We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.
I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.
I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?
-Pablo Neruda
I love Pablo. He speaks to me like few poets do..What to say that has not already been said?
There is much in the world that upsets me. There are many in the world that hurt me. There are few the cut me to the core. To the handful that love me, I cannot understand how or why, but thank you.
To the rest, I have nothing more to say.
5/09/2006
4/30/2006
april showers
Hi. That's Lilly. Taken today while eating grapes. She hates the camera now (see below)..still I can't help but want to capture the innocence and beauty of youth whenever I can.
Just bought a few new cds: Cat Pwr The Greatest old Nick Drake (2000) bryter layer, and a crazy Paris Combo called Motifs
I started G. Orwell's Down and Out in Paris and London last night.
I am lonely. I find myself getting lost in music to ease the feeling. The song currently playing is called "Where is my Love?"
My radio showthis week will be themed something with the subject in it. Something about lost love-love unrequited--venus and mars--I dunno. Don't tell me-I know--already been done. Just seems fitting for me...
At soma yesterday I witnessed 4 couples-all of whom were singles earlier this year. Seems so easy for everyone else to figure it out.
Today I picked Lilacs in the pouring rain. I love lilacs. The fragrance permeates (sp) the whole apartment. Am watching Lost in Translation and feeling a lot like Scarlet JoHanson even if I don't look like her. Where is my Bill Murray, I ask you?
Show opens on Friday. 2 weeks and I am done.
Miss you. Are you there?
4/26/2006
hope springs eternal
You cannot say to the sun, "More sun." Or to the rain, "Less rain." To a man, geisha can only be half a wife. We are the wives of nightfall. And yet, to learn kindness after so much unkindness, to understand that a little girl with more courage than she knew, would find her prayers were answered, can that not be called happiness? After all these are not the memoirs of an empress, nor of a queen. These are memoirs of another kind.
Hello. Twelve noon on a Wednesday. I took the day off--needing some time to do things normal people do after work and on weekends, like sleep, eat, read, write, think.
It’s hard to do in a few short hours.
I am not sure what I can say on the blog any more. After reading about that freak who killed his ten year old neighbor and planned to eat her...then I read in a newspaper article that his blog mentioned him wanting to be normal, asking for God's forgiveness, and something about canibalism--yikes! I can only imagine what people would think of the things I have posted.
I am also bummed (but see the point) of Google restricting what you can look up online now without buying the book. It makes it hard to directly quote things without logging on and being tracked. I should have seen that coming. Still, it is frustrating when all you want is a poem and you have to jump through so many hoops to get it…
I just finished Carson McCullers Ballad of the Sad Café and other stories. Really the other stories. “Wunderkind” “The Jockey” “Madame Zilensky and the King of Finland” “The Sojourner” “A Domestic Dilemma” …but still need to read the last one, “”A Tree, A Rock, A Cloud”.
McCullers is nice-she doesn’t get me teary-eyed like the Russian authors do, but her descriptions in places are delicious all the same.
Other recent readings include a short article on the new term for parents (and mid 30 somethings) like me from the April 3, 2006 NewYork Magazine entitled “Up with Grups” by Adam Sternbergh. Check it out if you have time.
I saw Memoirs of a Geisha Saturday night. Loved the film. Need to read the book. More and more I say that now as I am watching a film how much better the book must be. Capote’s bio had me feeling that way too. Brokeback Mountain however didn’t have the effect on me I thought it would.
In other news, I learned to sail this weekend. On Lake Lemon, of all places. It was nice getting back to the water. I miss it so. There were a few times I thought the boat was going to capsize, but I managed to stay afloat. It was a great learning experience for me and an exersize in patience and giving up control to the elements.
Lilly grows more and more amazing daily. She is officially potty trained. She loves to read and play in the dirt. We play lots of imagination games, which is a good sign. I cannot believe she is three.
The other day we were digging in the dirt near my apartment,
“Mommy," she whispered,
"you’re my best friend.” She kept digging and I stopped and looked at her, trying to decide whether or not she knew what she was actually saying.
The feeling was exactly the same as the wind-being-knocked-out-of-you-feeling when someone says I love you for the first time--unexpectedly and unforgetable.
