the thousandth day ever

need inspiration

2011-11-07T10:49:00.001-05:00

So I'm back from new york, singing the praises of Sleep No More, the Hungarian Cafe, the Brooklyn Flea, dear friends, and carafes of wine. Thank you, all.

I've unofficially begun a 'city tour' that will hopefully inspire me towards a goal for the future. I'm startign to realize that my inspiration has run a bit dry here in Beverly; I need change, I need new sights, new challenges. It's getting too easy to sit in my bed and browse Facebook or whatever. My art is lacking, I feel, just, dry. Not totally dry, but approaching dry. The fact that I can see and recognize it for what it is-- is at least a good thing. We're going to Chicago for Thanksgiving; which I'm super pumped about. We're hopefully meeting up with a theatre group there called Barrel of Monkeys; and I want to check out the theatre scene. Improv Capital. And then after that, Philly at some point; maybe before Christmas.

So I will stick around until June; the lease is up then, also I need to finish one. last. class.
but then, I think I'm out of here.

It is not good riddance. No. I don't have harsh feelings towards this place; in fact I love it. I love a lot of people here. My dearest friends are here (though they're starting to spread out--helping feed my need to leave, I think). My family is close by; my baby nephew is growing up so much between my fairly frequent visits. My grandmother is growing older. How can I leave? I don't know.

In other news, the show was GREAT (I should log away the idea that I'm in post-show depression right now. adding to the dryness) and I really do miss Jane now that she's gone. She hasn't really come back to visit yet, but I'm still running lines in my head from force of habit (usually when I'm trying to fall asleep.) The show had a really good response, and I am very pleased. I do wish more pople had been able to come--we had only about 3 full houses in our run (this is unusual for us, as of late), but it was an unknown show, not a musical, and the PR wasn't that great. Oh well. We fully enjoyed every performance and every audience member who came out. thank you, everyone, for the fun and the laughter!

timid hello

2011-10-06T14:53:00.000-04:00

okay so hi. It's fall out there and I'm roasting squash and finishing emails and things before work and rehearsal. I'm thinking about projects I have started, yet to start, thinking of starting; rolling up the cuff on my jeans, stepping on the cat's tail by accident, making coffee. This computer is humming loudly and growing very warm to the touch. There are way too many dirty dishes next to my bed. Speaking of projects, I want to paint my room; I'm feeling something between pistachio and olive drab. chartruese. or an orange ochre would be fantastic. it needs something. It also might help to put away the boxes finally.

Small discoveries is where it's at. Yesterday I discovered that my apartment key also works to open the building's front door. Who knew? I only needed on key.
or, the really beautiful things that people say when you ask questions and really listen.
how nice it is to ask for help.
how delicious Darcy's chili was the other night.
holy sugar, it was good!
even discovering that we're out of toliet paper. you know, you have to thank god for these times.

In other news, I've been to Europe and back since the last post. Oh, you know. Just went to see a bunch of theatre in London adn Edinburgh. Just went to the Fringe Festival in the coolest city ever. No huge deal, I just saw theatre that CHANGED MY LIFE. Ugh. It was incredible. I'm still recovering, and that was the end of August. But someone told me a couple days ago that I shouldn't recover. I shouldn't recover. And I realized, yes. This is truth.

In other news, my ex-landlord is being awesome and witholding lots of money from us. awesome.

In other news, we haev a new roommate. she's great! and her cat is adorbs.

In other news, I'm in a show at Gordon about Jane Austen and her writing of Pride and Prejudice (and the characters who appear in the middle of her life and makes waves that she is not expecting!). And while it may not be everyone's cup of tea, it is going to be a really good show. And I promise that if you come you will not leave disappointed. It's called Lizzy, Darcy, and Jane; we're doing the American premeire, and we open Oct 21. here's more info, if the spirit leads: http://www.gordon.edu/theatreschedule

in other news, I must dash off the stir the squash.

love all.

let's go camping.

2011-04-19T01:30:00.004-04:00

and wake up and boil water
and make tea.

I'm thinking of being smaller, simpler--
wearing oshkosh overalls!
prancing in circles and making weird sounds!
crumply blonde hair. kissing worms,
running
and not getting tired!

this is what trying to catch up looks like

2011-04-18T01:31:00.002-04:00

it looks like
me sitting at my computer, staring at a screen
walking through my dark cluttered room to turn on the lamp since the overhead exploded two weeks ago.
like my electric blue bathrobe.
like toast for every meal.
like quitting one of my jobs because I need a weekend
the gaslight perpetually on
tired droopy eyes
unpaid rent
laughing weirdly

it sounds like
two door cinema club, lets make this happen girl we're gonna show the world that something good can work and it can work for you
my car starting,
my car stopping.
the neighbors yelling at their children, or their dog.

it feels like
the handle of the kitchen faucet breaking off in my hand
a kitchen flash flood. water. everywhere.
that post-show letdown kind of, but confused.
will I ever actually start?

it smells like
wet laundry and cat litter
altoids
old coffee,
my jasmine candle

I need to get a grip.

2011-03-21T23:40:00.003-04:00

As in, stop dwelling in the sadnesses of now, and realize the big world of beauty out there.
I just need to find them, right? The beauties.

It's hard though, with the world just going to shit.

But in the middle of feeling inadequate and inconsequential and awkward, good things happen.
Two pieces of great great news came to me today. I cried from happiness. Well, it's mostly just overflowing emotion that has no other way of coming out. This happens to me quite often.
I worked in the theater, got some things accomplished.
Had a delightfully unexpected conversation with someone new.

I want to go and move and be free, but I'm running in a circle. Being somewhere else will not fix all of my problems like I foresee it to. I find myself reading and searching grad schools in New York a lot recently with the "if only I was graduated" gremlin. He/She gremlin has been hanging out in my life often as of late. We don't get along much.

but I need to accept where I am and who I am now. Finish my editing, work on my research, read, dedicate myself to people.

I can't tell if I've lost my interest in reading. I just don't feel like doing it right now. Right now meaning: ever, recently. I don't know. I'm in a doing phase of life. Reaction to Oregon? Perhaps.

And there'll be sun sun sun all over our bodies

2011-03-16T14:27:00.000-04:00

WHY GREY SKY, WHY?

I defy you.

Speechless.

2011-03-14T02:27:00.001-04:00

I just read a facebook conversation concerning gay marriage and I am in shock. Just, shaking my head...

I had a few realizations:

Firstly. It is so crazy to me that these kind of conversations happen on a Facebook status. To be expected I suppose.

Secondly. I am surprised and so shocked when I realize that there are so many people in this world who see the world so differently than I do. I almost forget this sometimes. I just figure everyone is at the same level. I'm like, "aren't we DONE with this one?!?!"

Thirdly. There are a lot of people who clearly don't personally know anyone who is gay.

Fourthly. That I have a hard time respecting people who say rampantly inappropriate, close-minded, unintelligent and offensive things. My natural response progression is to be angry, then disgusted, then feel bad for them for being so close-minded, and then I want to walk away and give up trying to argue. If I even argue at all.

Fifthly. I have much respect for people who can engage in this kind of conversation. I would truly struggle. I get too angry.

oh my word.

