bumble

oh that privileged minute of space where i get to say
"i have nothing to do! i don't know what's going on yet!"
and projects and ideas spring out of the wet sidewalk.
portland has left quite a series of first impressions...
wet socks
wet tops of thighs pants
yellow leaves! red leaves!
more energy than i've ever had in my life i think!
local beers! soft kind of fuzzy widespread liberalism!
("hating our kind of people just isn't politically correct here.")
buzzing magic energy clean houses mild anger small-town city
or maybe the opposite and bridges out the wazoo
i build little structures of layered wicker to smile out of while i ride my bike
because--this thing of cities--how you can't see everyone all at once, how there are too many stories, how that makes me sad sometimes, how that brings such richness and possibility too.
i had put out this desire to be a clown-theatre-maker and it is happening here,
good folks doing that work
skipping biking stretching singing simple but absurd...
manifestos forthcoming.

okay, okay, i haven't been writing for a while. i have yet to think about writing a story of my time with the fairies and still figuring out how to speak in a language resonant with where i'm making decisions and feeling the world in my body these days. (today, my stomach, mostly.) i am not sure i am always right. i feel like i'm balancing on a couple tightropes. but also that the world around is generally soft and wet and alive. so i think i will live here for a while, find a house and start fermenting.

check