I currently hate my job and cannot wait until summer. Still too early to say whether or not it is the time of year when burnout rears its ugly heard or I am seriously ready for a change, but think this time that the latter applies. Time to start looking for something new.
The Cyprus Fulbright was actually cancelled for this year. I received word that funding arrived too late, and that several of the 12 people selected had reservations about committing to something that seemed risky and so up-in-the-air. I am hoping that they will invite me back to participate next year.
The daffodils and bright red flower blooms from small bushes around town are mostly spent now. The last time I was given a bouquet from a man was a little over three years ago. It will be a long time of waiting for that to happen again. I curse myself and my plain looks. I curse my longing for intellectual, physical and spiritual connection with someone. Still, hope springs eternal, I suppose.
Hope you are well. I miss you.
Hello. Twelve noon on a Wednesday. I took the day off--needing some time to do things normal people do after work and on weekends, like sleep, eat, read, write, think.
It’s hard to do in a few short hours.
I am not sure what I can say on the blog any more. After reading about that freak who killed his ten year old neighbor and planned to eat her...then I read in a newspaper article that his blog mentioned him wanting to be normal, asking for God's forgiveness, and something about canibalism--yikes! I can only imagine what people would think of the things I have posted.
I am also bummed (but see the point) of Google restricting what you can look up online now without buying the book. It makes it hard to directly quote things without logging on and being tracked. I should have seen that coming. Still, it is frustrating when all you want is a poem and you have to jump through so many hoops to get it…
I just finished Carson McCullers Ballad of the Sad Café and other stories. Really the other stories. “Wunderkind” “The Jockey” “Madame Zilensky and the King of Finland” “The Sojourner” “A Domestic Dilemma” …but still need to read the last one, “”A Tree, A Rock, A Cloud”.
McCullers is nice-she doesn’t get me teary-eyed like the Russian authors do, but her descriptions in places are delicious all the same.
Other recent readings include a short article on the new term for parents (and mid 30 somethings) like me from the April 3, 2006 NewYork Magazine entitled “Up with Grups” by Adam Sternbergh. Check it out if you have time.
I saw Memoirs of a Geisha Saturday night. Loved the film. Need to read the book. More and more I say that now as I am watching a film how much better the book must be. Capote’s bio had me feeling that way too. Brokeback Mountain however didn’t have the effect on me I thought it would.
In other news, I learned to sail this weekend. On Lake Lemon, of all places. It was nice getting back to the water. I miss it so. There were a few times I thought the boat was going to capsize, but I managed to stay afloat. It was a great learning experience for me and an exersize in patience and giving up control to the elements.
Lilly grows more and more amazing daily. She is officially potty trained. She loves to read and play in the dirt. We play lots of imagination games, which is a good sign. I cannot believe she is three.
The other day we were digging in the dirt near my apartment,
“Mommy," she whispered,
"you’re my best friend.” She kept digging and I stopped and looked at her, trying to decide whether or not she knew what she was actually saying.
The feeling was exactly the same as the wind-being-knocked-out-of-you-feeling when someone says I love you for the first time--unexpectedly and unforgetable.
I currently hate my job and cannot wait until summer. Still too early to say whether or not it is the time of year when burnout rears its ugly heard or I am seriously ready for a change, but think this time that the latter applies. Time to start looking for something new.
The Cyprus Fulbright was actually cancelled for this year. I received word that funding arrived too late, and that several of the 12 people selected had reservations about committing to something that seemed risky and so up-in-the-air. I am hoping that they will invite me back to participate next year.
The daffodils and bright red flower blooms from small bushes around town are mostly spent now. The last time I was given a bouquet from a man was a little over three years ago. It will be a long time of waiting for that to happen again. I curse myself and my plain looks. I curse my longing for intellectual, physical and spiritual connection with someone. Still, hope springs eternal, I suppose.
Hope you are well. I miss you.
4/11/2006
april showers
Even on the smallest islands,
they are tilling the fields,
Skylarks singing.
-Kobayashi Issa
lilly
Hello Blog-o-sphere. Long time no talk.
Sometimes life gets in the way of writing and that has been the case for me.
The older I get, the more I realize that my life is so insignificant that there is no purpose in putting my thoughts out there in the first place. Unfortunately, it doesn’t change the fact that there are a few things that have been difficult….(let me put the pesto and peas down a sec).
