The night is alive and the trees swing deliriously back and forth to their own crazy melody.
Cats and dogs hide in my bed, while the tap tap tapping of my computer keeps time with the fan in the window. Pushing cooling crazy weather into my room.
I am open to being a professional writer. I will start wherever. I have faith in the words I write and thats alot. I worry about my stomach still thinking there is a babe cooking in there but the words, yes the words.
Early morning quick day start for me. I perform best under pressure late at night.
Speaking of which nano starts November 1st. I am on it. Writing screenplays, my own thing. I make words happen.
Ok!
"As Long As You WANT It, You Can't Have It. Be It. And It's YOURS."
That makes sense. Stop banging your head against the wall of want and just sit there and think of whatever it is (being a employed freelance writer living in California) picture yourself doing it.
Last night I turned off the light early for me as I was overcome with this soft yet intense feeling of love. I lay there seeing this intense wonderful being who is just mine and lovely in my presence.
It felt write.
Let us all go towards what feels right.
Don't go peeking around the past unless thats where you want to be.
Adventures to the front, promise.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Some things
Sunday night again. Last Sunday night I was with my youngest at the hospital for her sleep study. She did really well and as soon as I get an acceptable photo editing program on this new Mac I will post some photos of her. Sad sad sad to see your little one in a hospital bed. She LOVED it though.
Ofcourse she has sleep apnea. I have known it and her Dad has denied it for years. I can't go back in the past and over ride his shit so I am going to move forward.
Today is the 3rd anniversary of our house fire. Here is a photo
:
Shudder.
Our laundry room destroyed. Severe smoke damage all over the house. I thought that we had alot of spider webs. They weren't actually spider webs. They were melted plastic floating around. I thought that was pretty cool.
Gotta end with something positive and bright. Halloween 2008 - theme - Nightmare Before Christmas. The coolest prop we had was a fogger that also blew fogger bubbles. It was mesmerizing. This year is my nephew Trevors first Halloween! This week I am going to paint my pumpkin. I got one that is skeleton face shaped. We'll see what I come up with.
Ofcourse she has sleep apnea. I have known it and her Dad has denied it for years. I can't go back in the past and over ride his shit so I am going to move forward.
Today is the 3rd anniversary of our house fire. Here is a photo
:
Shudder.
Our laundry room destroyed. Severe smoke damage all over the house. I thought that we had alot of spider webs. They weren't actually spider webs. They were melted plastic floating around. I thought that was pretty cool.
Gotta end with something positive and bright. Halloween 2008 - theme - Nightmare Before Christmas. The coolest prop we had was a fogger that also blew fogger bubbles. It was mesmerizing. This year is my nephew Trevors first Halloween! This week I am going to paint my pumpkin. I got one that is skeleton face shaped. We'll see what I come up with.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Dear 1
Dear Myself,
How are you? I hope this letter finds you well, because babe, you haven't been. While in retrospect, falling down and cracking your head on a dogcage is funny, its not one of those things you should be waking up in the middle of the night after a particularly intoxicating dream of uniforms and full relases and laughing about, then forgetting why you woke up.
Forgetting names for common things is also a bad sign.
Also, did you see how long that sentence went on? You can only be a great writer and do e.e. cummings shit once you have mastered the language.
You look like Meatloaf with the crack in the head in Rocky Horror Picture Show. Without all the bloating.
Remember the other day at the YMCA when you stood in the elevator for atleast a minute, thinking the elevator is moving, thinking you have pressed the down button (because the knee hates stairs) but in the realy real world, you have simply pressed the 'close door' button.
You should go see your doctor. It should only take 2 or so hours, bring a pillow. And to get weighed by the fully mustached nurse? What isn't to like.
Remember when doctors gave out suckers aka lollipops? Confusing signals indeed.
Two day old iced tea will perk you up, but will it ever make you happy? The same goes with food. Eat to live, not live to eat. Yes I saw the Taco Bell wrappers. Yes I know you have lost weight and inches.
Is any day a good day to get your new drivers license with hideous photo in the mail? It is not.
Cleaning the livingroom and breaking in the new MAC is not the way to fulfillment.
Remember how peaceful you feel when you just let go and let the pain and sadness fall down into the magma underneath the earths crust and let the dreams and intentions float up to the stars and whomever lives up there. Goddess, Jesus, Lakshmi?
You get to go to Los Angeles and Venice Beach and see the ocean and wear cool clothes and meet atleast one cool person, Francesca Lia Block. Maybe she can tell you something you haven't thought of.
How are you? I hope this letter finds you well, because babe, you haven't been. While in retrospect, falling down and cracking your head on a dogcage is funny, its not one of those things you should be waking up in the middle of the night after a particularly intoxicating dream of uniforms and full relases and laughing about, then forgetting why you woke up.
Forgetting names for common things is also a bad sign.
Also, did you see how long that sentence went on? You can only be a great writer and do e.e. cummings shit once you have mastered the language.
You look like Meatloaf with the crack in the head in Rocky Horror Picture Show. Without all the bloating.
Remember the other day at the YMCA when you stood in the elevator for atleast a minute, thinking the elevator is moving, thinking you have pressed the down button (because the knee hates stairs) but in the realy real world, you have simply pressed the 'close door' button.
You should go see your doctor. It should only take 2 or so hours, bring a pillow. And to get weighed by the fully mustached nurse? What isn't to like.
Remember when doctors gave out suckers aka lollipops? Confusing signals indeed.
