Birds and Lions

Still questioning -
In part because of life....but also because this is the "questions" time of the new work process.

If each choice in life was a flat, rounded river rock... where would it fit best under your feet?

What does it really mean to know what you want?

There was a while in life where I was quite convinced that if I felt I knew what would happen, if I could see it in my mind - then that was exactly what wouldn't happen. At that point it occurred to me that what you want should not be limited by your imagination.
Since our imaginings are only what we have seen, or read, or experienced, or can fantasize about.... all of those, even to their highest extreme, are not as boundless as life's possibilities.

For instance "If you can dream it, you can become it" - what if that stems from something a bit less fabulous and more wordy like
"If you've thought of it it's probably because you are capable of it so shut up and go for it."
Less fantastic and heroic yes, but it has a ring of truth to it...no?
Anyway, it's just a thought.

I have dreams of flight.
The first dream of flight I can remember is combined with falling down the stairs in the farmhouse I grew up in.
I was pretty little. I was still having dreams with my favorite blanket involved. (Leo. He was shaped like a lion.)

In the dream, I was attempting a luge-like maneuver via Leo.
(Don't try this at home...stairs don't work like a luge track. Considering the late discovery of this fact, I got lucky.)
As Leo and I bumped down the first set of stairs and came around the corner to take on the final, much longer set..... we took flight.
Ok, yes we were still inside, going down the stairs.....
but the bumpy ride had suddenly stopped, yet we were still going.
It was a gentle, swooping decent down that staircase.

in

Sat in a room last night with 6 other art makers and life questioners.

I had to leave early.

But it was so worth it for a small step towards
a simple practice of community and support.

Flight

I remember now.
I dance.
I was reminded by taking the lovely Alex Beller's
class this afternoon at DNA.

I even remembered why -

Because it feels good dammit.

(photo by Larry White)

Dime

What is intimacy beyond touch?

Why is it so satisfying to be alone, yet in other moments feel like you might shatter from loneliness?

What are you are standing on, and how much of it was a conscious decision to have it be there?

Random Facts of a Personal Nature

I believe there is freedom in stability. I'm still practicing.

I am a trustworthy individual with voracious and inconsistant appetites.

My sense of self image is as changeable and variant as a cocaine addled druggie's moods.

I have loyal crushes.
My first one was on a boy that started in First Grade, I stayed crushed until Sixth Grade.
Don't expect my affection to fade.

I love metaphysical and emotional poetry...
I usually hate poetry about nature.
(there is no link because it is so judgemental and general a statement.)

I believe Mary Oliver expresses my wishes perfectly at the end of "When Death Comes":

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

photo by Tom Grenon....

various

After a couple of quiet weekdays of being able to be a bit spoiled and spend time on an application, while getting laundry done and managing to fit in a nap
I wonder at my huge sadnesses of the weekend.

and I wonder if it has as much to do with vulnerability and joy as it does with sadness.

I'm experiencing the kind of sadness that sits dormant for a bit, and then isn't. At all.

I'm thinking about a piece based on flight and decisions.
the freedom in having a solid base to take flight from.
***********************************************************
wondering what happens to the mind when everything that was once solid is no longer.
when a life partner of 60 years disappears.....carried away by a blinking truck
until he is next seen still in a strangly shaped bed.
Nothing is real unless Sinatra is singing.
He that always fixed and measured is gone,
left next to his space is the she that cleaned up afterwards...
she is cleaning
too much...
repeated motions...a lifetime of repeated motions.
Comfort in repetition.
***************************************************

And we are all taking up the same amount of space we always have, while life keeps shifting the playing ground.

Pro-cras.tiN...a.a.a-tion

Does anyone else hear the song "Anticipation" by Carly Simon
when you say the word procrastination?


hmm.
Interesting.
Well,
I do.






For instance, tonight. I heard it often.




Like when I sat down to write
many answers to many questions on a residency application due in 2 weeks.
or
When I sat down again to write a little about how amazing the moon looks tonight -












I found that instead I was tweaking and designing on Zazzle.....
here
Whoops.
Pro-cras.tiN.a.a.tion....