Brunch Dance Universe

2011-03-11T21:32:00.000-05:00

I can deal with life right now I think.

Five steps to recovery:

1. Wake up and wash your face.
2. Morning yoga and loud breathing.
3. Make and eat a huge breakfast (only breakfast this week??!) with good people!
4. Then, when your kitchen magically turns into a DANCE CLUB, connect with the dance universe for a while.
5. Cool down music with Ray Lamontagne and First Aid Kit.

AH, and how Logic is my Prozzy.

2011-03-09T14:40:00.002-05:00

How will I ever make it through this day.

this is my twitter-esque update. more to come. if I actually do end up making it through.

-------------------

made it. barely. Logic? Why did I decide I should take you? I like you but we can't be together at this time, I don't have enough room in my head for both of us right now. We should break up.
...I'm paying for you? ...We have a 4 month-long relationship agreement?

what have I done?

what a day.

2011-03-06T21:46:00.004-05:00

Now that I am officially behind in everything, I can drink a soda AND a red bull at work and stay awake to all hours catching up!

I have 3 papers to finish, calculus homework, a scene to memorize, logic homework and exam this week, editor responsibilities to start actually doing, and other paperwork I can't seem to stay on top of.

So, wish me luck, pray for me, what have you. This will be a night of remembrance.

I'm looking forward to the day when my life/updates are not solely influenced by schoolwork.

eye twitching.

2011-03-04T00:03:00.002-05:00

it's been twitching for hours. I have no idea how to make it stop other than sleeping, which I need to embark on shortly.

I have accomplished 10% of my plan for the day.

okay, maybe 20%. I did get a few emails out.

But I still need to wake up early and do calculus and read a play. And memorize lines.

Why did I think I could balance all of this?

It's almost Spring Break.

Whatever that means. I won't be breaking. I have two projects to be figuring out over the course of that week. Along with work...

I need to pay rent. It seems unfair that February ends so quickly and I'm already behind in March.

I won't be having a weekend this weekend.

at least my room is clean, and I have a jasmine candle burning and I finished my Logic homework and quiz in time, though I think it has a great deal to do with the eye twitching phenomenon.

I really enjoy the moment after you take off your glasses, see how dirty they have become, wipe them clean, and then put them back on. EVERYTHING IS SO CLEAR?!?!
It's the little things.

the tautology rule: P may be replaced with P v P
the distribution rule: P v (Q & R) is equivalent to (P v Q) & (P v R)

yes, sweet dreams tonight..

I've been dreaming in cupcakes.

2011-03-02T00:23:00.003-05:00

updates are always more interesting with pictures.
I haven't always been won over by these little things. I've been more of a full-cake baker/decorator... but recently I've been officially won over.
here's some pictures of cupcakes I've had the pleasure of making over the past few months.
Vegan Dark Chocolate Hazelnut:

Vegan Carrot Cake cupcakes for Bradley's birthday last month:

And the Vegan Rum Raisin Rum cupcakes I made last week!

This weekend: Vanilla Bean with Chocolate Ganache, vegan of course.

should I marry kocoum?

2011-02-28T22:55:00.001-05:00

-10 Starting the day off being late for class.
+1 figuring out mistakes
-3 Cloudy rain sky that makes it impossible to tell time all day
+6 Wikipedia
+1 Ipswitch Ale
+50 Hunchback of Notre Dame soundtrack
+/-1 Realizing themes that went over your head as a child

today's total: 45

okay. working on Waiting for Godot.

our daily math

2011-02-28T00:09:00.000-05:00

-4 cold enough for snow
+1 cuddly kitten in my underwear drawer
-1 cuddly kitten does not want to cuddle with me
+2 for crossing off things on the master list
-1 messy room
+1 The King's Speech for best picture
-2 frustration with this evening's plans getting changed a million times
+1 found my W-2, meaning:
+1 tax returns
+2 Crepe night tomorrow

today's total: 0

the rain has me

2011-02-26T17:51:00.000-05:00

the rain has me down. I'm feeling a bit gloomy right now, but I need to keep in mind that things will be better.

I like when the kittens walk on my back when I'm lying on my bed, but not when they get into my trash and eat my books.

I never got around to returning that book I was supposed to return.

I love standing in the quiet theatre. Sometimes it makes me cry.

Last night I made a list of things that have gone right so far this year.

11:45

2011-02-07T23:47:00.000-05:00

feeling like a 75 year old, I'm about to pass out (have a few times already while reading online articles...)

I cut my hair too short yesterday. alas. it will grow back.

please stay on top of work, please and thank you.

get a new job, working at a pizza shop. a funny place for a vegan.

but it'll pay for my groceries.

The State of our Union.

2011-02-03T13:54:00.003-05:00

Earlier in my car I heard an advertisement for some guy who is a hypnotherapist. He claims he can make you stop smoking or lose weight forever. One woman says "I smoked for forty-five years!" in a grating voice that made you believe it, followed by an enthusiastic man: "After just one session I lost 173 pounds and kept it off!"

So I was already doubting that this was legitimate.

And the woman exclaimed "I don't even miss it!"
followed immediately by the joyful man: "I'm not a fat person any more!"

...

it's the First Day of School.

2011-01-20T11:11:00.002-05:00

dun dun dun duuuuuuun

Or, it feels like it.

or, as stressful as it is supposed to be.

will my schedule work out? will I be able to handle all of these classes (full time?! a math class?!?!) along with work? along with the show(s)!?!
yet to be seen.

thankfully I had an hour just now to go through my google calendar (savior) and update.

don't have any textbooks yet? check.
sitting in the Jenks lobby, not recognizing anyone? check.

UPDATE:
it's 7:45pm

Well, it was stressful, as I imagined. Starting out with me being late to, hmmmmmm....EVERYTHING

because once you're late for one thing, you're late for everything after.
Well actually I was on time for class. Which was AWESOME. I'm taking a Movement class, where we are studying and exploring movement: trying to free our bodies and imagination by being a mirror to qualities of the natural world! YES PLEASE.
for instance, my homework is to come to class on Tuesday ready to share my embodiment of "a sunset". CAN'T WAIT

but, then I was LATE LATE to work, which was awful.
awful. awful traffic. awful google maps directions. (THANKS FOR NOTHING, INTERNET)

but I got a vegan hot-dog out of it, so yum. (it was, I was pleasantly surprised.)

three days later... (4)

2011-01-04T00:25:00.000-05:00

three-and-change days into the new year and so many things have happened already. possible?
apparently. I've already watched enough movies to last me through the next few months (possibly semester) so, hoorah. ps. Inception was just as brilliant the second time.
I made seitan for the first time (obviously the same for the computer, it doesn't know what to make of that word. seems to want to make it into "sextant", whatever that is) the other day. And twice, actually, because the first time it was mush and I don't want to talk about it... but that's what you get for following recipes, I always say.
My dad came in after it came out of the oven and said it smelled like I was making chicken. So I don't know if that's good or bad.

dear friends, weddings and engagements all around, cold winds of cabot, driving again, having a phone again, moving, full-time student (!!!), work and teaching, etc.
all new things to come back to.

to do list:
find lost box of clothes that has my work shirt.
figure out menu for dinner on Thursday
figure out wedding gift.
many pictures to upload to facebook.
slow computer that makes above task nigh impossible or at the least, last a fortnight. I had to delete things from my computer because my hard drive is maxed out, very funny.
figure out classes for this semester.
figure out life.

