remembering
to feel the mystery
a little bit
every
day
it's times like these i wish i had a guitar
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
on boredom and what ensues
the rains are here and
soft animal bodies slow down, idle hands pick up books, and
this weekend i found myself bored to be idle bored to be breathing,
losing passion and excitement for small things--
what does a body used to being busy do with all this time,
when plants are going quiet and becca-goat's milk is drying up
and the animals are thinking of fucking and sleeping quiet
and the food is getting stored away for snowed-in days.
i forgot about this!
i forgot that when things get cold bodies get quiet too,
more thinking and planning and appreciating.
i meditated on boredom for an hour. then i looked at the leaves for a while.
this time of year they are beautiful here...green and red and yellow on the white oaks.
dancing in and out of oakmoss sculptured empires.
today i made fresh ravioli with squash & collard green filling and white sauce and navy bean soup and rice pilaf! we burned a big pile of wood, railroad bits and pieces of stuff and brush--a huge bonfire that went all day and we took turns tending. the first frosts have already come and much in the garden died with it though kale and chard are still goin strong. and the rains came! bringing some cold cold misery and some delight--the ground softening and wriggling a little in its descent toward sleep. no longer having to water baby trees and strawberries and the little ginseng plants that are struggling to make it in this strange unfamiliar climate. i had a slumber party with steve and ethan and we read some lewis carroll...other relationships are flourishing too, conversations with walt about patriarchy (always) and i led/mediated a convo about the gender roles/expectations folks were raised with (became mostly a convo about family structures, but definitely breaking ground-setting stage for future conversations).
i have also been thinking of
autonomy and independence, developing and having
chest surgery, talking to my parents about
clothes in urban/rural places, wearing and having feelings about
desiring and loving, differentiating between and embracing
families, creating chosen
fear, finding and routing out
friendships, nurturing sexual and divided-by-space-or-time and intimate
gender, initiating conversations about
hate and enmity, the value or lack of value of
"natural" "law," what is, if anything
quiet, allowing myself to be
shakers, gardening practices of the
sluthood, everything about
traveling, doing-being-becoming-planning
that is something,
i am feeling glad to be in the world today
glad you are too
soft animal bodies slow down, idle hands pick up books, and
this weekend i found myself bored to be idle bored to be breathing,
losing passion and excitement for small things--
what does a body used to being busy do with all this time,
when plants are going quiet and becca-goat's milk is drying up
and the animals are thinking of fucking and sleeping quiet
and the food is getting stored away for snowed-in days.
i forgot about this!
i forgot that when things get cold bodies get quiet too,
more thinking and planning and appreciating.
i meditated on boredom for an hour. then i looked at the leaves for a while.
this time of year they are beautiful here...green and red and yellow on the white oaks.
dancing in and out of oakmoss sculptured empires.
today i made fresh ravioli with squash & collard green filling and white sauce and navy bean soup and rice pilaf! we burned a big pile of wood, railroad bits and pieces of stuff and brush--a huge bonfire that went all day and we took turns tending. the first frosts have already come and much in the garden died with it though kale and chard are still goin strong. and the rains came! bringing some cold cold misery and some delight--the ground softening and wriggling a little in its descent toward sleep. no longer having to water baby trees and strawberries and the little ginseng plants that are struggling to make it in this strange unfamiliar climate. i had a slumber party with steve and ethan and we read some lewis carroll...other relationships are flourishing too, conversations with walt about patriarchy (always) and i led/mediated a convo about the gender roles/expectations folks were raised with (became mostly a convo about family structures, but definitely breaking ground-setting stage for future conversations).
i have also been thinking of
autonomy and independence, developing and having
chest surgery, talking to my parents about
clothes in urban/rural places, wearing and having feelings about
desiring and loving, differentiating between and embracing
families, creating chosen
fear, finding and routing out
friendships, nurturing sexual and divided-by-space-or-time and intimate
gender, initiating conversations about
hate and enmity, the value or lack of value of
"natural" "law," what is, if anything
quiet, allowing myself to be
shakers, gardening practices of the
sluthood, everything about
traveling, doing-being-becoming-planning
that is something,
i am feeling glad to be in the world today
glad you are too
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
scene:
a bike shop, late afternoon, almost closing
most of the kids are gone,
chris, the dreamy mechanic i've known visually since high school,
and i, are squatting on the ground
on either side of the wheel between us,
putting our best efforts into
unscrewing a rusty hub
salt n pepa ask
"can't you hear the music's pumpin hard like i wish you would?"
he moves the wheel to a vice
most of the kids are gone,
chris, the dreamy mechanic i've known visually since high school,
and i, are squatting on the ground
on either side of the wheel between us,
putting our best efforts into
unscrewing a rusty hub
salt n pepa ask
"can't you hear the music's pumpin hard like i wish you would?"
he moves the wheel to a vice
Saturday, October 16, 2010
notes from the frontlines
is anyone reading the twitterfeed i linked to at the bottom right of the page? it's mine. most of it is quotes of other people though.
