Thought in real time

Maybe the wrong time... is the right time.

Sitting at the sidebar

Today, this northern girl feels completely Southbound.


Click the music player to hear.

Going home

My feet in boots, blue jeans on--I wear silver rings. For a moment, I feel like all of who I am, but it's too easy to lose that sense when you live among people who, like you, are not being all of who they are.

In boots, blue jeans and silver rings, I am suspended in a place where nothing need be done. I have long hair and green eyes, but I don't open my mouth, or build a house, or make something brilliant--I just hold my breath and I wait.

This work we do to be human, to carve out space, make art, find fulfillment and create meaning--it should be like a song. Effortless, melodic, rhythmic, and each day ending with a perfect cadence.

My boots, blue jeans and silver rings are expressions of the all of who I am, but when do I take the pieces of me, the notes and the chords, and write a song?

Maybe now is the time to stop waiting--for it, for that, for more. Maybe now is the time to make something brilliant, build a house just for me, then open my mouth and start singing.

Defining love

We all have our definitions of love--what it is and what it means. I used to think that love meant loving someone regardless of how they loved or didn't love you back. Later I decided that, with the exception of the love for a child, that wasn't true. At least not for me--I'm not that pure.

Recently, my brother Michael and I sat in our mother's kitchen, and he told me what he thought love was. "Love is when you love someone after time passes," he said. "After you know them, you still love them. That's love."

I think he's right.

Full course life

I want to be fed. I want a meal at a table on a leveled floor. I don't want to stand in line to place my order, or wait for what might be served. I don't want the thing that's still cooking, or the thing that's burnt--but mostly, I don't want to always be waiting for whatever is left over.

Thought in real time

Joke by Annie

Q: What does a shy tree need to do?

A: Branch out.

Sitting at the sidebar

An Orange Sky for my daughter, my brothers, my mother, and my dad.

My salvation lies in their love.

Today

Today I stood outside in the rain, and a young woman passed by, talking on her cellphone. "Are you kidding?" She said to the person on the other end. "I'm too busy being happy!"

"I love that!" I blurted out to no one. The girl turned to look at me, and smiled. "I love that you are too busy being happy!" I told her.

She laughed, and I laughed, and as she walked away smiling, I thought to myself: I'm gonna do that. I'm gonna be too busy being happy.

It's complicated

Annie: Do you think human beings were meant to be so complicated?

Me: Do you mean "meant to be" as in predestined?

Annie: Yeah.

Me: Well, I think we became more complicated because the world became more complicated.

Annie: Yeah, I mean cave people weren't this way. Did we evolve to become more complicated?

Me: I'm sure we'd understand more if we studied the history of the world, or the history of evolution, or the history of man, or the history of human psychology and emotions, but I do think we were meant to be this way, just by the fact that we are this way, know what I mean?

Annie: No.

Me: I mean, I know I was meant to be your mother... because I am your mother.

Annie: Oh.

Me: Do you think you're complicated?

Annie: I don't know, I know my life is complicated. I know that you're complicated.

Me: You think so?

Annie: Yes, and I think many people would back me up on that!

The way things aren't

I thought the cover of my magazine said, "Yoga Curses," but it actually said, "Yoga Cures..."

The way things aren't

I thought I saw a sign that said, "Lesbian Walkway," but it actually said, "Pedestrian Walkway."

The intense desire to have a relationship, or a specific situation work out exactly the way you want or need it to, is a form of perfectionism and control. It creates a tunnel vision around your own reality that keeps you at a distance from the world unfolding around you. It clouds your ability to see things the way they really are.

In essence, it's a fight against the way life itself is unfolding. The only thing you can control is how you respond when things unfold in a way other than what you wanted. The only thing you can control is you.

C. Carter

Joe

This is my friend Ned's dog. I love this picture.

Sitting at the sidebar

... this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
Then try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You just do it all again...


On The Radio, by Regina Spektor.

Thoughts in real time

If we can make sense, we can make choices, and if we're open, we can evolve. But who we are rarely changes. I'm older now, more confident now, I love deeper now--but who I am, for the most part, is who I've always been.

The look of love

I'm attractive, sometimes maybe beautiful, but only when I'm inspired by love have I ever been radiant.

Ships in the night

When a relationship ends, it feels as if the one you loved has set sail, and they carry on board all the love you had. But that love already belonged to you, long before you ever met--it was just accepted by the other, and reflected back.