Hi I'm Back.

2011-01-02T19:40:00.001-05:00

recipe for my life since the summer:

arrive in Oregon
go to awesome grocery store (Shop N' Cart)
drive up gigantic mountain that makes the strongest stomach wince

let sit for 4 months.

MEANWHILE:
read
chop wood and build fires
read
drive down gigantic mountain that makes the strongest stomach wince at breakneck speed x15
make food
READ
wait for mail.
....
knead in a renewed love for music, slowly and with care
read
become a Firefly fan
read x1249
throw in some friend-making and LOTS of laughter

Fly back to MA (CAUTION: may take 15 hours)
Meet interesting fellow at 2nd layover, talk about history and teaching.

From here, ADD: Christmas, New Years, Polish people, and wine

in small bowl combine:
generous sprinkle of Dance Party
two handfuls of movie-watching
few tablespoons of cynicism
a few bananagrams tiles
ADD to above ingredients
gently fold in equal parts of love and vexation and desire

roll out, and using a paring knife or styling tool, cut out shapes.
bake at warm temperatures, and cold temperatures,
(don't forget the high altitude, it'll burn easy)
for another couple of weeks.

frost with evaporated cane powdered sugar (found only in Coop bulk bins) and soy milk.

EAT AND BE MERRY

I feel it in my fingers. written in snow

2010-08-18T10:58:00.004-04:00

welcoming another year,
the year of the rabbit hedgehog
the ballet dancer on a mowed field--
sloshing in the silent, grey puddling.

so, I need to read einstein's autobiography probably.

2010-08-07T13:35:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about this whole compassion bit, and what it really, honestly, truly looks like in my life. It is easy to diagnose in other areas, and especially in people who differ from me and struggle with things and people that/who I do not struggle with- because it is removed from my own life and compassion issues. And I am forced to remember what Albert Einstein says:

"A human being is a part of the whole, called by us the “Universe,” a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest-- a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us.

Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself a part of the liberation, and a foundation for inner security."

"...restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us."
The struggle is not only to free ourselves from this- but first to figure out WHAT the hell 'our personal desires' and WHO 'persons close to us' are. It's easy to point fingers and see where everyone else is faltering and being reactionary because of their own upbringing. Which, still, takes a certain awareness that not everybody has; however, that is only a part of the process; it's necessary to extend beyond this 'outer awareness' and find an even deeper inner awareness to apply this to our own lives. And in doing so we are able to "free ourselves from this prison..."

Einstein says "by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures..." we free ourselves of this self-inhibition. It is only by realizing who it is we find hard to love. What people-group, socio-economic class, personality-type, age-group- for whatever reason (to be discovered), has proven the most difficult to love. And those, specifically, are the people that we must endeavor to love most deeply. Because only by widening that circle of compassion to include those people will we be able to get outside of our own desires and slim aptitude for affection. Again, it is easy to love those who are like us. It is easier to understand the plight of those with whom we relate closely.

And if I deem the struggle of someone else, on any level, to be less than my own (or less than those whom I relate closely to), of course my natural response is some kind of disdain. I am frustrated that they do not see the situation for what it really is; that their circle of awareness is tiny (especially compared to mine), or some other invisible vice- that only after more breakdowns and realizations, I come to see in myself. Those people who annoy me, or just the 'unlovables' in people I do love (or, are trying to...), those are the people I must learn to understand and love. And so it seems the goal is: forever increasing compassion to free myself from the prison of some facile self-possession. Awesome, how conceivable.

and so goes the constant conversation with myself. The next challenge will to put down in writing the persons whom I must learn to love. I think we so easily convince ourselves (without even realizing it) of the rightness of our disdain (even the slight stuff!) that we don't notice it or the effects of it. And maybe we do, but can't find way to get out or around it. How utterly "plaguy". Thanks, GRE words.

goodmorning, Fall morning

2010-07-31T14:13:00.000-04:00

This morning I woke up, chilled and fresh, with my poofy comforter pulled up to my neck. I probably karate kicked out of my bed, like most good mornings. (for what this looks like, look here, about 17-18 seconds in.) and claimed the day.
Annery and I then decided that today is a Fall day- which is why both of us were suddenly unbelievably happy. A day for scarves and small cups of coffee...

There are only a few things that can be done on a day like today:

First, you put on fall music that gets your soul happy.

Then, you made crepes with strawberries and bananas.

And then, you make a dress to wear to a tea party out of a bright red moo moo (complete with hibiscuses and parrots) that you found yesterday at Savers.

Then, you read for a bit next to a window.

And then finally, you got to a tea party with a bowl of cherries.

Today, you are on your way to a beautiful thing.

nostalgia and stuffy nose

2010-07-22T22:24:00.001-04:00

Everybody here is a cloud, and everybody here will evaporate
because you came up from the ground, from a million little pieces-
have you found where your place is?

-------

I'm in one of those moods where nothing does the trick; but I try things like:
- listening to cloud cult
- watching youtube videos of fred astaire
- eating sweet things (sometimes helps)
- reading old journal entries or poetry (almost never helps)
- facebook (never helps)

it's okay, it'll pass.

I think I'll watch a movie or something. but, I'm afraid that will make me sadder; sometimes watching movies alone can have that depressing atmosphere around them. I dunno. Maybe I'll just sit on the back porch in the wind- hopefully strong enough to keep the blood-sucking thieves away. what, and stare off into the unknown distance? come on, bekah.

once more day of work, and then the weekend. this week is taking LONGER than the past two, and I'm only working part-time. Maybe it's because I'm only working part-time.

I have really nothing important to say here, and I don't know why I will hit the publish post button after this..

put a new bulb in the kitchen overhead. now it's a bit brighter in here

recordings.

2010-07-02T01:01:00.000-04:00

So, I should record some of what happened to me when I was in nyc- after all it was two whole weeks of my life!
sarcasm.
but actually, it was a very intense two weeks that deserves some blogspace (new social networking provider? combination?) I learned a lot, about things, about myself, things, the nyc subway, things, walking fast, how hours are like minutes, tap dancing.
all in a day's work. ...class.
And now, at the end of it, I can tap dance. poorly, mind you, but tap dance. whereas I could not even dream of this before, I can now don a pair of tap shoes and wow you for about two seconds.
And I can tell you funny stories of a New-Yorker-ish version of Norm.
And a female version of Jeff.
And life seems more peculiar every time I start to look at it particularly.
I was challenged with new material (read: character) and air quality (read: smog headaches)
and time flying by.
The first week I couldn't even fathom going out after class was over; every day I was totally wiped and just wanted to go back to the apartment (lovingly shared by a friend for two weeks!) and crash. And read. And watch TV (what? TV? existing in my life?), and listen to our neighbors latin dance party. and/or the fire alarm. That's after looking at my disintegrating map forty times to make sure I actually wanted to be going uptown. (I did.)