i had a nerdy moment earlier thinking about our global currency fiat system as a networking protocol, and how the banking + goverment "users" have effectively "hacked" it. we need better security.
yeah, where was i: it's funny being so invested in the S.Q... i never thought i'd see the day where i'm making car payments and holding down two jobs and i can accept my mom's friend request on facebook and i only play guitar drunk.
i can feel these cute little punches of anger from inside, pointing out, like i'm about to birth a revolution.
except that's silly, i don't think my body can make a baby. in other news i've decided that i want to go to mime school. i need to practice and i think a little instruction would make it better. all these years of doing the stupid box routine where you pretend you're stuck in a box that only you can see and you bang your head against it and try to look through it and you can't get out - well i suddenly realized today that i'm not very good at delineating the box with my motions, so although from my perspective i'm in a box, from the outside i just look dumb.
this is all literal. i'm almost done with lolita. the last 50 pages are taking forever because i got caught up in a new comic book called DMZ put out by DC. it was a glorious waste of 4 hours. i read 53 comics. i'm up to date on the series. i'm hooked. i'll have to start watching tv again, if only to temper my addiction with something slightly less awesome that still satisfies the same urge to be entertained.
maybe you can tell that i'm in a weird late night existential mood, which has historically been very good for me trying to put my head on paper. ooo i think i'll go play guitar (sober).
anyway i miss all the friendly squids. we're still kicking it here at baohaus 2.0 but it's not the same. in some ways it's better because i've been building things out of twobys and ply every week for 2 months and the house looks like a plywood-gaudi masterpiece, but that's for another post.
lots of love
lelz
i had a nerdy moment earlier thinking about our global currency fiat system as a networking protocol, and how the banking + goverment "users" have effectively "hacked" it. we need better security.
yeah, where was i: it's funny being so invested in the S.Q... i never thought i'd see the day where i'm making car payments and holding down two jobs and i can accept my mom's friend request on facebook and i only play guitar drunk.
i can feel these cute little punches of anger from inside, pointing out, like i'm about to birth a revolution.
except that's silly, i don't think my body can make a baby. in other news i've decided that i want to go to mime school. i need to practice and i think a little instruction would make it better. all these years of doing the stupid box routine where you pretend you're stuck in a box that only you can see and you bang your head against it and try to look through it and you can't get out - well i suddenly realized today that i'm not very good at delineating the box with my motions, so although from my perspective i'm in a box, from the outside i just look dumb.
this is all literal. i'm almost done with lolita. the last 50 pages are taking forever because i got caught up in a new comic book called DMZ put out by DC. it was a glorious waste of 4 hours. i read 53 comics. i'm up to date on the series. i'm hooked. i'll have to start watching tv again, if only to temper my addiction with something slightly less awesome that still satisfies the same urge to be entertained.
maybe you can tell that i'm in a weird late night existential mood, which has historically been very good for me trying to put my head on paper. ooo i think i'll go play guitar (sober).
anyway i miss all the friendly squids. we're still kicking it here at baohaus 2.0 but it's not the same. in some ways it's better because i've been building things out of twobys and ply every week for 2 months and the house looks like a plywood-gaudi masterpiece, but that's for another post.
lots of love
lelz
topsoil is my prophet
"Then an old man, a keeper of an inn, said, Speak to us of Eating and Drinking.
And he said:
Would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth, and like an air plant be sustained by the light.
But since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship,
And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of the forest and plain are sacrificed for that which is purer and still more innocent in man.
When you kill a beast say to him in your heart,
"By the same power that slays you, I too am slain; and I too shall be consumed.
For the law that delivered you into my hand shall deliver me into a mightier hand.
Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tree of heaven."
And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart,
"Your seeds shall live in my body,
And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,
And your fragrance shall be my breath,
And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons."
And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyard for the winepress, say in your heart,
"I too am a vineyard, and my fruit shall be gathered for the winepress,
And like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels."
And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup;
And let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the winepress."
from "the prophet"
i love to hear your voices from afar! what pleasure, what warm reminders of our shared and overlapping and distantly tied worlds.
i am settling into the simple pleasures here--a jar full of warm goat milk, feeding the bunnies corn husks before i sit down to my oatmeal, farmer's cheese with bee balm flowers, cold cold hands while i strain the sprouted wheat for the chickens, tucking the beans and tomatoes in at night, wandering into the woods to find baby trees to water and talk to. my relationships with each person spiralling and growing in richness and depth as we skip from bare facts of our lives to the architecture of our dreams and desire,
small consensual touches and warmths, testaments to our humanness,
always pandora in the background (now sponsored by starbucks...?)
and golden sunrises and sunsets,
i am learning always to ask for help (opalyn, i'm not ready to twist off the head of a chicken yet...but i skinned a chicken yesterday, undressed this beautiful hermaphroditic silent bird without seduction but with solemnity and love and a thankfulness for my own fragile skin, contained blood, moments to live in the world.)
i am reminding myself always of how my body and mind are interwoven...
fighting anxiety with sun salutes,
finding peace in stacking firewood, wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of poop-straw (the most valuable of the ignoble resources), chopping, plucking, clipping,
khalil says "you work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.
for to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission toward the infinite.