When you finally hoist the anchor and set your course in a different direction, neither ship takes all. They leave with what already belonged to them, long before they ever met--and sail through rough and silent seas, in search of a new home for all that love.

Joke by Annie

Q: What do you call a prehistoric prostitute?

A: Dinowhore.

Sitting at the sidebar

I feel like I just got home.

Might tell you tonight

A lifetime ago, I sat in the same room I'm sitting in now, listening to the same song I'm listening to now. Full of anticipation, love and hope, I felt sixteen the moment I ran to the door and saw him darting up my stairs. He also felt sixteen, full of anticipation, love and hope.

New York is bursting with spring--the flowers are waiting to bloom, and the birds are already calling. And though I've never been a girl to sit home alone on a Saturday night, I've never been a woman who wanted something just to have something.

So I sit in the same room as I did a lifetime ago--listening to a song I once thought would be the soundtrack--I wait for winter to pass, and for the return of the season I felt sixteen.

Joke by Annie

Q: What do you give a famous soul singer for her birthday?

A: Aretha flowers.

Potty mouth

Annie: "When I went to get my braces, I was so nervous, I almost crapped myself!"

Pause.

Me: "You almost crapped yourself?"

Annie: "Yeah."

Me: "Please don't ever say that again, anywhere or to anyone. And since when does my daughter say 'Crap yourself'?'"

Annie: "I was just tryin' it out."

Waiting to sail

When I was a girl, I waited to be grown. When I was grown, I waited to be loved. When I was loved, I waited for more, and when I found more, I waited for something whole. When I found something whole, I found myself still waiting--still waiting for something more.

Sitting at the sidebar

A song for me.

One day at a time...

... becoming a Grown-Ass Woman, for real.

Evolving 101

Not long ago, I was with a man who called me a Goddess. He told me there was no one more beautiful, more wonderful, more lovely than I. We were like drug addicts together, and our drug of choice was romance.

Carl Jung said that romantic love was designed, among other things, to draw us together for the purpose of procreating, and every few years top news periodicals recycle this headline: Understanding The Science of Love. Although I'm convinced chemistry plays a big part in the pairing of people, I've always rejected the notion that science is the puppeteer, hiding backstage and pulling the strings, that surely matters of the heart are more mysterious than that.

The declarations offered by the man who thought me a Goddess felt like needles in my veins, and they fueled my seemingly insatiable desire to be adored. Every stroke, compliment and whisper in my ear made up for my father's absence, the vacant look in an old lover's eyes, and the string of disappointments I'd suffered since the search for my Knight-In-Shining-Armor first began. I thought the gestures of my beloved were meaningful, but at best they were his feelings in the moment; if they had been meaningful, we could have built a life on words alone.

I know a man who calls Hollywood romance movies "Love Killers," and though it may sound extreme, I think he's right. Every story is an adaptation and a reincarnation of Cinderella, and they add more and more fuel to the romantic fire that burns in most western women. But it's not a real fire, it's more like one of those petroleum-based logs you buy at the grocery store. You don't have to chop a tree or carry the wood. You don't have to cover it in crumpled paper to help it ignite. There is no work to be done, no mess to clean, just poof, like magic, the flames burn eternal.

I've always been a fan of the poet, Pablo Neruda, and anyone who knows me would understand why:

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me all day.
I hunt for the liquid measures of your steps.

I know what it feels like to crave someone, but whereas I once considered these sentiments the essence of passion; raw, untamed and unbridled, I now see them as limited versions of love.

I understand the intense feelings that would make me (or Neruda) go "... hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma...," but what I'd rather have is a man who considers my daughter, drinks wine with me while I cook stew, and stands beside me at a funeral. I no longer need him to see my hands as "... the color of a savage harvest...," I just want him to see me as a lover and a friend.

There will always be women younger than me, prettier than me, and smarter than me, but there will never be another me, so why would I want to be something less than me? Why would I want to be a goddess, or a girl in a dream, or a song, or a sonnet? I am already, as we all are, so much more than that.

I used to want a man to knock me off my feet, but now I want a man who inspires me to stand. I used to want a man who would take my breath away, but now I want a man who allows me to breathe. I used to want a man I couldn't live without, but now I want a man... I can live with.

Realizations in real time

I was saying yes, but I was saying no. I was seeing clearly, but I wasn't seeing far. I wanted to be loved, but I wanted it in writing. I opened my heart, but I forgot to surrender.

