November 2008
1 post
…if you surrendered to the air, you could ride it… toni morrison
October 2008
3 posts
…we must imagine sisyphus happy
..hum or growl underground
give me half an hour to draw the pyramids, ezekiell…
my feet are stone cold…
…difference is that raw and powerful connection from which our personal power is forged…
-audre lorde
September 2008
1 post
…grief rocks
August 2008
3 posts
brief conversation
…i’m looking for sympathy. ….can i call you back?
and the foregrounds out of focus but you know I kinda hope its ….just a phase.
…protect me from throwing any part of myself away…
a. lorde
July 2008
9 posts
. ..
..denying her wounds…came from the same source as her power…
…live your way into the answers…
..sometimes we walk on eggshells like its our yellow-brick-road…we resent that we journey on this path of various shades of brown and white crackling shells…who put them there and where’s toto?.. toto!…when walked on (skipped on or danced on)…eggshells crack, make noise and are messy at best…no place for ruby red slippers….still walking on them is a...
“When we speak
We are afraid
Our words will not be heard nor welcomed.
But when we are silent,
We are still afraid.
So it is better to speak.”
a. lorde
…empowerment sneaks up on you from underneath, from nowhere…and then…there is no doubt and no choice but to take care, finally, of you…
…this wasn’t just plain terrible, this was fancy terrible. this was terrible with raisins in it…
d. parker
…getting off the phone in the middle of my words is feels like rejection… not worthy enough to have thoughts completed…and therefor heard…this has always been something to trace backwards with an eye on now…and it would seem at times that i have not the resources to navigate effectively…there is and there is not…safe…
June 2008
13 posts
helpless…is understanding that things just are the way they are…grief…is watching the way things are define a once important connection as fading away…
…there are people that i miss who are right next to me and i wonder who’s shield is causing the disconnect, mine or theirs…why do insecurities breed evaluations through a foggy lense?.. why is grief such a physically painful experience even as it lingers?..what is the needed action from this point to that? is there something useful behind the paralysis of questions?…i miss...
when drowning…relax…floating results
…where is the excitement in the collision, the blurring, the soot of memory in the contemporary, (post)modern, the artists?… pick me up and turn me there…
what is integrity?..
… i keep on not wanting to know what i know — there keep being things i absolutely don’t want to know, and must know…
…circling around the point, long dead and stinking up the place…
betrayal always feels unexpected… though there are always signs
t(h)ere is no separation between body and mind…
.reconnect..
..grateful.
…sometimes there are too many steps from sitting to standing
May 2008
27 posts
potential is political
…want brings about wait brings about want brings about…
you fit into me like a hook and an eye a fish hook an open eye -m. atwood
when hearing an old song played currently we not only remember our former selves but the remembering itself has to do with our bodies reverting to old neuro-patterns.. sometimes these memories remind of us of what it feels like to be gushgush and sometimes…for me…i have to fight through the muck of my 18 year old self…
i can choose to show time by writing it literally in each post or by denoting time of day via words. though the posts show in the order they were written they do not give understanding of the spaces/time in between. i find meaning there…
sometimes i wake up awash in grief gnashing (gently) at my innards
courageous vulnerability, i know i just read this somewhere..or did someone say this to me recently? regardless, great phrase…i usually consider this something one has or doesn’t within their most intimate of relationships - where strength is yes? it is one thing to be vulnerable around someone else, hard enough, yes, but to allow this same vulnerability in the presence of only...
mistakes, whether they actually belong to you or no, never feel as though they just happen in a trickle… instead they accumulate quickly like an avalanche followed by an eerie silence. …(it sure is quiet)
i wonder if there is anything quite as difficult as watching the unraveling of a friend -especially when the individual has an unapologetic grip on arrogance. it seems like the road forward is about letting go.
what does grief look like? once i had a therapist who asked me to draw what my emotions looked like…grief, shame, anger, etc., they all have evidence of body.
today i watched from my desk as the rest of my body anxiously scurried from one triage to the next. i don’t even know how i’m typing this. i’m just a head.