passing back through in november

okay, i went back to school (twice, maybe three times) and i missed you! and i remembered what i forgot, forgot what i remembered, and came back to visit.
i wanted to tell you about how i spit recently, in a rehearsal room;
i wanted to tell you about the deep feelings of failure i wrestle with;
and about how i went into the woods and then came out to think about the woods.
there's so much i want to tell you!
i took a class last year on art as political change, like this: http://artaspoliticalchange.blogspot.ca/
i have seen a thousand thousand things since i have seen your faces
i have gotten lost a hundred times.
maybe getting lost is my artistic practice.
maybe i'm not lost at all.

i wanted to tell you about how my mom is getting older, and my grandmother has dementia,
and i made a solo performance piece about how i asked my grandmother about slavery in our family history because i am trying to think and fight my way through whiteness and my own personal history, how whiteness happened to us and to whom i owe reparations yet somehow also acknowledging an inherent worth...anyway, i made a piece about it.
i wanted to tell you that i am living in toronto! in a second-floor apartment that isn't a commune, but it's nice, and it's above a vacuum cleaner store.

i wanted to tell you about my dreams and how i'm scared of getting older and i'm a kid forever and i have like these waves of nostalgia and i also try to thank my way to falling in love with the world just about every day, or every week
i'm taking a break from falling in love with a person; i have fallen so hard so many times and for now i am flying solo and it is strange and different;
i'm reading papers on queer ecology and books with titles like "why we dance" (ha) and "research theatre: the ecocide casebook." i'm studying performance ethnography--like how to know people by making performance with/about them. i'm reminded heuristically of my obsession with communalism and my love for making things with friends.
i notice being older! like, seeing people in their early 20's and i'm not there!
that is another post.
i made a zine about being 28; but i think i lost it. now i'm 29!

things i still love: cooking, love, patches, edges, exploring, laughing, sitting on the kitchen floor
things i'm trying out: graduate school, institutional affiliation, living closer to my parents, menu plans, making soup stock and freezing it, having a smart phone, not going to therapy, being 'single', cycling back to posting on this blog.

Two Saturdays ago, I woke up in a Nebraska gorge, found a sun-kissed spot for morning salutes, ate subsistence PB&J, and then drove out of the cornfields and into the mountains.

Last Saturday began with a sunrise set at the hookah dome, bare feet kicking the dust and then a cuddle-for-warmth walk to the temple. Therapeutic flying on the walk home, naps in the hammock, steam bath, bananas foster miniature burn to prepare for the big one, the man, manic tornadoes rising up a dust storm, bike ride-hopping from dance party to dance party to soft flesh in a deep playa movie theater, hours from the city, huddling for warmth until the next sailboat sunrise.

This saturday I woke up in my old room, ate oatmeal and echinacea and lingered around my parent's roofless skeletal home. opened the laptop: researching the movement scene and hot springs to explore around LA. I hear jalapeno/cayenne/garlic/onion/ginger/vodka/vinegar concoctions are good for colds.

mindblown. meeting travelers makes me never want to stop traveling.

well, after burning man I drove lindsey (acro-yogi and beauty extroardinare) and andrew (fruit-picker/tree-planter/perfect partner if he weren't off seeking warmth in australia) to san francisco where we decompressed a bit. found some ginseng in chinatown and kissed andrew goodbye to drive across the golden gate bridge and up to hopstown, once producer of 80% of the nation's hops. mendocino county is a nexus for beer, pot, and wine.... jason described its population as rich hippies, rich off their herby intoxicating victuals. maybe, maybe, but what I saw was a lot of hard workers. precise scientific compost recipes, firewood collection for what's gonna be a cold winter, garden-tending, duck-hunting. 7 am to sundown getting er dunn.

in LA for a week now to heal my body from burning man's psychedelic spin, see the family and Flora, and gather some warm clothes. October will be a festive and busy time on the farm. I'm nervous but open. switching gears from partying to digging holes. I like that everyone is really invested in getting along with each other since it's such a small group of people and we have to work together to get things done. yeah, what fulfillment. what yummy grapes.

missin all you squids scattered around farms and cities. especially missing chicago. love