Tuesday, October 26

Breast Cancer

It seems I have made a practice of being inconsistent. I dislike this. Waiting is getting old, real fast. Maybe this sentence will give my inability to move a heart attack. I feel whole again. And this is a direct result of me letting the people I trust, see me enough to let trust be an action, instead of a theory.

Hate is such a mixed shower of acid rain and bath salts. Shuffling thoughts felt good, but the real aces were eventually lost.
Enter: The Joker
Enter: The Fool

Music has given me life again. Music and soul searching over a Black and Mild. I have had two shows that happened, and went alright in the past two weeks. But I chalk them up as yet more marks in the "L" column, because they could have been better, but were not due to my inaction. I am not keeping up with the standard. Not "The Standard", "My Standard". This pattern of lowering my game and playing "down" to the minor ripples I am facing needs to stop. Its funny how communing with memories pushes me to make now better. Or maybe it is just funny that I havent been doing this ceremony of self check in on a regular basis.

The combination of sheer artistry that was Wicked, and this past sunday in Spring Awakening has shaken the ashes from these pheonix feathers. The critical discussion of technique and accomplishment has sparked a new fire.

Early October helped me realize the importance of temperance. Deprivation isn't strength, actions with reason behind them are. On a related note, I am done partying. Celebrating mediocracy will no longer be tolerated.

The hibernating animal is no longer dormant.
Enter The sound and the Fury: Stage Right

It is time.


"You cant change the game if you dont know the score"

Friday, October 1

Point Blank: Still Blank

When the winds blow dust in the air, ones first impulse is to close both eyes, and wait.

If I have one fatal flaw, it is my ability to wait- with eyes urgently held shut, stockpiling the expectation that things will get better. You could say I am insane in that respect. I wouldn't argue with you. I would simply close my ears and wait for your opinion to suddenly change.

I haven't had a cigarette in three days. It hasn't been as difficult as the times before. Maybe smoke isn't necessary when you are drowning. Everything else is rearing its ugly head and becoming... sudden, sullen, and all too urgent. Almost got evicted the other day. That was not fun. And because of that and everything else, I have been hiding. Waiting.

Its all a balancing act of calendars now. Just waiting and not waiting. Juggling problems and days. Days juggling problems. Someday I might land. But only time will tell.

"Let it go this too shall pass."

Tuesday, August 24

"Sleep, those little slices of death; Oh how I loathe them." -Edgar

My fingers are trembling under the weight of this keyboard.

Each keystroke is a betrayal of a memory that could not hope to be described in words. So I'll just say I am so grateful for every day, and every moment. Moreso than money or emotional bonds that we may forge with people, I believe that time is the most valuable commodity we have nestled in our fingertips or internal organs. Every second spent with a person is a second freely given and received. So happy 12:07pm on Tuesday August 2010. I hope the day finds you with a grin brewing in your skin.

Hawaii/Vegas/Nevada City/Madison/England/Madison/Hawaii/Madison

Watching my four nephews grow up has been by far the most spectacular ongoing event in the history of the world. Sorry primordial soup, stem cell research, and lolcats. Maybe next time.

Excluding stints at school in Utah and Wisconsin, I have lived in the same home my entire life. And now the action of coming back to Madison, having committed my life to this place, is both infinitely daunting and full of overwhelming joy. I really brought home with me this time. More moments given. More yet to be received.

Nor is the sea done with me. The tempests have different faces. Even though their rumblings are heard over the horizon they have the hideous habit and a sooty predisposition to sneak. I escape these witch trials alive, but not unscathed. The winds subside for now. But the sky is still an ink sink. I can smell this specific sneak thief as clean as rain. No physical description as of yet. Don't hold your breath.

But that being said I am still here. After everything this summer saying that is an accomplishment. I have found out that resting on your laurels will leave you rusted and cracked. It seems like something that I already should have learned, but hearing and knowing are different.

"We are the miracle of force and matter making itself over into imagination and will. Incredible. The Life Force experimenting with forms. You for one. Me for another. The Universe has shouted itself alive. We are one of the shouts."
-Ray Bradbury

What a choir.

And here is little Oli. The New Edition. He will be singing Candy Girl in no time.

Nicely Nicely.


Thursday, January 21

You know I Used to be a Fighter

Im pretty skeptical about this "growing up" thing, but Im growing somewhere. Maybe "in". Hopefully. Maybe just "away". I wonder if away is a compartment within "in." But this is just rabble. I am moving. And I suppose not all movement is growth, its just what you make it. I broke up with the snow before I left for winter break... But its been moping around Madison refusing to move on. Or maybe thats me. Who knows? I do. But Im in denial so it wont do anyone much good.

In related news another year has come and gone. No internal fireworks this year. Thats good. I started out this revolution as a nurse instead of a baby. Something to think about. Much more has become things to think about. But nothing has changed. I guess Im just growing. But we seem to be going in circles now. My apologies.

The new semester is going well. Classes are... classes. But they seem to be good. All the plans have changed. Morphed into something that can only be described as.... else. Elsewhere, else... everything. Comes with the rover territory I suppose. Which if you think about it is... nowhere. I never knew nowhere had a description, or maybe I did but Im finally brave enough to admit it.

Bravery. Thats a good one.


Wednesday, August 12

Stride Out

This is what my coach recommended when running down hills.

Stride out.
I am nearing the bottom
My feet are weary, now that the longer legs of the journey are past
There are a lot of things that don't add up
just yet.
I am hanging in the air between strides
searching for whatever soil will support me
Seesawing over my soles
This rolling back of gravity is what I can count on
Keeps me on the ground
These upstarting hooves want to fly
I only learned how to stride with the wind.
To keep pace with a ghost
To run trials with a dirt devil
This is a competition of self
Of kicking legs outward
and seeing how long it takes
to fall.

Friday, July 24



This summer has been an experience so far. I am unsure of how it is looking yet. I'm taking 12 credits right now.... And I just realized how weary I am. Sometimes I feel like my body has stiffened into a giant whetstone and every fiber of hair on my skin is a short fuse.

I dont mean to be so volatile. Its not something I am proud of. But if backed into a corner, I think you would turn your body into a wall as well. I dont know where I am moving anymore. This was supposed to be a journey but Im reverting back to my calligraphy of low points. The valleys are the only points on this map you need to see. Remiss.

I still have a lot to learn. Lately I have been letting my old self get the better of me. I think. I think I wish I knew myself better. I wish I could just exist for myself.

Thursday, May 7

Sprint the Ocean, Sail the Land

The flags of my latest coordinates would follow a single pulse spike, or a cycle from a music conductor.
Your choice.

4,739 miles outside of myself I found something.

I cant even begin to count the inventory of gifts I took away. Call it dowry for the day and minute marriages. An hiding tatoo that lingers if you are watching the wavelengths. Eyes flickering, tongues singing. I cannot catalogue the changes I have internalized. Even the wayward boomerangs are harping towards home.

Make like a snake if you want to know what I mean.
Go anywhere and leave your skin behind.
Be not solid.
Be not vision.

Be open...

And try not to shake the world such a violent accident when you find it cradled in your finger tips.