But the second week was a new story. I was somehow fueled by my knowledge, a feeling of belonging finally started to settle and I could briskly pass anyone walking on the street and give (ah, mediocre) directions to those silly tourists. what do they know?!?!
I went to a show almost every day.

First show in NYC: Our Town at the Bowery St Theatre. It was okay. I had a very high bar for this show, having been in an incredible production of it myself- and honestly it lacked a lot for me in a few ways. But there was a surprise at the end that I was not expecting- something that played on every sensory faculty.. including the smell of real cooking bacon. What an interesting twist! I thought the over-all direction was not very cohesive, and the acting for some of the characters left some to be desired (Not George, though! HE was great!!!), but in all, an okay way to spend an evening.

MY FIRST BROADWAY EXPERIENCE: Promises, Promises with Sean Hayes and Kristen Chenoweth. Amazing! I was blown away! So funny and polished! It also made me fear for my ability to do this because of the wonderful dancing, and I can't help but be jealous of the people who have been doing dance their whole life.

Second Broadway experience (well, off-broadway): Next to Normal with Alice Ripely, Brian d'Arcy James, Kyle Dean Massey, Jennifer Damiano, Adam Chanler-Berat, and ....I can't remember his name but I'll fill it in later. INCREDIBLE. I have too many words or no words to describe this experience. It was breathtaking in many different ways, and truly moved me. all words seem pathetic, so I'll stop here: literally INCREDIBLE; without credit enough for it's due.

Third (well, fourth show): Sondheim on Sondheim! What a different show from the rest! I was not sure what to expect from this show (I only knew it was a revue/tribute of/to Stephen Sondheim) and I thought it was effortless the way they put everything together- the staging mixed with the technology of 50+ (? I can't judge numbers, give me a break) tv screens all over the stage in varying planes and heights. They make up the whole set (stairs, platforms, flats) with pull-away parts that came together to form a large screen. It was pretty magnificent (I was trying not to think about how much it all cost!) and the actors were lovely. My favorite moment had to be Norm Lewis' interpretation and performance of "Being Alive" from Company. It was intense. At moments that I started to drift from the show (hey, it happens)- by the end of this song, he had everyone's complete attention. So much passion- and I was impressed as it is a 'clip' from the show and doesn't have the entire rest of the play to back it up or be fueled by. He was wonderful. and the applause after the song was the longest out of everything else.

Fifth: Race, written/directed by David Mamet. What a disappointment. Horrible. I have almost nothing good to say about this show, I'm sorry. It was really terrible. I was totally turned off from the first thirty seconds, and I thought about the possibility of leaving at intermission because I didn't want to have to sit through it (I ended up sitting through it). I tried to pick apart whether it was the writing, directing or acting that was horrid; but I think it was a mess of the three. Mamet should NOT have directed his own piece, it was the total demise. His bias of the work was so evident by it being shoved down our throats. The pacing was totally off (way too slow and weird.), the writing was all about these biting one-liners (which is maybe Mamet's style, but MAN I don't like it), the actors made amateur mistakes (flubbing lines??!?! stopping lines short where someone is supposed to cut in but they don't?!?!?! dropping energy like it's hott?!?! what is this!?!? Broadway!? I can't believe it?!?!), and the racial jokes were too much to handle. There was an uncomfortable air- a white-man's apologetic plea and guilt-induced laugh . I'm sorry, but I did not give a standing ovation, I stood (sat?) my ground, even there in the second row. I clapped sitting down, thanking them that it was over, and hoping desperately that they will do better tomorrow. It's a sad day when I spend $70 on a show this disappointing. and BROADWAY? ah.

Sixth: The Fantasticks. Okay! Well, again, I had no idea what to expect from this piece, and I was pleasantly surprised overall. In the beginning I wasn't too impressed because the style was different than what I usually jam with and/or different than what I was expecting. It's very circus-y. Actually, quite like a circus. I had only heard one song from this show before seeing it ("Much More"), and I imagined the way I would direct that piece, or how I would sing it-- and it was so different in the full show. It had a Brecht-ian air to it, a meta-theatre feel that kept you as a distanced audience member watching the action as social commentary. It's not that I didn't like what it had to say; quite the opposite. I thought it was well-done in the style it was done in. I think I would just be interested in directing it differently-- what would it look like to make it less Brecht-ian; not to over-sentimentalize it (which could easily be done), but to make it less like a performance within a performance? I loved the Mute's character. How interesting!
Overall, a good ending to my nyc show experience. Thank GOD it wasn't Race I ended on. It almost was! But I didn't want to leave with a bad taste in my mouth.

Well, there's show reviews for you. More on the classes later. I'm tired, and it's 1am.
figures.

post-nyc, pre-job

2010-07-01T14:46:00.001-04:00

So, I have a few days to... myself. Mostly filled with the dread of things I should be doing-
moving fully upstairs, cleaning out stuff, organizing, planning, checking my diminishing bank balance. And remembering things I've forgotten: depositing house fund checks for rent, finishing and sending in paperwork, being on top of things, etc. Adult things.

And I can't help but want to watch the hunchback of notre dame and eat grilled cheese and tomato soup all day, while cuddling with poofy blankets. And, it's been pretty damn good weather out there too, a little hot even (a little?). What the hell is this?

But I'm to make community dinner tonight, something that should make me feel better. hopefully. Maybe that will make me an adult.

I'm in denial. or something.

So, I make cupcakes instead. delicious vegan cupcakes. and now, I'm an adult.

There is something in me that I can't explain.

2010-06-01T23:58:00.003-04:00

And no words make it palpable in the way that I want for anyone to understand- it always seems to be taken in the wrong way. I don't know where it came from, or why I seem to be such an oddity.

It is the pain when I see women being strung out in a disgustingly perverse and constricting social construct. All that is fancy words.
When you are placed into a small box and told to fill that square, and only that square. When someone tells you don't gain one pound, you're perfect where you are. When a man has control over your actions and decisions, and you feel helpless. When that person says "size six is perfect for you". When you are uncomfortable to the point of saying yes even if you want to say no. When you continue to believe that this perfect hair, skin, makeup, clothes, body will make you more desirable, appropriate, actually beautiful.

And no one seems to understand my anger at these things. I feel so misunderstood when I show my anger-- it seems to be rejected by the people for which I am angry. I am angry when you say you need to be sexy for him. I am angry when you couldn't say no to an uncomfortable discussion or car ride. I am angry when the re-touched photo is the one getting every comment; the one used to say "you're beautiful inside AND out". What is she supposed to believe? When we all buy into this ourselves?

And the most and only times I am complimented by men is when I have make-up on, and it's usually a comment like "are you wearing make-up? you look beautiful." WHAT THE HELL IS THAT. And why am I the only one that seems to see this? I'm so godddamn sick of women telling each other that this "model" body that you are up-keeping for the few months it's physically possible is the most beautiful they've ever been? WHY do we use THIS picture to say "you're beautiful inside AND out"? WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE BY THAT? Why do we continue this?

Why are we conditioned this way? and why the hell can't anyone say no? SAY NO. SAY NO, DAMN IT.

And I want to empower women. I am so sickened by this moment of subversion and construction- when strong women feel they don't have the power to say no when they are in an uncomfortable situation. When women I love continue to subvert themselves to the will of a man; I barely have words.