I received a Fulbright Hays from the University of Arizona for a 4-week study in Cyprus called Teach Cyprus. Only 12 people were selected to participate in the process-- Pre-service teachers thru 16. I was honored and excited beyond words--something that I had been actively seeking and anticipating for several months.
Unfortunately due to the cost of the trip and the short time I had to accept the Fulbright, I had to give it up. My parents were less than supportive in the opportunity; I had no help from administration at my school. To exert the energies needed to gather necessary funds to pay for a funded grant seemed assinine to me--so I declined.
I have to let the resentment I feel towards the above go. It will do me little good holding on to the feelings. The opportunity will not come my way again--so I must remind myself there must be something really important coming this summer that is keeping me from doing this.
++++
I have let myself down again thinking that spending time with someone whom I thought was a quality person turned out to be nothing more than a sham. I think I have given up on that whole dynamic of my life. Sadly, too, as it was the main reason I am here this time around.
Just means another lifetime to figure out how in the world to create and maintain personal relationships with like-minded people. I honestly give up.
++++
Lilly turns three on Monday. This time of year reminds me of the year she was born, all the feelings I was feeling at that time, how I cherished my friendships, and how one kind gesture from a friend remains with me still… it is, indeed, the hardest--absolutely the hardest month.
I hope you are well.
the president's garden in april
outside the lilly library, i.u. bloomington campus
they are tilling the fields,
Skylarks singing.
-Kobayashi Issa
lillyHello Blog-o-sphere. Long time no talk.
Sometimes life gets in the way of writing and that has been the case for me.
The older I get, the more I realize that my life is so insignificant that there is no purpose in putting my thoughts out there in the first place. Unfortunately, it doesn’t change the fact that there are a few things that have been difficult….(let me put the pesto and peas down a sec).
I received a Fulbright Hays from the University of Arizona for a 4-week study in Cyprus called Teach Cyprus. Only 12 people were selected to participate in the process-- Pre-service teachers thru 16. I was honored and excited beyond words--something that I had been actively seeking and anticipating for several months.
Unfortunately due to the cost of the trip and the short time I had to accept the Fulbright, I had to give it up. My parents were less than supportive in the opportunity; I had no help from administration at my school. To exert the energies needed to gather necessary funds to pay for a funded grant seemed assinine to me--so I declined.
I have to let the resentment I feel towards the above go. It will do me little good holding on to the feelings. The opportunity will not come my way again--so I must remind myself there must be something really important coming this summer that is keeping me from doing this.
++++
I have let myself down again thinking that spending time with someone whom I thought was a quality person turned out to be nothing more than a sham. I think I have given up on that whole dynamic of my life. Sadly, too, as it was the main reason I am here this time around.
Just means another lifetime to figure out how in the world to create and maintain personal relationships with like-minded people. I honestly give up.
++++
Lilly turns three on Monday. This time of year reminds me of the year she was born, all the feelings I was feeling at that time, how I cherished my friendships, and how one kind gesture from a friend remains with me still… it is, indeed, the hardest--absolutely the hardest month.
I hope you are well.
the president's garden in apriloutside the lilly library, i.u. bloomington campus
3/28/2006
Cyprus in June
I am going to Cyprus in June-July.
Just found out at 655a.m.
Not sure what to think
Thanks to whomever made that possible.
ps--I will let you know how it is in June!!
Just found out at 655a.m.
Not sure what to think
Thanks to whomever made that possible.
ps--I will let you know how it is in June!!
3/27/2006
"Lazy Line Painter Jane"
Lazy Line Painter Jane prayed for an inspiration that would lift her above the mundanity of midday on a Thursday. She was in a hole, sat with egg and chips, watching busses throught the plate glass and easy radio of some old cafe. She was too bashful to pray outright in the cafe, so she pretended to read her fortune at the bottom of her tea cup, and she got what she wanted that way....
A woman who found herself too late. That's me. I am standing in my kitchen nook in my work suit, listening to LOW's Great Destroyer a little louder than usual. Drinking a newly opened bottle of Cab., I am pissed that my wireless router died in the last thunderstorm.
