do. But...re-making myself monthly; daily. Updating websites, designing business cards, frantically searching to make ends meet... I do. I love it all. Spending hours & hours a day, writing, choreographing, training, overwhelmed in the most lovely way with my ever-changing imperfections; striving for an ever-evolving ideal and sense of accomplishment. There....is, in reality, nothing greater than this feeling. (To me).

I didn't know that til recently.

Somehow, though, most people don't seem to understand. I think they do, quintessentially. But it makes them angry. Offended. Confused.

"Why didn't you call me? Why are you so reclusive? I can never count on you! Why can't you take care of yourself?" Then in the same breath, "Oh, look what wonderful work you do... Do more." And again, "When are you going to get a real job?"

As though the concept of putting yourself into your work & making your work about  yourself & your expression cannot truly exist. As though it's unheard of, when in fact we all long for it. (Or seem to).

If the thing that wakes you up at night or makes your eyes bright is carving things from wood...why wouldn't you do that? If numbers give you a thrill, embrace them! If to sing is how you awaken in the world, than by all means raise your voice! I think so many people envy actors, dancers, artists...is because it is the most obvious course of passion. There are nearly no tangible rewards but there can be glamor & beauty & expression.  But if the smell of baking bread leaves you lusting for flour & pan....I dare say your pastries would woo us all, were you to find it in yourself to let go of running a bank.

Perhaps some jobs would disappear. (Perhaps they need to). Perhaps we'd all have to chip in a bit more of the things which MUST be done that 'nobody wants to do.' But it is my experience that when you enfold yourself in passion, even doing the dishes or taking out the garbage becomes part of the ecstasy. And I see nothing wrong with a bit more art & passion in this world & a bit less greed. I want to live in THAT world.

And....

In the meantime. I always want to connect to my friends. I do. I want their company; sharing meals with them...laughing & venturing & connection.

But is it so foreign or hard a concept to grasp......that my art is my work? My life? My mistress AND my love? Because....my work is me?

Do I need a bigger salary to make you understand what it's like when I cannot answer my phone because I simply have to...

...'finish the hat'?

Love. (Or the thought of it).

(I wrote this some months ago).
 _________________________________________________________________

An unexpected occurrence.

I found out someone I loved (love) with everything I am....now loves another. I thought I would cry. (I suppose I did for a moment, but that was much later). I thought I'd feel angry...thought I'd feel lonely; like my world was crumbling: so soon? SO SOON?

But I read the message, again & again...and all I felt was...happiness for him. Not the restrained, "Oh I'm so happy for you now let me go hide in a corner" sort of resigned false joy.

No. I felt genuinely....incredibly...happy. It was............not at all what I expected.

Not at all.

I just sort of stared. And then I smiled. Uncontrolled.

It has nothing to do with me. I love him. And I got excited at the thought that he was happy & loved & being held & taken care of, with love. (Better, perhaps, than I could).

.............................................

What an unexpected thing.

Portland

It's November.

Portland, again. I am back in the land of dreary rain-winters, lights on buildings, silver sidewalks, trees & restlessness...

I don't want to be here. I don't want to not be here. I just...didn't want to be here so soon.

I want to be a hermit.

I actually find I don't really want much of anyone, even my friends, to know I'm here. I would rather go unnoticed-- come here to do my work, write alone in coffee shops, try somehow to continue working & raising money, perform in my show: focus on my work. And go an unnoticed shadow in this city of shades & rain. (Tango, of course, is the problem. How do I Tango incognito?)

...Perhaps I'll don a mustache.

It isn't a harsh thing. I love my friends. But all I want for a time is myself. I don't mind feeling loneliness in my own good company. I sometimes like it.

But my work. My art. Figuring this whole horrible thing out for school -- or giving up on it. I want to do it all alone.

I miss my bed.

I hope my roommates are not angry with me that I left so fast without a goodbye. I don't always think before I act, I fear. And it all happened so fast; all at once. I'm dancing; I'm injured; I'm dancing; I'm not sleeping; there's a ride & there may not be another -- so I pack, I clean, I'm running out of hours, I say yes & I go.

...it isn't til later that I realize this may not have been the wisest course of action.

It's an odd thing to know that you are deathly, deeply, sadly afraid of living your life out unnoticed & unremembered; unremarkable & at the exact same time to go through phases of longing for just that. Hmh.   *(I'm smiling).*

I'm glad to see my sister. I'm beginning to love my family more than just because they are my family. I really LOVE my sister. Miss my mother & father, even if I do not love always being around them...


Portland.
I don't know what to do.

It is also an odd thing to know that action is required; that your life is slipping by while you sit in coffee shops & just be sitting here, full of a softer kind of anxiety; worry, but just somehow fully happy & content to sit & spend hours...watching them slip by while you sit...and stare....and just look out windows.

I have so many things I want to do.

I don't want to go through the task of explaining, when my friends run into me here, why I am back again. I want to move forward. I am also happy with the ways in which I move forward; slowly advancing circles; curlicue paths; snaking spirals or interweaving knots of forward movement coupled with dramatic lines of straightness or dots of stillness to build momentum.

'People' do not understand. And I do not want to explain anymore.

I am happy in my life & I know where I am heading & that I am heading there; making progress. Isn't that enough?  (It should be. It is to me & my life is the one I am living).

Hello again, Portland. I'm glad to be working here, though i do not miss you. Anymore.

Hmh. How marvel-ous. Indeed, I marvel at it. How strange...

I've missed my sister. I hope my roommates aren't angry & I didn't f*ck that up again.

...I like being quiet. In the shadows. Without a name to me.
I have plans.

I'm back.