AH why is it so hard to say no? I'm so mad at these women for continuing it onto themselves! It is an anger that I want people to understand- towards the inaction, not the person! DO something, damn it. do something. stop talking in a softer, sweeter voice when he's on the phone. stop hoping that he thinks you're hot. stop straightening your hair. stop buying cute underwear. and all of this doesn't make enough sense when it's outside my brain for anyone to agree.
"Why should I stop buying cute underwear? It's for me. I like feeling sexy when no one else knows."
IT IS ALL A CONSTRUCT, DAMNIT. I'M SO GODDAMN SICK OF IT. And I know I'm not better than all of this. I care about my body, my hair, my clothes, the attention I get from men.
But I want to subvert the patriarchy and the culture too;
I don't WANT to remain under this pressure and construct. And I think it's taken by these women as me being up on my pedestal or something- which I don't want to be.

And my anger is rejected by these women so often; misunderstood and taken as an attack on them personally-- even though it is AT THE SYSTEM that I am PISSED OFF. I am so goddamn sick of it.
I want you to be able to say no. I want you to think that picture you hate of you is beautiful.
I barely have any words to describe this. I barely have words.

Vegan Carrot-Almond Spice Muffins

2010-05-20T11:20:00.005-04:00

Ingredients:
3/4 cup cane sugar
1/2 cup canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/4 cups grated carrot
1/2 cup soy milk
1 2/3-2 cups white whole wheat flour
2 Tbs Ground Flax Seed
1-2 teaspoon ground ginger
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup ground almond meal
2 ½ tsp apple cider vinegar

1. Preheat oven to 350˚ and lightly oil 24 muffin tins
2. Mix sugar, oil, vanilla, grated carrot, and soy milk in a large bowl.
3. Mix/Sift together the flour, flax seed, ginger, baking powder, salt, and almond meal into a medium bowl.
4. Add flour mixture to liquid mixture and mix just until combined.
5. Add the apple cider vinegar, stir and fold in gently. You will see pale swirls and bubbles starting to form.
6. Pour into muffin tins, filling 3/4 of the way full, NO MORE! They will rise and cook better this way!
7. Bake 25-30 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool about 5 minutes in the pan and then move onto a cooling rack.

So GOOD! So moist and fluffy. I'm telling you, it's all in the vinegar at the end. It makes all the difference in Vegan baking! So many vegan baked goods are so dense. Not these!

I made these today for my roommate who is moving away, and also for my lovely boss who is working many long hours; never sleeping, and forgetting to eat. I am proud! When I make these again, I think I'll add a bit more almond meal, and maybe sprinkle the tops (pre-baking) with some slices almonds. I wanted more almond. I also wanted some cardamom, but I couldn't find my ground cardamom this morning so these don't get it. But next time... that sounds great.

Also, that is a tiny cup of turkish coffee in the back. Highly recommend ANYTHING with Turkish coffee, but expecially baked goods. oh yes, ooh yes.

Also, Also, the colors in the picture don't seem to be coming through very well. The bread is a little more orange than the picture, warmer colors.

ps. a variation:
omit the almond meal, add oats instead,
and a handful or two of raisins,
and a shake or two of cinnamon.
before baking, cover tops of muffins with thin layer of oats for some presentation points.
delicious!

2010-05-18T23:56:00.004-04:00

The Shame of Quietness

And all misery come to me,
someone who keeps annoyances completely silent.
Oh, shut up. Stay under there!
The tablecloth trembling with desire to just
slop and dribble my secret everywhere-
to everyone- to be released into the raucous of some pillowed room.
In anger I stab with a livid fork, prodding any solid being
manifested under the stiff cloth.

Even I am afraid to look. The pang growing in my chest-
swelling up, the mortal immortal, neuter being
doubling over in size:
frightfully inept, and quite boisterous.
With a boldish effort I nudge and jab-
waiting like an expectant child for the soft rebound
of squashing prongs upon skin;
thick tar in the sun;
strangely elastic, stretched over too much fat--
expecting it,
the fork-prick;
but slowly elusive.

Delicious things.

2010-04-26T17:23:00.001-04:00

So, I actually stopped myself from eating this sandwich halfway to take a picture today. I always think of it after I've eaten the thing.

Grilled Tempeh Sandwich: with caramelized onions and roasted red pepper

Caramelize sliced white or red onions in a pan with some olive oil, after they are starting to soften, push them to the side of the pan and add a bit more oil and then the tempeh. Crack some fresh salt and pepper on the tempeh as it's grilling (if you have something heavy to put on them, it helps them cook evenly, but it's no too important).
Toast the bread as the tempeh and onions are almost done.
I like to put some Dijon mustard and veganaise on there, and lettuce if I have it (I didn't today).

But it's still delicious, especially with a little bit of coffee. and a porch to eat it on.

lots to update, but no time.

From Mary Oliver,

2010-03-31T13:40:00.003-04:00

From the complications of loving you
I think there is no end or return.
No answer, no coming out of it.

Which is the only way to love, isn't it?
This isn't a playground, this is
earth, our heaven, for a while.

Therefore I have given precedence
to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods
that hold you in the center of my world.

And I say to my body: grow thinner still.
And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song.
And I say to my heart: rave on.

the spring rises the dead.

2010-03-22T11:12:00.004-04:00

I've been avoiding this, like most things that seem too big to tackle and therefore continue on being the stagnant thing they are for months.
This includes my room. I'm in the midst of a cluttery chair piled with sweaters and a desk covered with paper and candles (good mix?) and tiny boxes. I have a new (old) dresser standing in the middle of the floor, waiting to be put to use. It's a nice dresser, made by my great grandfather; I'm eager (in some ways) to use it- reorganize and downsize by belongings.

So, for update on life: I'm swallowed almost completely with the theatre right now. In most ways, this is a blessing like I've never experienced; in others, I'm looking at the next few months with such apprehension as to how it will all work out schedule-wise and energy-to-keep-it-going-and-give-100%-to-each-thing-wise.
I was involved in the writing and staging of a show called I Don't Know, I Just Don't Know; a devising with 12 actors and an awesome stage crew based upon the idea of modern uncertainty; with a story line that could be catch-phrased in such a way:
"Can a therapist who doesn't believe in therapy, a man with carved duck heads, and a girl named Michael join together to save their community? I don't know, I just don't know."
If you didn't see it, sad day. It's a funny piece; first run, of course- it needs editing and all that. But I'm proud. I will have the DVD hopefully shortly.

Literally the day after that show closed we had auditions for the next show, Godspell, which I was fortunate to be cast in (for me, first show directed by Jeff). I love this show. I am always psyched for rehearsals, and I'm suprised this honeymoon stage hasn't worn off yet, honestly. But take it while you can. Simultaneously I'm directing a short piece for a class: WASP by Steve Martin (yes, that Steve Martin) with a cast of four friends. I also work for the North Shore YMCA Theatre Company, and we just finished casting our next show of the Music Man Jr. with two casts of about 60 children between the ages of 6-17. It's a blast, but my vocal chords are tired of projecting for hours on end.

So that's the main structure of my time/life as of now, with my other class meshed in there- as well as eating and sleeping and being at my house.

