“... joy and sorrow are inseparable. . . together they come and when one sits alone with you . . . remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.”
~Kahlil Gibran
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
In my dreams
During an early evening doze, I dreamed I was driving in my car passing another car on the left. Suddenly I was in danger, headed right for a semi--but at the last minute the semi moved. I continued forward toward a three-way intersection with a cliff straight ahead, and by the time I noticed the street light was out, I was going too fast. I had to make a left turn, but it was too late to slow down. I knew if I slammed on the brakes, I'd flip over or skid off the cliff. I also couldn't tell if cars were coming from the other side, and if I might be headed for a major collision. I had no choice but to leave it to fate as I approached the intersection at full speed.
Ultimately I was not hit, and without any effort, I made the turn and my car came to a smooth and safe stop.
Ultimately I was not hit, and without any effort, I made the turn and my car came to a smooth and safe stop.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
In my dreams
Last night I dreamed I was having dinner alone in a hotel lounge, and the waitress brought me a basket of bread.
"Oh, no thanks," I said, "I don't need it," but the waitress ignored me and left the basket on the table. A man was sitting near me in an easy chair, reading a paper--he smiled and said, "I like to eat bread when I'm on a date!"
I jokingly replied, "Then why don't you be my date, eat my bread, and then let's never see each other again!"
"Oh, no thanks," I said, "I don't need it," but the waitress ignored me and left the basket on the table. A man was sitting near me in an easy chair, reading a paper--he smiled and said, "I like to eat bread when I'm on a date!"
I jokingly replied, "Then why don't you be my date, eat my bread, and then let's never see each other again!"
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Happy Birthday Mom
To my mother, life is like a question and she's always seeking answers. To my mother, people are mysteries, and like an archeologist who digs for things left behind, or a pirate hunting treasure, she discovers what's inside. To my mother, pain and loss are part of what we endure, and she endures hers with grace, even when her heart is breaking. To my mother, the future can be frightening, but she values what she has in the moment--her children, her coffee, the way a piece of costume jewelry sparkles on her wrist.
My mother sees people as moving works of art, and she's always ready to lift them up or off a page and bring them to the stage. She can take an encountered moment, retell it like a dream, and be awed by all of it, day after day after day.
My mother is a great woman of the Universe and a kid from the Bronx. Her dark eyes will never tell you her secrets, but nothing is hidden. She lives underground, above the clouds and at the surface, and she is my treasure.
My mother sees people as moving works of art, and she's always ready to lift them up or off a page and bring them to the stage. She can take an encountered moment, retell it like a dream, and be awed by all of it, day after day after day.
My mother is a great woman of the Universe and a kid from the Bronx. Her dark eyes will never tell you her secrets, but nothing is hidden. She lives underground, above the clouds and at the surface, and she is my treasure.
Sick chicks
Monday, June 15, 2009
Slice of life
Today I went to the movies but didn't go in, I glued fake fingernails on Annie, spoke to Cristian, ate a well done burger, hugged Rosanne, laughed with my mom, laughed at David, discovered a love letter on my car, and scratched my face with the antenna of the 1970s portable TV set I found in the basement.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
What I think of me
Inspired by a post at Aerophant.
I think I’m intelligent, funny, clever, beautiful, and generous. I think I’m anxious, fearful, lonely, and self-absorbed. I think I’m honest and direct, and I think I have ugly legs. I think I care so deeply for my mother and my friends, but do a poor job showing them how much. I think I am easily overwhelmed, I think I take responsibility for my life, the good and the bad. I think I am an exceptional editor, a mediocre cook, and a responsive lover. I think I am undisciplined, unfocused and often unmotivated. I think I have great taste in music. I think I am jealous, diplomatic, and reluctantly reliable. I think I am a terrible mother, I think I am a good mother. I think I have great hair, a beautiful neck, nice ears and fat arms. I think I know very little about the world, and much about life.
I think I’m intelligent, funny, clever, beautiful, and generous. I think I’m anxious, fearful, lonely, and self-absorbed. I think I’m honest and direct, and I think I have ugly legs. I think I care so deeply for my mother and my friends, but do a poor job showing them how much. I think I am easily overwhelmed, I think I take responsibility for my life, the good and the bad. I think I am an exceptional editor, a mediocre cook, and a responsive lover. I think I am undisciplined, unfocused and often unmotivated. I think I have great taste in music. I think I am jealous, diplomatic, and reluctantly reliable. I think I am a terrible mother, I think I am a good mother. I think I have great hair, a beautiful neck, nice ears and fat arms. I think I know very little about the world, and much about life.
Sitting at the sidebar
I remember once, I must have been about 20, I was living in Santa Cruz and my parents lived in New York. I was heartbroken and sobbing over what, I can't recall. I phoned my father and after listening to me cry for some time, he became very quiet. Then, in a stern voice he said, "Get up and dance!"
"What?"I asked.
"Dance!" he barked. "Get out of bed right now, and while I'm on the phone, put on some music and start dancing!"
"But I don't want to dance!" I cried even harder.