Evolving 101

I'm the same girl I was before, but not the girl I used to be. I'm the same woman I've always been, but not the woman I once was. I've been running toward freedom my whole life, and running from life since the day I was born, and I know that if I stop running, I will find freedom, and if I stop seeking shelter, I will find my home.

Thought in real time

How nice it would be to come home to someone who was happy to see you, who wanted to make you a drink, or a sandwich, or fall asleep with you after a long day.

Sitting at the sidebar

Working weekend
Home now
Warm night
Schubert plays.

Click the sidebar to listen.

Sitting at the sidebar

A Song For You, by Alexi Murdoch.

What I want

I want cigarettes and red licorice to be good for you, martinis to make you feel as happy in the morning as they made you feel last night. I want little girls to know their value, and little boys to know their beauty--I want an apartment flooded with light, and a really good book to read. Oh yeah, and I want love. Gotta have me some love.

Ad buster

Annie: "When we get home, can I wash my room with Windex?"

Me: "Uh... OK."

Annie: "I saw a commercial that said, 'Wash your room with Windex!'"

Me: "Hey, since when did you stop adhering to the rule about muting the commercials?"

Annie: "Mom, I never mute the commercials anymore! Besides, it's not like I'm actually going to start buying the products they're advertising!"

Me: "But you just said you wanted to wash your room with Windex."

Annie: "Oh. Right. Good point."

Quote

Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care, for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill.

~Buddha

Sitting at the sidebar

Annie is like a melody in my head, and sometimes I like listening to the music she listens to... just because she listens to it.

Click on the music player to hear what's currently playing in her head.

Armchair psychology 101

I suppose that all my life, I've been looking for a man who has integrity, who is mentally strong and emotionally sound. A protective man with youthful eyes and a playful nature. A man who expresses himself honestly and respectfully, and who doesn't expect greatness from me because he already thinks I am great.

I suppose that all my life, I've just been looking for a man like my dad.

Today

I stood in the sun in the cold, and saw a blue gumball next to my shoe. An old Chinese man crossed my path, and a tall woman walked a furry black dog. I was listening to music, and as I looked down at the gumball, then up at the sky, I knew that everyone was listening with me.

Thoughts in real time

My father died on February 16th, 1996. This past February 16th was the first one since then that came and went without me remembering. I only remembered it just now, when I spotted the date on my calendar. I also just realized that I no longer think of him every day, a thought that startles and saddens me.

I miss my dad. I miss how much he loved me, I miss feeling safe in the world because he was in it.

Sitting at the sidebar

I'm having a new romance. It's the most intense, and honest, and loving experience I have ever known--and it's with myself.

No desire to dedicate this song to anyone tonight but me.

Alexi Murdoch, Blue Mind

(Im)Perfect

It's great to be with someone who wants you to be better than you are, and greater to be with someone who wants you to be just as you are.

Leo horoscope by Rob Brezsny

Of all the symbols in the world, the swastika is the most horrendous. As the logo for Hitler's Nazi movement, it will forever smack of evil. But it didn't used to be that way. In many cultures throughout history, from the Greeks to the Hindus to the Native Americans, the swastika was a representation of the sun's path across the sky, and was regarded as highly auspicious, even a good luck charm. Can you think of a more modest equivalent of this phenomenon in your own life, Leo? A formerly wonderful thing that got spoiled somewhere along the way? The coming weeks will be a good time to determine whether you could redeem and rehabilitate it.

Sitting at the sidebar

I'm growing up, developing new muscles and a thicker skin, but my heart is still precious territory.

Here's a little song for a big city night.

Click the music player to listen.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Sitting at the sidebar

This song is for my friend Tai--who I've known almost all of my life, and who I miss all of my days.


Click the music player to listen.

Ain't talkin' 'bout love...

... but you know I will again... one day.

All in a day

Gave a massage, had Margaritas, straightened my underwear drawer, covered my daughter in down.

Thought in real time

Whatever becomes of us, he has taught me more about myself than any man ever has. And what I've learned, makes me want to come out of hiding.

Thoughts in real time

Sometimes I feel like the craziest person I know, but I suspect I'm one of the sanest. After second paycheck, hair cut and colored. I know what love looks like when I look in his eyes. Gonna get me those black boots.

All in a day

Dreamed of owning thigh-high boots, edited video footage of prostitutes, and sang Won't You Come Home Bill Bailey with an old man in front of a candy store.