I just finished reading the Alchemist by Pauolo Coelho. A short read, and a worthy one. It is a contemplative discussion about a lot of relevant things. The story starts off with a prologue about the alchemist (an unnamed, ambiguous character at the moment) finding a book that belongs to someone in the caravan that you assume he is travelling with- retelling the story of Narcisuss: a young man who is so fascinted with his own beauty that one day he falls into the lake and drowns; and a flower grows up and blooms where he had been on the shore. But this particular telling ended with the goddess of the forest asking the lake why it had transformed into salt water (made of tears). It replied that is was weeping for Narcissus, not because of the loss of a great beauty, but rather because when Narcissus bent over and looked into the lake, the lake saw its own beauty reflected in his eyes.

Then the story starts, and you kind of just forget about the prologue- it starts off somewhere else, and the alchemist is just a mentioned character until near the end. And then after it was done, I remembered. The prologue! What's interesting about this is that the book is about following what the main character calls his "Personal Legend", which is probably a lot more beautiful in the original language of Portuguese, but no matter. It begged the question of me; isn't this selfish? This character, Santiago, drops everything and everyone to follow his "Personal Legend" and leans how to listen to his heart and all this (it's a stylized story; you have to allow yourself some corny-ness) to find his "treasure". The Alchemist, who he meets much later in the story, helps him to achieve a lot of this knowledge, simply by challenging him in the right ways. But I still felt a little uncomfortable (maybe a little jealous) about how he moved from place to place and people to people all in search and pursuit of his treasure. It seemed to be rooted in something that was slightly, well, narcissistic. The End. Then, I remembered the prologue and there was a mini circle that was formed; in searching for- and being able to see- your own 'Legend' (or, Beauty) other people also find theirs as well, both their meaning and beauty. And the fact that the Alchemist reads this story at the beginning (and comments on it "What a lovely story,") you get this feeling that the alchemist is a sort of god-figure, or a kind of all-knowing Gandalf (someone you would feel safe around, haha) someone who exists almost outside of time- as the prologue stands outside of the time of the story. You trust what he says and thinks for this reason, and when you view the story through the lens of the prologue, it can completely change the reading and meaning.
All that to say, I wish I read Portuguese. There's no doubt things are always better in their original language.

Oh, and happy Spring.
and, I need headshots.

On the Haitian Tragedy and how I can still go on Facebook.

2010-01-20T11:45:00.004-05:00

I can hardly believe the things that are happening in Haiti right now.
No accepted death toll, millions displaced and dying of simple trauma that would never be a death sentence in any other part of the world.
This is a disgrace to the world order. Relief shipments and planes of supplies are being turned away because of mass confusion and miscommunication.
I wish we lived in a world with a UN tragedy relief net so that these things are dealt with immediately and succinctly.
The world is broken, and nature does not give a flipping shit about us. The world is not beautiful.
I believe the natural world would exist without humanity, and perhaps it is striving to do so.

And yet, I still eat my breakfast, complain to myself how cold my feet are right now, and log onto Facebook.

Sometimes, I hate myself.

and I bend.

2009-12-22T01:32:00.003-05:00

That daisy in the window? That is me,

it is 1950. One daily rotation of the pot, a mere forty-five degrees

atop this turquoise sill.

I do lean back towards it- bubble small gum pop

and nose grease triangles:

distractions to the faint of heart. But I know what I want.

that heat I crave, the tempter of my gain, the lover

who explains.

Curving like a lady, twisting amongst a pole,

those forty-five degrees, creating a tapestry:

while she’s pushing back her cuticles,

I twirl as a curl of lace.

I stare out among the thorns, those

stems protruding machetes like a

hapless guerilla. divide and conquer. divide—

If only we got report cards on our lives,

2009-12-12T21:47:00.004-05:00

we would know how we were doing. Except, ahhh I am failing at life right now.

I have goals set, but it is all for naught.
This is the beginning of a long winter in which I am a small bump nestled on a rotting log, holed away in some cavern drinking day old tea.

and god, this paper will not come to me.

So, you like the taste of meat.

2009-11-05T11:51:00.007-05:00

You like the smell of it in the morning as bacon. You love the BBQ, the grilling, the supple meat that falls off the bone. You don't mind the word "slaughter house". Educate yourselves. HERE.

This is truth, and NOT an exception.
There is no way to avoid, nothing you can argue to make this acceptable; nothing to refute its large-scale truth here in America. Why should we allow something this grotesque just for the taste in our mouths- a momentary pleasure that will never satisfy?

You think you care about sustainability? CARE BIGGER.
Factory farming is without a doubt the NUMBER ONE contributor to environmental corruption and decrease.
the effect of factory farming on the environment.

New York Times Article
from this article:
“I’m not sure that the system we have for livestock can be sustainable,” said Dr. Pachauri of the United Nations. A sober scientist, he suggests that “the most attractive” near-term solution is for everyone simply to “reduce meat consumption,” a change he says would have more effect than switching to a hybrid car.
..Soy cultivation has doubled in Brazil during the past decade, and more than half is used for animal feed.
...Estimates of emissions from agriculture as a percentage of all emissions vary widely from country to country, but they are clearly over 50 percent in big agricultural and meat-producing countries like Brazil, Australia and New Zealand."

This article is arguably even in favor of meat-eating, but acknowledges the excessive impact that the meat industry has on the environment. Read it.

Friends, the true heart of a person is determined by his/her treatment of animals. A truly heroic kindness is compassion for an animal; for an animal cannot give anything back. God has dominion power over us, but does he exploit us for his own gain? It is not just about the rights of animals, but the mercy and compassion of man enacting the model God has set for his creation.

A human being is a part of the whole, called by us the “Universe,” a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest ~ a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us.

Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself a part of the liberation, and a foundation for inner security.
-- Albert Einstein

There are only two responses. ACTION, or LAZINESS.
And friends, I am lazy; so lazy; all the time. We must strive for this, and that will be the liberation from our small limitations for love and compassion.

What you do unto the least of these, my brothers....

2009-10-23T00:23:00.000-04:00

If God is Love, and Love is Real...

too many things to think of, I must sleep.

Delicious Vegan Maple-Pecan Shortbread Cookies

2009-10-15T14:42:00.007-04:00

This is a found-and-modified recipe!

Delicious Vegan Maple-Pecan Shortbread Cookies

1 cup pecans (heaping!)
1 cup rolled oats or spelt flakes
½ cup unbleached white flour
½ cup fine Corn flour
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 t. baking powder
1/2 t. salt
1/4 t. cinnamon
1/3 cup earth balance, softened
1/4 cup maple syrup/agave syrup
2 t. vanilla
optional: whole pecan halves to press into top before baking

In a blender or food processor, place the pecans, and pulse a few times to roughly chop. Transfer 1/3 cup of the chopped pecans to a small bowl and set aside. Add the oats/spelt flakes to the remaining pecans in the blender and process to finely grind them together. Add the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon, pulse a few times to combine, and set aside. In a medium bowl, place the earth balance, maple syrup, and vanilla, and stir the mixture until smooth. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir well to combine. Add the reserved chopped pecans.