Two day old iced tea will perk you up, but will it ever make you happy? The same goes with food. Eat to live, not live to eat. Yes I saw the Taco Bell wrappers. Yes I know you have lost weight and inches.
Is any day a good day to get your new drivers license with hideous photo in the mail? It is not.
Cleaning the livingroom and breaking in the new MAC is not the way to fulfillment.
Remember how peaceful you feel when you just let go and let the pain and sadness fall down into the magma underneath the earths crust and let the dreams and intentions float up to the stars and whomever lives up there. Goddess, Jesus, Lakshmi?
You get to go to Los Angeles and Venice Beach and see the ocean and wear cool clothes and meet atleast one cool person, Francesca Lia Block. Maybe she can tell you something you haven't thought of.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Cathedral
I walked into his cathedral, limping. Banged and bruised, inside and out. Hair mussed, curls hanging up and down and a large orange butterfly clipped into the madness. Leopard print cane supporting my gimp knee, slow steps, we found our seats. I said 'J' for Jewish and we all laughed. Well I did. Sitting at row Jewish, I began to get nervous. Nervous for this old man about to creak out onto the stage, nervous for my expectations which are always high and never ever within reach. I looked at the Goddesses on the walls, butterflies too and I knew I was in good company. Golden and serene, taking it all in, perplexing humanity spreading out among the seats. I have been alone in my love for his music for years. What a treat to be among fan boys and girls.
At the appointed time the band began, the players so deeply good in the knowledge of their instrument, aged and smiling. I smiled too. On the end of my seat is where I first saw him. Old but not creaking, he skipped to the microphone and launched into one of my favorites, he knelt at the guitar player and sang. The music swirled tenderly through the air and I took deep breaths to bring it into me. It was one of those sacred times when there is no time, nothing more then music and the man with the golden voice singing his prayers, bowing respectfully to his band. Joking and full of life at 74. I had no idea that a person could still be enthralled with life at that age. My expectation was that life begins to leak out sometime around 60 or in my case, 37.
I began to feel illuminated in his presence, my tank empty began to fill. The songs that kept me above water on dark nights blessed me, again and again. I was not healed but close.
When he sang 'Forget your perfect offerings, there is a crack, a crack in everything – thats how the light gets in.' I cried. I cried for me and for you and Leonard. I have cracks and no spackle my pain bleeds out my eyeballs and I know what you mean when you call yourself the snowman.
A woman behind me screamed “Marry me Leonard!” She is completely serious. There are many I love yous, tossed from all around the cathedral. I reach out with my heart to him, I offer him many years of life and love that endures. I ask him, in my head and heart to never die. Most songs got standing ovations, he smiled out at us. The house lights would come up a lot so he could properly see us.
It was a sitting kinda concert so I danced sitting in my seat. The music swirling as I mentioned before, somehow a deeper poignancy in the words, his voice deeper, richer with age. At moments, I find myself with my arms out, palms up offering and receiving. Borrowing the intensity and sincere love that flows from his music. I am in a trance, fully taken, open to receive. 'We may be ugly but, we got the music.' Exactly.
That night at the end of the show, he thanked everyone, even the caterers, he bowed to his backup singers, the stage hands, the truckers. A full bow too, none of those quickie bows. 3 hours of playing, 3 encores, it was time to go.
He said, “We don't know when we'll be back.” I cried. I was full of his honesty and beauty. The years were not always kind but they were his. He relishes them and grows, still grows.
At the appointed time the band began, the players so deeply good in the knowledge of their instrument, aged and smiling. I smiled too. On the end of my seat is where I first saw him. Old but not creaking, he skipped to the microphone and launched into one of my favorites, he knelt at the guitar player and sang. The music swirled tenderly through the air and I took deep breaths to bring it into me. It was one of those sacred times when there is no time, nothing more then music and the man with the golden voice singing his prayers, bowing respectfully to his band. Joking and full of life at 74. I had no idea that a person could still be enthralled with life at that age. My expectation was that life begins to leak out sometime around 60 or in my case, 37.
I began to feel illuminated in his presence, my tank empty began to fill. The songs that kept me above water on dark nights blessed me, again and again. I was not healed but close.
When he sang 'Forget your perfect offerings, there is a crack, a crack in everything – thats how the light gets in.' I cried. I cried for me and for you and Leonard. I have cracks and no spackle my pain bleeds out my eyeballs and I know what you mean when you call yourself the snowman.
A woman behind me screamed “Marry me Leonard!” She is completely serious. There are many I love yous, tossed from all around the cathedral. I reach out with my heart to him, I offer him many years of life and love that endures. I ask him, in my head and heart to never die. Most songs got standing ovations, he smiled out at us. The house lights would come up a lot so he could properly see us.
It was a sitting kinda concert so I danced sitting in my seat. The music swirling as I mentioned before, somehow a deeper poignancy in the words, his voice deeper, richer with age. At moments, I find myself with my arms out, palms up offering and receiving. Borrowing the intensity and sincere love that flows from his music. I am in a trance, fully taken, open to receive. 'We may be ugly but, we got the music.' Exactly.
That night at the end of the show, he thanked everyone, even the caterers, he bowed to his backup singers, the stage hands, the truckers. A full bow too, none of those quickie bows. 3 hours of playing, 3 encores, it was time to go.
He said, “We don't know when we'll be back.” I cried. I was full of his honesty and beauty. The years were not always kind but they were his. He relishes them and grows, still grows.
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