...to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
...and what is it to work with love?
it is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
it is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
it is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
it is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
and to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
...work is love made visible."
we are redefining work!
as i move away from jobs, embrace the in-betweens of alleys, dumpsters, travelling, excess, closed loop systems, living from my labor,
i am finding my sanity and peace here in living in the service of life, flourishing in parallel to flourishing.
i have been here for a month! (today is windward's 33rd anniversary.) halfway through my time, stronger arms and heart, my body used to tiny pleasures and tears and small pains and love and missing--these things that never run out.
And he said:
Would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth, and like an air plant be sustained by the light.
But since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship,
And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of the forest and plain are sacrificed for that which is purer and still more innocent in man.
When you kill a beast say to him in your heart,
"By the same power that slays you, I too am slain; and I too shall be consumed.
For the law that delivered you into my hand shall deliver me into a mightier hand.
Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tree of heaven."
And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart,
"Your seeds shall live in my body,
And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,
And your fragrance shall be my breath,
And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons."
And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyard for the winepress, say in your heart,
"I too am a vineyard, and my fruit shall be gathered for the winepress,
And like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels."
And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup;
And let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the winepress."
from "the prophet"
i love to hear your voices from afar! what pleasure, what warm reminders of our shared and overlapping and distantly tied worlds.
i am settling into the simple pleasures here--a jar full of warm goat milk, feeding the bunnies corn husks before i sit down to my oatmeal, farmer's cheese with bee balm flowers, cold cold hands while i strain the sprouted wheat for the chickens, tucking the beans and tomatoes in at night, wandering into the woods to find baby trees to water and talk to. my relationships with each person spiralling and growing in richness and depth as we skip from bare facts of our lives to the architecture of our dreams and desire,
small consensual touches and warmths, testaments to our humanness,
always pandora in the background (now sponsored by starbucks...?)
and golden sunrises and sunsets,
i am learning always to ask for help (opalyn, i'm not ready to twist off the head of a chicken yet...but i skinned a chicken yesterday, undressed this beautiful hermaphroditic silent bird without seduction but with solemnity and love and a thankfulness for my own fragile skin, contained blood, moments to live in the world.)
i am reminding myself always of how my body and mind are interwoven...
fighting anxiety with sun salutes,
finding peace in stacking firewood, wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of poop-straw (the most valuable of the ignoble resources), chopping, plucking, clipping,
khalil says "you work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.
for to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission toward the infinite.
...to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
...and what is it to work with love?
it is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
it is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
it is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
it is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
and to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
...work is love made visible."
we are redefining work!
as i move away from jobs, embrace the in-betweens of alleys, dumpsters, travelling, excess, closed loop systems, living from my labor,
i am finding my sanity and peace here in living in the service of life, flourishing in parallel to flourishing.
i have been here for a month! (today is windward's 33rd anniversary.) halfway through my time, stronger arms and heart, my body used to tiny pleasures and tears and small pains and love and missing--these things that never run out.
towards season's end
How delicious to see these blog posts and recipes!
Wrist exercises have become routine; as has chair-sitting, dreaming, bewilderingly enthusiastic twenty questions games riled up on caffeine to spice up the monotony, the arguments about music (often Israeli now, with the introduction of Amir into our community-- but punctuated by Deep Forest and Freedom and reggae) reggae reggae
ohhhh my goddess! pumpkin coconut soup. Hadas did it again.
Can I get some more bud buddies, Felicia?
When I was sitting on the shitter this morning....
some new music for the new generation!
snatches, repeated. we are growing closer and learning more about each other as we sit. I admire how Shane picks up after everybody, collects the eggs, quietly. I try to do the same.
Can't wait until we're working outside again! Push through, should be less than a week now.
(Brown rice, chopped almonds, raisins, and caramelized onions)
(Dates, corn flakes, sunflower seeds, flax)
(Breathlessly uphill)
Monday, October 11, 2010
boomerang
summer, the season of exercising the power
the steam
the jet streaming light
that you are, that you've become
aglow in your fury...
two and a half months of 74 days of so many waking moments
of where am i? what am i? how will i make it to tonight?
landscapes a blur of urban cradles, mazey mountains,
skirting the city at night, pant pant not stopping to look back
run to the mountains only to make it out of the forest, onto a clear-skied peak
look a distance
and suddenly decide to jump, landing back in city dumpster -- what!
constant migration,
all heads attuned to the wind
and all noses noticing rain
everyday a question
some nights, in the trance induced by dark and slurs and stars, an answer
funny how we wait for it too
maybe tonight will be the one
the moon the musician, look how we dance
take one of these, look at me in the morning
hi
flash forward, turn the page
enter stage south, back in the city
except san francisco is not what it used to be
the growing pains have already started
my furs
and feathers
are growing in
my eyes more designed to see in the dark
are we so domesticated like our own pups that we'd not stand a chance at a night in the wild?
not i said the fox
this time we survive
happy birthday
welcome to your life
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