So am I Lazy Line Jane? I dunno.
Things I have been thinking about lately:
1. How the body changes by doing a target workout--like running or swimming.
2. How spring always always takes me unawares-one minute it is a snowstorm, the next it is 80 degrees and green. I never see it coming.
3. I am wrong. and often.
4. Once you have given your heart to someone who didn't want it in the first place, it still doesn't seem to grow back for anyone else.
5. Tornado dreams for me must be like dreams of falling or death for others-my reoccuring nightmare that indicates extra-stress. Last night I was actually taken up into the wind tunnel and after a few revolutions, set down again undisturbed. It came back to get me later in the dream, though.
6. What is Cyprus like in June?
7. Running has once again provided an outlet to mool over the puzzle.
Life seems to be passing by at a furious rate. I notice people staring at me more these days. Not sure why--but they do. Too bad I don't have the superpower to hear other peoples thoughts.
A friend of mine saw Belle and Sebastian in Louisville recently. I was jealous. But he doesn't have 2nd row center to Wilco.
On the movie front--recently saw GOOD NIGHT, GOOD LUCK and CAPOTE as well as SYRIANA (sp). Loved them all for different reasons. Had the hardest time with the latter, as I was in the way back and could not read the subtitles to save my life. Must see again--next time, front row. God, I am getting old!
Touche. Hope as always that you are well.
A woman who found herself too late. That's me. I am standing in my kitchen nook in my work suit, listening to LOW's Great Destroyer a little louder than usual. Drinking a newly opened bottle of Cab., I am pissed that my wireless router died in the last thunderstorm.
So am I Lazy Line Jane? I dunno.
Things I have been thinking about lately:
1. How the body changes by doing a target workout--like running or swimming.
2. How spring always always takes me unawares-one minute it is a snowstorm, the next it is 80 degrees and green. I never see it coming.
3. I am wrong. and often.
4. Once you have given your heart to someone who didn't want it in the first place, it still doesn't seem to grow back for anyone else.
5. Tornado dreams for me must be like dreams of falling or death for others-my reoccuring nightmare that indicates extra-stress. Last night I was actually taken up into the wind tunnel and after a few revolutions, set down again undisturbed. It came back to get me later in the dream, though.
6. What is Cyprus like in June?
7. Running has once again provided an outlet to mool over the puzzle.
Life seems to be passing by at a furious rate. I notice people staring at me more these days. Not sure why--but they do. Too bad I don't have the superpower to hear other peoples thoughts.
A friend of mine saw Belle and Sebastian in Louisville recently. I was jealous. But he doesn't have 2nd row center to Wilco.
On the movie front--recently saw GOOD NIGHT, GOOD LUCK and CAPOTE as well as SYRIANA (sp). Loved them all for different reasons. Had the hardest time with the latter, as I was in the way back and could not read the subtitles to save my life. Must see again--next time, front row. God, I am getting old!
Touche. Hope as always that you are well.
3/15/2006
may-september
“Let it be; I’m glad of it,” I thought, “I’m precisely glad that I’ll seem repulsive to her; I like it…”
I have been too vulnerable. I must gather my power and undo this familiarity before it takes hold. Get me out of this negative thinking!
Lately I have had dreams. I am gardening—always gardening. And he arrives--usually with friends and apparently unawares that I am present. Our greeting is always brief, awkward if not abysmal. I cringe and he disappears, I feeling at fault at this unannounced visit. The only words that come to mind when I see him are dread and loathing. I wake anxious and agitated. His face, his voice-- they are no longer clear. I am relieved by that. Still, why can I not shake his poisonous presence? Why must I always feel shameful?
A former student quit school (a freshman in college) a week ago. Just obtaining her driver’s license at 18, she plans to drive cross country to live and work. By strange coincidence I called her and she paid me a visit. There was a lot unsaid. The few things that were seemed forced, scripted. I imagine her travels but instead of feeling a twinge of jealously for her great opportunity, I feel nothing. She is a fool.
I doubt we will speak again.
My eyes glaze over as the phone rings and the name appears. I don’t pick up. I check the time—too late. I begin to work through the dialogue in my mind. I put on the armor, toughen the mind, prepare for the last conversation we will have.
Moving on.
Started The World Is Flat two days ago.
