He's worked on fighter jets, but he's all lover, and life with him is going Mach 3.2
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Risk
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Evolving 101
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Pro choice
An obvious choice, a "right" choice, can manifest into something you never planned for, never envisioned and never wanted. A "wrong" choice, a reckless choice, can turn into something that wakes you up and sets you free. Regardless whether we label them "right" or "wrong," our choices will eventually transcend belief and perception, and become the design of our lives.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Thoughts in real time
Saturday, October 03, 2009
The garden
When a woman makes love, has she given something away, did she share something sacred, is she taken and returned, worshiped and exposed?When a woman makes love, is she angel or whore, does she walk in dirt across a sunlit street, or is it all part of the same path?
Jesus, Buddha, Allah, legalize, criticize, until death do you part or love the one you're with--because all of it's true, and none of it's true, so we just try to take care.
Friday, October 02, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Facebook & forget
When I was 16, I had a mad crush on a college boy. I never forgot him, not because he was particularly handsome or especially sweet, but because I bought two tickets for us to see Cheap Trick, and then gave him the tickets to hold. The day of the concert, I waited hours for him to pick me up, but he never did. When I called his house, his brother told me he had gone to the show with someone else.Today, thirty years later, the boy befriended me on facebook, and what a laugh I had when I read a comment on his wall--a friend accusing him of pulling a no-show!
So glad time heals all wounds and God knows, even my bad memories are becoming good ones.
In my dreams
Last night I dreamed a man I recently met found me standing on the corner. He was smiling and sweet, and we started talking beside the mailbox. After a while, I noticed he had only one eye. There was no gap where the other eye should have been, just smooth skin, and as he spoke I was thinking he might look cute with a patch.Suddenly and abruptly he said, "I have to go!" I looked at him and said, "No you don't, you don't have to go."
Monday, September 28, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Thoughts in real time
Other than my motorcycle boots and my Converse, I never know what kind of casual shoes to wear in the daytime.Taking guitar lessons is proving to be transformative.
Why does "Transformative" come up as incorrectly spelled?
I'm constantly amazed by how careful people are.
I wish I were boarding a plane tomorrow.
I guess I do cry a lot, but really, I'm just deeply moved a lot.
Feelings, words, and declarations are gifts, but no one is here taking care of me.
Dirty kitchen.
Look how my daughter rolled up the toothpaste so nice. Look at the person I've raised.
Wow, it's late.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Thoughts in real time
To avoid the mundane, I lie to myself in some way every day. It must be exhausting, all the effort, all the energy my young friends use to appear disinterested in each other. They are all so guarded and fragile. Wouldn't it be nice if they could free themselves now instead of twenty years from now?
The tattoo was the most extreme thing I could do in terms of a declaration. The only thing left would have been to jump off a bridge, but that's just not my style.
One of my greatest fears is that I will cease caring.
Drink more water.
Buy new music.
Sometimes when I make the bed, I imagine someone other than myself will sleep there.
Finish movie.
It's all been worth it.
Fold laundry.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Shadows and light
Last week I found myself partaking in superficial conversations, cigarette smoking, and too many cocktails named after me. There was no lack of good manners or good will, but at the bar I am a stranger in a strange land. Who knows, maybe everyone is.At 2:00 a.m., as I walked home with someone I'd only met hours before, I asked myself: What am I doing, what do I expect, what do I want? And as I climbed his stairs, made my way through the hall and watched as he opened the door, I knew I was not exactly where I wanted to be, but would discover days later I was exactly where I needed to be.
With no interest in punishing myself for the obvious foolishness of going home with a man I didn't know, a man who possibly placed little if any value on me at all, I turned around and walked home.