Using your hands, roll into 1” balls and flatten, pressing pecan half into top, if using. Bake at 325 degrees for 10-15 minutes or until lightly browned on the bottom. Cool on the cookie sheets for 3 minutes before transferring them to a rack to cool completely. Store the cookies in an airtight container.

This recipe would also be easy to make gluten-free if needed. Replace white flour with sorghum flour, and use rolled oats. EASY PEESY.

Ches- the Prancing Pony

2009-10-14T13:39:00.003-04:00

this morning I delighted myself by sitting in the first booth in the prancing pony- in the light that was pooling onto the table, and reminiscing in such sentimentality for those mornings, days, afternoons, evenings of studying in there for Hebrew, listening to chatterings about Romans and Galatians, some silly group of sophomores playing Justin Timberlake in the next booth, many wrapped muffins, the dark wood, the tiny flashcards.
I miss it all. The silly group of sophomores thing actually did happen today, so I had something real to work with...
And then lo and behold, Shlomes himself pops around the corner, awaking in me the realization that I forgot the vegan cookies I was going to bring to him this morning before his test and flight. woops. But there he was, which made the small fantasy world more real, though we were missing some real treasured people to make the moment complete. One of those things being... time.
...Oh well, right? I'm not so sure I'm okay with all of this slipping away so fast.

I miss so many things. This weather has me caught by the throat I feel, I can't let it go because it has me against my will. though I do relish in the memory moments.
And, I miss so many things. Like, I miss them; I miss the occurrences. I'm too busy sniffling and blinking and counting that I miss things that happen. Maybe it is because of the things that I long for, I don't know.
But I'm thoroughly at the point of loneliness. And on my teabag paper tag yesterday there was a quote from mark twain (I think it was) something along the lines of 'true loneliness is in not being comfortable with yourself.'

and I thought, how poignant.

Vegetarianism... and Parenting

2009-10-12T09:36:00.004-04:00

Every factory-farmed animal is, as a practice, treated in ways that would be illegal if it were a dog or a cat. Turkeys have been so genetically modified they are incapable of natural reproduction. To acknowledge that these things matter is not sentimental. It is a confrontation with the facts about animals and ourselves. We know these things matter.

...

I won’t measure my success as a parent by whether my children share my values, but by whether they act according to their own.

--Jonathan Safran Foer
in THIS ARTICLE, which was given to me by Shlomy on why and how he gave up meat.

Two great words of wisdom.

I’m a collector of interesting voices.

2009-10-05T00:17:00.002-04:00

Ears:
my bits of tiny fly paper
pink and sensitive, scratched hard.
with elbows on wood, a table set
for Kings, Joshua, Judges,
Ruth.

And being so easily persuaded;
my fall is too hard and my rising too heavy
without your help.
Please, don’t let me speak. I repel even those who love
the lowest.
Just support me with your frame-
for here’s a setback in refinement,
as iron on iron no longer inspires.

I am isolated but for a costly few-
what have I given of myself?
please save me! I’m crying all the time!
I’m at the threshold of your door,
beneath your windowsill.
Let me inside!—or rather, let You inside of me!
You know where to saturate
and satiate completely.

I am that table, and God-
He was at one time, the tablecloth;
pouring out my mouth like a trembling April moth,
drawn to the light outside the door-
the drone entering my sticky tunnel;
binding to the walls with such strength.
But he’s not in there anymore.
oh, here’s just a platter of numb disciples portraying a band-aid.
no one is here.
No one is here to notice the unclothed table:
the silverware is gone, gone. And the dishes-
they are gone too. but the wine glasses;
the wine glasses, the wine glasses,
they are filled.

2009-09-30T20:03:00.001-04:00

your eyes are just like Hitler’s.
same with your brown hair; it’s been before-
but those blue eyes.
So what is distinguishable- if all our pieces are reused and recycled
in the shape of another similar body? If it’s all the same-
the golden hair, the freckles, that small mole on your upper arm—
You’re not the first to have.
Certainly never the last.
When you pass, someone will claim those eyes;
your son, or perhaps a complete stranger.
They will be in the world, continually—
as the only way to deal with death. The only way
to explain longevity, your baby boy
carrying your eyes until another takes his place.
And someone will kill him, someone will trash him through
the heart; he’ll succeed in all things war. and those eyes will hit the ground and
be simultaneously reborn in the screaming infant
produced with downs syndrome, but those blue eyes.
what things shall they see, what specimen they ingest.
what goods they will steal.

good morning, neverland.

2009-09-23T10:51:00.001-04:00

On lack of words in general, I'm glad to be back to some state of talking. I am currently soaking up the air outside on our NEW and AWESOME back porch, and the wind is absolutely healing.
This is one of those moments where nothing can capture the experience, I feel it in my gut. It's almost like crying, in joy, my intestines are quivering. This may also be the coffee I drank out here an hour ago.

But it's a glorious day. The neighbors are playing with their dog. He's huge. And from my second story perch, I can oversee our backyard (compost and all) and beyond to the tracks and the unbeknown pedestrians walking from their cars, skipping to their cars, or crossing the blue divide in a glass tunnel.

So much coffee in the world. I wonder how this generation will last.

Ah the smell. porch wood, vines in trees, cat, coffee, new clothes, old cushions.

I have been realizing more the things for which I am homesick. I can't place my finger on all of them- and most of them are an emotion or feeling- or state of mind- that I miss with different parts of me. I can commit one to being missed with my whole heart- that would be an exaggeration anyway- but I find it more and more difficult to define what my heart is anyway.

I am homesick for oatmeal mornings. For the feeling of visitors. For my old apartments: their stairs, potted plants, pumpkin pancakes, and draperies. I am homesick for the knowledge of being needed. and the knowledge of myself.

These 'self-discovery' times are so intense that I'm finding it hard to know what is real. I find things out- I feel them deeply, and then feel lost for words to express anything, and then become a silent things that is at the quiet mercy of the fleeting emotions. I don't know what is real, I don't know what is me or what discoveries I can trust. I don't even know what a discovery is for godssake. And it gets me enraged. And then I say nothing, write nothing. This is the best I have right now, and it's hard for me to let even this go-- and vague as it is.

I'm stretching more, which is good. Voice class has this tendency, excellente.

let me break here for a play-by-play moment: a bright blue truck has pulled up across the street to water the two tiny yellow potted plants hanging next to 120A and B. The side is marked with "NONPOTABLE WATER", because the obvious first idea would be to drink from it's long red grimy hose. Don't do it, I'm on the side that says nonpotable, I know these things.

I have a fear. Theatre classes have this uncanny way of making me uncover things that want to remain covered. It's a tricky question to answer whether it's better to leave them quietly shielded, whether it's healthier. Probably not in the long run, but it's hard during school- (life) when you're meant to perform PERFORM write WRITE PAPERS present, WRITE, TALK. I'm in a state of listening. And listening not for the purpose of responding. I don't trust myself, I don't want to say anything. School requires this, unfortunately for me. And here I am gone done signed up for classes, and I can't guarantee that I'll be able to perform when the time comes. This is scary. What if I fail.

Oh wiat, I did. Not too long ago either, mind you. What the hell am I doing to myself.

But I'm stuck now, and forced to decide to make the best of it. Now I just need to decide to make the best of it. Is the best of it worth it? Really though. Is it?