Enjoy it, actually.
Additions as of Thursday...
HEM will be at Birdies April 22
A song I love:
No Word From Tom
The Present
(Dan Messe)
When I saw him by the river
He just smiled and closed his eyes
He said you know that you're gonna give her
One more present - one more lie
I didn't see him for a while then
Though I heard his name around
So I walked down a hundred miles when
On that Iron Bridge it was him I found
I said you know that I have wandered
By the dust here on my feet
For every present that I have squandered
On every false heart that I meet
But I can't take back what I gave them
No, I can't make right what I've made wrong
I can't pretend that I tried to save them
When they were drowning in my song
So I don't come here for a new scar
For to cover the things I've done
I just come here to see how you are
Maybe see how I've become
Well he lay there on that Iron Bridge
Where the Earth and the waters part
He said Hello there well ain't you gonna give
One more present to your own false heart
I have been too vulnerable. I must gather my power and undo this familiarity before it takes hold. Get me out of this negative thinking!
Lately I have had dreams. I am gardening—always gardening. And he arrives--usually with friends and apparently unawares that I am present. Our greeting is always brief, awkward if not abysmal. I cringe and he disappears, I feeling at fault at this unannounced visit. The only words that come to mind when I see him are dread and loathing. I wake anxious and agitated. His face, his voice-- they are no longer clear. I am relieved by that. Still, why can I not shake his poisonous presence? Why must I always feel shameful?
A former student quit school (a freshman in college) a week ago. Just obtaining her driver’s license at 18, she plans to drive cross country to live and work. By strange coincidence I called her and she paid me a visit. There was a lot unsaid. The few things that were seemed forced, scripted. I imagine her travels but instead of feeling a twinge of jealously for her great opportunity, I feel nothing. She is a fool.
I doubt we will speak again.
My eyes glaze over as the phone rings and the name appears. I don’t pick up. I check the time—too late. I begin to work through the dialogue in my mind. I put on the armor, toughen the mind, prepare for the last conversation we will have.
Moving on.
Started The World Is Flat two days ago.
Enjoy it, actually.
Additions as of Thursday...
HEM will be at Birdies April 22
A song I love:
No Word From Tom
The Present
(Dan Messe)
When I saw him by the river
He just smiled and closed his eyes
He said you know that you're gonna give her
One more present - one more lie
I didn't see him for a while then
Though I heard his name around
So I walked down a hundred miles when
On that Iron Bridge it was him I found
I said you know that I have wandered
By the dust here on my feet
For every present that I have squandered
On every false heart that I meet
But I can't take back what I gave them
No, I can't make right what I've made wrong
I can't pretend that I tried to save them
When they were drowning in my song
So I don't come here for a new scar
For to cover the things I've done
I just come here to see how you are
Maybe see how I've become
Well he lay there on that Iron Bridge
Where the Earth and the waters part
He said Hello there well ain't you gonna give
One more present to your own false heart
3/08/2006
the paris match
There's nothing sweeter than to hear a song that takes you back decades. Tonight it was Style Council's "The Paris Match". Romantic times--then and now.
I am gearing up for the anti-climatic spring break vacation. But being both broke and unattached, I find the vacation a time of wrestless- hurry-up-and-go time. Instead of going somewhere, I am instead watching a slew of cats in the Bloomington area in exchange for booze, dinner out or a firm but friendly handshake. Not fair.
I am excited for 2 great bands will be in town at the same time: LOW and WILCO.
And I have a second row center seat for Wilco. So I guess something was pulling in my favor there. Or, buying one ticket gets you closer to the stage than two. Still, it's a dream of mine--to see Wilco so close. The IU theatre is a horrible venue for bands.
Low is coming to Second Story, so the intimate setting will be ok--despite the crowd. Their most recent release, The Great Divide, is pretty loud and chunky...got my earplugs handy.
My recent favorite artist is HEM, aka Sally Ellyson. Alt/Country but a voice like Cat Power crossed with Ella Fitz...good stuff if you can imagine it.
I'm in a great place right now. Busy, happy, empowered, enthusiastic, confident, on top of my game. Plus, I learned a new trick clled "forcing" plants( did I already mention this?) So I have Forsythia blooming in my apartment right now.