There was a darkness in that night and in the nights that followed, but I understand that even when I'm making wrong choices, they are also right choices. Sometimes I have to dabble in what doesn't shine to be reminded where the light lives, and sometimes it takes a walk down a deserted street, through an unfriendly world of my own creation, to return me to the bright side where I know I belong.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Mama mia!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Truer words
Life was never meant to be the straight and narrow road you were taught to envision. This lifetime was pre-programmed with such a rich itinerary of convoluted detours to the destination toward which you travel. It is the deviation from what you may have expected that makes this journey fascinating and rewarding in the ways that really matter.~Rasha
Pure joy
From moment one, my guitar teacher made me believe it was not too late for me to learn, and that I was already armed with the tools I'd need to play a song. Last night I taught myself 4+20 by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, and tonight I was inspired to learn Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. After years of resisting an instrument, what a big and wonderful deal.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
In real time
Getting ready for "The Concert For Pakistan" at the United Nations General Assembly Hall. Guests will include Salman Ahmad, Samir Chatterjee, Gavin Rossdale, Sting (via video), Jeff Skoll, and my dear friend, Yale Strom.
Thought in real time
Do what you have to do, be where you have to be, but try to end up where you want--with the one you want.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Eight years ago & almost to the hour
I'll never forget looking out my office window on Lafayette Street, watching all those firetrucks racing by. I'll never forget calling my mother and instructing her to stay inside, or the next four hours making my way north on silent streets. I'll never forget the weeks that followed-- frightened faces and helping hands, pictures of loved ones glued to every surface of the city, flying hopelessly in a burning sky.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
I gotta feeling
Annie is eleven, almost twelve, and her iPod is becoming more and more important. Tonight, after her second day of seventh grade, she flopped down on the sofa, offered me half of her headphones, and played me some songs.
"This is my favorite part!" She said as we huddled listening to Supertramp. "Right here, Mom, where the saxophone comes in, I love that!"
Her newly streaked reddish hair and rock 'n roll cut, her deep dimples, shining eyes and sweet smell; I couldn't help but move in closer, stare and smile, wishing I could climb inside her world as she mouthed the words.
"Do you like this?" She asked while playing the new Black Eyed Peas.
"I love this," I replied. "I love this."
Click the music player to hear what she hears, I Gotta Feeling you'll like it.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Thought in real time
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Upon reflection
My mom: "Katie, your last post, the one about love, it was such a beautiful piece of writing."Me: "Thanks mom, that means a lot to me."
Mom: "And someday I'd like to sit down with you and have a philosophical discussion about your beliefs."
Me: "You mean you think my beliefs about love and romance are wrong?"
Mom: "Well, I don't want to say they're wrong."
Me: "But you think they're a little extreme?"
Mom: "Yes, maybe."
Me: "But here's the thing. I posted the piece as a way of saying that I'm not going to deny it. I'm not going to pretend that I feel anything different, because regardless of how I'm perceived, it is the way it is for me."
Mom: "Do you mean you posted it to cover your tracks?"
Me: "Cover my tracks?
Mom: "Yes. So let's say next time, when you write about love, you've already admitted everything so no one can accuse you of being too extreme."
Me: "No, that's not it. I'm not covering my tracks, I'm declaring it."
Mom: "Declaring it, okay, that makes more sense."
Me: "Also, I'm not saying that what I feel or want today will be what I feel or want tomorrow. I'm just talking about knowing myself, and knowing what I feel and want now. The thing is, I was married for 17 years and I know what love is. I know what it is with David, I know what it is with G., with C., and with A. My first serious relationship was when I was 17, and I know what that love is. I know the temporary kind, the cruel kind, and the kind in between. I have no illusions about my illusions, I'm not a 20-year-old girl holding out for something she saw in a movie. I'm a 46-year-old woman who, when it comes to love has a huge body of work to draw from, and who's earned the right to feel exactly what she feels, and want exactly what she wants, and have it change with no warning, and who makes no apologies for anything."
Mom: "You know what?"
Me: "What?"
Mom: "That makes complete sense to me."
Long pause.
Me: "Was that our philosophical discussion?"
Mom: "Yep!"