"Do it!" he shouted. "Do it now!"
And of course, I always did what my father told me.
The song at the sidebar is playing in my apartment, and Daddy, wherever you are, I'm still listening to you, and I'm still dancing.
"What?"I asked.
"Dance!" he barked. "Get out of bed right now, and while I'm on the phone, put on some music and start dancing!"
"But I don't want to dance!" I cried even harder.
"Do it!" he shouted. "Do it now!"
And of course, I always did what my father told me.
The song at the sidebar is playing in my apartment, and Daddy, wherever you are, I'm still listening to you, and I'm still dancing.
Mystery solved!
Via email
From: Ann Bowen
Sent: Jun 12, 2009
8:35 PM
To: Katie Bowen
Subject: A Mother's needs
Katie!
I must buy a new typewriter. Please get me one on line or whatever is best.
Love,
Mama
From: Katie Bowen
Sent: Jun 13, 2009
12:29 AM
To: Ann Bowen
Subject: Re: A Mother's needs
A TYPEWRITER???
Please explain!
Love,
Katie
Sent: Jun 12, 2009
8:35 PM
To: Katie Bowen
Subject: A Mother's needs
Katie!
I must buy a new typewriter. Please get me one on line or whatever is best.
Love,
Mama
From: Katie Bowen
Sent: Jun 13, 2009
12:29 AM
To: Ann Bowen
Subject: Re: A Mother's needs
A TYPEWRITER???
Please explain!
Love,
Katie
Joke by me
Friday, June 12, 2009
Collision course
Today I parked my car at a meter on the corner of Broadway and 85th Street, walked toward the frozen yogurt place, and just before I entered, I heard a loud crash. I turned to see that two cars had collided just feet from my own parked car. Everyone appeared to be safe, and plenty of people were assisting the passengers, so I proceeded inside and stood on the long line of frozen yogurt lovers.
Eventually I got my cone and walked outside. The cops were there--taking reports and calming the distressed victims. As I began to unlock my car door, a van going full speed toward the corner at which I was parked, smashed into a stopped SUV and burst into flames. This took place no more than 5 feet from where I was now standing. The passengers safely got out of their vehicles, the police of course were already on the scene, and the fire department was called immediately.
As the van proceeded to burn to the ground, I decided to move my car to the next block. Then, while walking through Riverside Park, I finished my melting cone and listened to the faint sounds of sparrows and fire trucks in the distance.
Eventually I got my cone and walked outside. The cops were there--taking reports and calming the distressed victims. As I began to unlock my car door, a van going full speed toward the corner at which I was parked, smashed into a stopped SUV and burst into flames. This took place no more than 5 feet from where I was now standing. The passengers safely got out of their vehicles, the police of course were already on the scene, and the fire department was called immediately.
As the van proceeded to burn to the ground, I decided to move my car to the next block. Then, while walking through Riverside Park, I finished my melting cone and listened to the faint sounds of sparrows and fire trucks in the distance.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Quote
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Body talk
Body talk
She
Thoughts in real time
I'm tired of being the strong one--I'm tired of answering questions, sacrificing, moving over, and rolling over. I'm even tired of understanding. I'm tired of being Wife, Healer, Goddess, and Source.
Between a rock and a hard place, a hard place and a place to fall, I want to say no. I don't want to make a call or lift a finger, or throw a party or make a plan. I just want someone stronger than me to whisper in my ear, "Let me take care of you for a while."
Between a rock and a hard place, a hard place and a place to fall, I want to say no. I don't want to make a call or lift a finger, or throw a party or make a plan. I just want someone stronger than me to whisper in my ear, "Let me take care of you for a while."
Monday, June 08, 2009
For whom the bed tolles
Reading Signs
Sunday, June 07, 2009
WTR?
WTF?
WTH?
Friday, June 05, 2009
Evolving 101
It's not melancholy, not a longing of the heart--actually, it feels the opposite. If I had to describe it, I might say uncomfortable silence, fragments in frames, solitary, without need. I desire, not to create peace, but to take peace, not to be in love, but to be love. Yesterday I wanted a hand to hold, and today I hold my own--rain outside and everything.
Something's coming all right, like nothing I've known. It resembles heaven on earth, it only feels a little like hell.
Something's coming all right, like nothing I've known. It resembles heaven on earth, it only feels a little like hell.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
Night in shining armor
I close my door, dim the lights and light a candle--I sit in this chair and wait for what comes. Never at a loss for words, I have nothing to say--I am my mother's orphaned child. I gather my million moments of joy and put them in a book, I anticipate church bells but hear the alarm.
I know time passes when I'm not looking. Goodbyes to friends, memories of a lover's kiss, and a little boy's tender hands.
Somewhere there's music, how faint the tune, somewhere there's heaven... how high the moon.
I know time passes when I'm not looking. Goodbyes to friends, memories of a lover's kiss, and a little boy's tender hands.
Somewhere there's music, how faint the tune, somewhere there's heaven... how high the moon.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Slice of life
Monday, June 01, 2009
The way things aren't
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