Excellent.
Life is good. And you?
Ciao baby.
I am gearing up for the anti-climatic spring break vacation. But being both broke and unattached, I find the vacation a time of wrestless- hurry-up-and-go time. Instead of going somewhere, I am instead watching a slew of cats in the Bloomington area in exchange for booze, dinner out or a firm but friendly handshake. Not fair.
I am excited for 2 great bands will be in town at the same time: LOW and WILCO.
And I have a second row center seat for Wilco. So I guess something was pulling in my favor there. Or, buying one ticket gets you closer to the stage than two. Still, it's a dream of mine--to see Wilco so close. The IU theatre is a horrible venue for bands.
Low is coming to Second Story, so the intimate setting will be ok--despite the crowd. Their most recent release, The Great Divide, is pretty loud and chunky...got my earplugs handy.
My recent favorite artist is HEM, aka Sally Ellyson. Alt/Country but a voice like Cat Power crossed with Ella Fitz...good stuff if you can imagine it.
I'm in a great place right now. Busy, happy, empowered, enthusiastic, confident, on top of my game. Plus, I learned a new trick clled "forcing" plants( did I already mention this?) So I have Forsythia blooming in my apartment right now.
Excellent.
Life is good. And you?
Ciao baby.
2/25/2006
venus and mars
“…I offer the following to indicate the true differences between the two sexes. There are the obvious: men like the Three Stooges, women don’t; men fall in love with their eyes, women with their ears; men do not find it necessary to hold the neck of a straw, whereas women do. And faced with a mechanical failure in an appliance or some such, women are more than likely to go first into quiet hysterics and then call in a repairman. A man, on the other hand, will tell the womenfolk to step aside, then cast a cool discerning eye over the inoperative machine. He will calmly fiddle with this knob and then that one. He will examine the wiring. He will flick the switch on. He will flick the switch off. And with the machine still lying there dormant, he will stand back, confident that he has explored every possible potion. And then he will begin hitting it vigorously with a large stick…” fm The Man in the Suit, Graydon Carter
I was enjoying a relaxing, slow-paced morning in bed Saturday, listening to roots for breakfast on the radio and reading a thieved copy of Vanity Fair.
This was a luxury--still in bed at 815 on any day. I was basking in knowing I had no obligations from now until midnight and beyond.
There is something delightful in reading a magazine from cover to cover without interruption. Wishing that I had a copy of The Sun, which I also frequently lift from various offices around the Bloomington business community, I settled for Vanity Fair. The above quote came from this January 2006 issue.
Life has been grand. More than grand, it has been stellar. Not wanting to jynx my new-found suerta, I will leave it that.
Spring is about to unveil itself here--starting off with earth's delightful dewy smell in the morning, along with a sky that changes colors by the minute. I will enjoying my deck and pasture view soon, very soon.
My daughter is a perfectly charming replica of me and becoming more and more fun as time moves on. We share a passion for dinosaurs and singing. I love her.
My favorite time is mornings. I wake and listen to the radio with her and we hold each other. Funny, how when going without close contact with other humans for long periods of time how even the smallest display of affection can turn ones heart up-side-down. Listening to her soft breathing as she lies still, her tiny hand searching for my protective arm-these are the moments I live for.
Intersting how love finds you when you are ready. It has taken many years to come around but I think the healing is almost complete. Amazing people start to cross your path and their companionship is more rich, meaningful and valued than any beer drinking-dart throwing buddy. If I forget to tell you--thank you.
I was enjoying a relaxing, slow-paced morning in bed Saturday, listening to roots for breakfast on the radio and reading a thieved copy of Vanity Fair.
This was a luxury--still in bed at 815 on any day. I was basking in knowing I had no obligations from now until midnight and beyond.
There is something delightful in reading a magazine from cover to cover without interruption. Wishing that I had a copy of The Sun, which I also frequently lift from various offices around the Bloomington business community, I settled for Vanity Fair. The above quote came from this January 2006 issue.
Life has been grand. More than grand, it has been stellar. Not wanting to jynx my new-found suerta, I will leave it that.
Spring is about to unveil itself here--starting off with earth's delightful dewy smell in the morning, along with a sky that changes colors by the minute. I will enjoying my deck and pasture view soon, very soon.