Monday, September 07, 2009
To Eyre is human
There is nothing more interesting to me than love and romance--people have their missions and mine has always been related to matters of the heart. Making a film was fun, editing television pays the rent, but it's what I feel when I'm in love that feeds and fuels me. It's the peace and the pain of it, the way it forces me awake and inspires me to walk on the edge of everything. It's how I learn to surrender and take refuge, to give and forgive, and give more after that.Jane Eyre is my favorite book and my favorite love story, and even if the vacant side of my bed is never claimed by Mr. Rochester, I'll always believe that a great love is the highest form of art. Shakespeare, Neruda, and Brontë conjured up their visions, and I have one of my own.
Without looking or longing, I'll remain alone in a state of love before I share my life with a man whose connection to me is less than rare. I'll let the story write itself and then, just as it will, allow it to come to an end.
Friday, September 04, 2009
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Leo horoscope by Rob Brezsny
No one knew there was coal in the United States until 1790. A hunter who was wandering near Pennsylvania's Broad Mountain stumbled upon it accidentally when his campfire lit up an outcropping of pure anthracite. That discovery was both a blessing and a curse; since then, the mining of coal has yielded abundant energy but also environmental degradation. I predict a metaphorically similar event for you in the coming days, Leo. You will inadvertently find a potentially enormous source of valuable fuel that will, like coal, present you with both rich opportunities and knotty dilemmas.But Naughty dilemmas would make it worth while, no? kb.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
My voice can soothe your pain
Dub Fx is a street-loop-beatboxer who uses Roland BOSS effect & loop pedals to create sounds which when layered creates a live musical construct. Enjoy.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Mustang Memories
Originally posted January, 2007Just before I turned 16, my father bought this 1967 Mustang for me to drive. Even though it wasn't yet considered a classic, it was a damn cool set of wheels, and it was everything to me. It represented endless possibilities and was the reason I couldn't wait to get out of bed in the morning. It was my first taste of freedom, my ticket to anywhere, at least anywhere in L.A..
I'll never forget the day I got my license, or the feeling I had when backing out of the driveway for the first time. It was like leaving each and every one of my teenage cares behind me. After dark, when I returned home, I was exhausted and shaking, and the odometer revealed all: day one out of the gate and I had driven 200 miles.
I slept in my bed and ate breakfast in the kitchen, but I lived in that car. I even gave her a name. Frankie. Driving her I played music non-stop, picked up friends and drove everywhere--to rock concerts, the beach, and through the hills of Hollywood.
Once, when returning from Malibu, I pulled up to a stoplight on Sunset Boulevard. In the car beside me was, by teenage girl standards, the hottest guy who ever lived. He looked at me and mouthed the words, “You’re beautiful.” I sat there speechless, and when the light turned green and he took off, I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a wind-blown mop, my eyes bloodshot red, and my face burnt by the sun. But I felt like Cinderella sitting in her magic coach, and no clock striking twelve could ever take that away.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Painted black
I have a lot on my mind lately--generating more income, preparing my child for seventh grade, writing my memoirs, and of course health care reform. But I'm also manifesting a dream that began a year ago this month, one that started in color, but that I'm now contemplating in black and white.Click here to see where it all began.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
And I love her
It's easy to express my love when it's swimming down a peaceful stream, or drowning in a violent sea. It's easy to express my love to my child, because it's like the palm of my hand--just right there.But when I think of my mother, the tears come on cue, but the words don't flow.
Even when I'm in her presence, I protect my own heart from what it feels for her. It's as if I open the door, I'll be left stranded in emotion with no way to express or describe it.
The love I have for my mother is love itself, and even if I could wrap it in ten thousand poetic words, it wouldn't be enough. The love I have for my mother lives in the baby I was, in a five-year-old girl, in who I am now, and in the old woman I will one day be.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Confession
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Sitting at the sidebar
The air up there
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)




