My daughter is a perfectly charming replica of me and becoming more and more fun as time moves on. We share a passion for dinosaurs and singing. I love her.
My favorite time is mornings. I wake and listen to the radio with her and we hold each other. Funny, how when going without close contact with other humans for long periods of time how even the smallest display of affection can turn ones heart up-side-down. Listening to her soft breathing as she lies still, her tiny hand searching for my protective arm-these are the moments I live for.
Intersting how love finds you when you are ready. It has taken many years to come around but I think the healing is almost complete. Amazing people start to cross your path and their companionship is more rich, meaningful and valued than any beer drinking-dart throwing buddy. If I forget to tell you--thank you.
2/16/2006
"Reaching for the Moon"
The moon and you appear to be
So near and yet so far from me
And here am I on a night in June
Reaching for the moon and you,
I wonder if we'll ever meet
My song of love is incomplete
I'm just the words, looking for the tune
Reaching for the moon and you.
I'm just the words, looking for the tune
Reaching for the moon and you.
-Irving Berlin lyrics
I heard this song last night on All That Jazz while reading in bed.
Ella Fitzgerald of course. So--had to post it here.
Todays' temp. should reach the 60 degree mark.
I can't believe it's February.
This morning I stood outside my apartment and let the breeze blow. It smelled like spring..
The grant is is the mail. I won't find out until mid-march wheter or not I get to spend 4 weeks in the Middle East this summer. Unfortunately only 12 teachers--pre-service--K thru 16. I'm not holding my breath.
Oh and one more thing--Mike Davis resigned. FInally.
So near and yet so far from me
And here am I on a night in June
Reaching for the moon and you,
I wonder if we'll ever meet
My song of love is incomplete
I'm just the words, looking for the tune
Reaching for the moon and you.
I'm just the words, looking for the tune
Reaching for the moon and you.
-Irving Berlin lyrics
I heard this song last night on All That Jazz while reading in bed.
Ella Fitzgerald of course. So--had to post it here.
Todays' temp. should reach the 60 degree mark.
I can't believe it's February.
This morning I stood outside my apartment and let the breeze blow. It smelled like spring..
The grant is is the mail. I won't find out until mid-march wheter or not I get to spend 4 weeks in the Middle East this summer. Unfortunately only 12 teachers--pre-service--K thru 16. I'm not holding my breath.
Oh and one more thing--Mike Davis resigned. FInally.
2/11/2006
VII
But these are all golden dreams.
Oh, tell me, who first announced, who was the first to proclaim
that man does dirty only because he doesn't know his real interests; and that were he to be enlightened, were his eyes to be opened to his real, normal interests, man would immediately stop doing dirty, would immediately become good and noble...etc., etc.
Notes from Underground
I am realaxed, watching Hannah and Her Sisters and writing.
It feels good. I love this movie. I used to watch it over and over with my kid sister. The older you get, the more it makes sense--kinda like Looney Tunes.
A student handed me a book this week, she asked if I was between books. Luckily I am at a place with the books I am reading that a change would be nice.
"Here," she thrust the book into my hand.
"I read it in one sitting--five hours," she announced. I thought to myself that if she applied half that time to her studies she would be valedictorian.
But I love Sarah.
The book, written by the same author as Fight Club is called Choke by Chuck Palahniuk. So far, so good.
Must close and get going. BYE BYE BIRDIE meeting tonight. Ahh, and the noise from the neighbors is slowly rising as the night progresses...too bad they have terrible taste in tunes.
Hope you are well. Ciao.
Oh, tell me, who first announced, who was the first to proclaim
that man does dirty only because he doesn't know his real interests; and that were he to be enlightened, were his eyes to be opened to his real, normal interests, man would immediately stop doing dirty, would immediately become good and noble...etc., etc.
Notes from Underground
I am realaxed, watching Hannah and Her Sisters and writing.
It feels good. I love this movie. I used to watch it over and over with my kid sister. The older you get, the more it makes sense--kinda like Looney Tunes.
A student handed me a book this week, she asked if I was between books. Luckily I am at a place with the books I am reading that a change would be nice.
"Here," she thrust the book into my hand.
"I read it in one sitting--five hours," she announced. I thought to myself that if she applied half that time to her studies she would be valedictorian.
But I love Sarah.
The book, written by the same author as Fight Club is called Choke by Chuck Palahniuk. So far, so good.
Must close and get going. BYE BYE BIRDIE meeting tonight. Ahh, and the noise from the neighbors is slowly rising as the night progresses...too bad they have terrible taste in tunes.
Hope you are well. Ciao.
2/05/2006
apropos
“Apropos of the Wet Snow”
When from out of error’s darkness
With a word both sure and ardent
I had drawn the fallen soul,
And you, filled with deepest torment,
Cursed the vice that had ensnared you
And so doing wrung your hands;
When punishing with recollection
Forgetful conscience, you then told
The tale of all that went before me,
And suddenly you hid your face
In trembling hand and, filed with horror,
Filled with shame, dissolved with tears,
Indignant as you were, and shaken..
Etc, etc, etc.
From poetry of N. A. Nekrasov
Chapter IX
He admits that man feels a compulsion to create, but that he feels an equally strong urge to destroy. Animals delight in the creations they have made, as ants delight in an anthill they have built. Man, on the other hand, takes pleasure only in the creative process, never in its end result. Man senses that after he fully achieves all of his goals, there will be nothing left to do, and so he fears that achievement.
This is where I am with my stuff...
Sad that when you google this poem the first thing that comes up is a FLKR photo page, followed by some idiot-blog.
I saw Andrew Bird last night and the crowd reminded me of the same snobs that I met when at the Yo La Tengo show at Birdies. “Yahhh, he’s so amazing…” Shut the fuck up, you poser.
I hate my neighbors. I cannot decide whether I live in a trailer park or a glorified dorm..
I find it horrific that moving up to a nicer place means I have to deal with higher tech toys. Rich kids are assholes.
When from out of error’s darkness
With a word both sure and ardent
I had drawn the fallen soul,
And you, filled with deepest torment,
Cursed the vice that had ensnared you
And so doing wrung your hands;
When punishing with recollection
Forgetful conscience, you then told
The tale of all that went before me,
And suddenly you hid your face
In trembling hand and, filed with horror,
Filled with shame, dissolved with tears,
Indignant as you were, and shaken..
Etc, etc, etc.
From poetry of N. A. Nekrasov
Chapter IX
He admits that man feels a compulsion to create, but that he feels an equally strong urge to destroy. Animals delight in the creations they have made, as ants delight in an anthill they have built. Man, on the other hand, takes pleasure only in the creative process, never in its end result. Man senses that after he fully achieves all of his goals, there will be nothing left to do, and so he fears that achievement.
This is where I am with my stuff...
Sad that when you google this poem the first thing that comes up is a FLKR photo page, followed by some idiot-blog.
I saw Andrew Bird last night and the crowd reminded me of the same snobs that I met when at the Yo La Tengo show at Birdies. “Yahhh, he’s so amazing…” Shut the fuck up, you poser.
I hate my neighbors. I cannot decide whether I live in a trailer park or a glorified dorm..
I find it horrific that moving up to a nicer place means I have to deal with higher tech toys. Rich kids are assholes.
1/23/2006
"Then the spell of my little debauch would end,and I'd feel terribly nauseated. Repentance would come; I'd drive it away--it was too nauseating."
-F.Dostoevsky
I was hoping to write tonight but am suddenly overtaken with exhaustion. It's dress week and I just got home. The Breakfast Club will be a great show--incorporating film and stage acting. I have always wanted to do this--and it works well.
I had my chart read and can see the next year--all the good and bad-- lots of strange Plutonic occurrances similar to what happened when Pluto crossed Venus December 2002-September 2004. Lovely.
I won't make the same mistakes again though.
God, I am tired. Night
-F.Dostoevsky
I was hoping to write tonight but am suddenly overtaken with exhaustion. It's dress week and I just got home. The Breakfast Club will be a great show--incorporating film and stage acting. I have always wanted to do this--and it works well.
I had my chart read and can see the next year--all the good and bad-- lots of strange Plutonic occurrances similar to what happened when Pluto crossed Venus December 2002-September 2004. Lovely.
I won't make the same mistakes again though.
God, I am tired. Night
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