So much money. I hate money. hate.

In better words and things, this moment right now is as close as I've gotten to--in years probably-- to my fantasy of sitting on a hill surrounded by grass, somewhere in the UK, writing poetry in a tiny notebook. This is not necessarily a dream of mine, or something I ever see happening on a regular basis, or in my plans to do-- more like a fantasy world moment that I've had for many years. It used to be a dream, I think. But now I find it wholly unfulfilling, selfish, clout. I don't think 'clout' fits as a defined word here, so if you don't know what it means, just listen to it's sound. Thats what it means to me. and if you do know what it means, do the same.
But here I am, freshly showered (last night, so I have dried hair in the shape of a peacock.) new leggings, my mom's big sweater surrounding, no bra, no makeup. soft cushion, relaxed stomach free of vanity, relaxed face muscles free of smile or frown. The perfect temperature. The perfect sun, alighting one knee and leg with it's warmness. It's funny when one realizes a moment fulfills a fantasy that you've been carrying for years.what a delightful realization. It must end in five minutes (or sooner) depending on how long my computer battery will last, not being plugged in. Yes, it just beeped at me.
I also have class. and once again, I have not written a single journal entry for htis class since the last time I passed it in. figures.

But I have this, even if it's not to show.

so much.

2009-09-03T13:30:00.003-04:00

My lack of posting of anything not remotely deemed recent is in no way related to lack of brain activity, but I suppose lack of coherency of anything worth discussing at length with anyone but myself. There is so much conversation- so many words and idea, perhaps some listening here and there, but overall I find it very exhausting and barely want to repeat or record any of the thoughts or conversations I have to coherent words put together. I don't know, really.

I've been thinking a lot about faith, religion.
...and that's exactly why I didn't want to write anything about it, because of your reaction you just had, just now. I mean, of course I'm thinking about faith. who isn't.

I'm having a lot of issues with church. I'm turned off by it right now, and I can't figure out exactly how this has happened- what exactly lead to this thing.

And again, I can't even write about it. I have no motivation to write it all out. I thought forcing myself might work. but it doesn't.

I also hate writing, right now.

go figure.

and eat your cake,

2009-07-25T01:19:00.003-04:00

Good (early) morning!

I had to post the link to the most delicious vegan chocolate cake EVER
I did not make the glaze (made a vegan frosting- bu it is amazing just by itself), or mix it in a pan (I used a bowl)

It is moist and sosososooo good!!
Warning though: it had a hard time coming out of the pan, so I would recommend the parchment paper--- or cupcake style! that would be so yum.

I feel like I iwll be making this again. very very soon.

oddly enough, too: I followed the recipe practically to a T, which is not usual for me.

but I loved it. easy peesy. delicious.

2009-07-23T11:04:00.000-04:00

God, oh God breathe into me,
make my roots explore, beg my head to spring up
the sprout of God is God, and I have no want left in me but to be that.
What can I do?
Wait? Wait.

feelings. doings.

2009-07-15T17:41:00.003-04:00

old, young, alive, sitting in the library, working, chewing gum, bouncing a knee, missing people, thirsty, itching an eye, typing, listening.

also I can't help but say that mewithoutYou was beyond unbelievable live. beyond. unbelievable.

2009-06-20T10:40:00.001-04:00

I am full of something,
but no words.

This is the cutest.

2009-06-13T16:36:00.001-04:00

pink tongue

COME KITTIES, COME

In Southie. I've never hung out here for an extended period of time. Very neighborhood feely. I kind of like it. Plus I just had a pretty yum falafel pita. I'm at.... Amsterdam Cafe. wifi + couches = good right now. Hectic morning with a fashion show. It really wasn't that large, but there was a variable amount of stress to be had (and was had). I did makeup first for a few models (fun), was told I was like an artist with a canvas, watched a pretty awesome stomp team perform, organized and labeled outfits and accessories for models, did some management.

The other make-up artist came up from New Jersey (I thought I was coming from fairly far away...), although she doesn't do make-up professionally either (not being trained- like me) but she was very all about it. At first I felt a little intimidated, but I played off of her style (she had already done a few models by the time I got there) so that our models wouldn't look drastically different. She was doing big make-up, and I'm more into the natural-look. Unfortunately, she was the one who purchased the make-up we used, so there wasn't any natural colors so I just had pinks, blues, purples, and grays to work with. I made it work.

I have to say, having too many people managing things gets to be too complicated. I tried to stay out of the way and just be efficient during the actual show.

It's quite warm, and there was absolutely no air conditioning.

There is an interesting conversation happening across the way from me. I can't tell what language these two men are speaking. It's not quite German.

I just want to record somewhere the hilarity that was this morning: trying to figure out what the HECK to wear to a fashion show for goodness sake. Suzanne was my audience for my small fashion show trying to find something decent. And then I put some makeup on. Funny thing.

there is a giant dog outside the front window. I want to give it a hug.

I should be working on my play, but instead I'm writing this and listening to Lauryn Hill.
yes.

2009-06-12T10:02:00.002-04:00

AAAAND, just bought tickets to mewithoutYou on July 11!

for my birthday. everyone come.
buy here
$18.30 total

things n things

2009-06-09T18:19:00.002-04:00

BLOG to follow: http://22ropes.blogspot.com/

It is the blog of the community house of which I am now a part. We are on a great adventure. And so far, it's . I have no words.

I have no internet at my house, so everything is slowing down and I can't post often. poo.

-------------------------------------------

The crumpled bodies of worms,
moist and pallid one day--
dried and browned the next;
as it is with most things.
The small sort of warmth of your hand on
my shoulder, sitting quite still. Voicing
prayers of wax, melting and re-forming
into the shapes of our bodies.
We are so close together,
barely touching with a slight sway
in your direction, and a wisp of your hair.
It is heated from the sun, dark and unruly--
climbing about your face and toggling your beard
with many fingers.

All things pass away, even this.
even this.
Soon, you are going
to the rain and snow--
And I will stay here.

Your teeth are hiding- glimpsing the air slowly
out one side of your mouth,
and that little tilt of your head to the right.
Your hair is quite long now,
different. As you are.
even this.

2009-05-17T21:58:00.002-04:00

are things finally over, ever? I doubt it.

things linger, if you can understand
this small concept.
I believe,
this is a small portion of my life,
waiting in front of me-
but it seems so very large.
so very large.
catastrophe of impending things, with a small child
furtively singing holding a guitar
delicate in the corner of a very small room.
a cat crosses the floor in her shy way;
flipping over a small beetle, emotionless
pondering,
leaving the tiny legs to squirm, squirm in the air.
and a soft tinkering of fancy guitar-work from the tendered
and padded hands of a weathered man, far off-
a wordless tune coming gently with the morning breeze
between the two curtains.
the ground is far below these thoughts-
streaming like incense tendrils,
puffing into nothingness
about four feet up.

For Rachel.

2009-05-12T12:42:00.003-04:00

Yummy Tea Spice Cake

1 ½ C oat flour
½ C oat bran
1/3 C soy flour
3 Tbs Tapioca flour
1 Tbs Cinnamon
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp ginger
½ tsp salt
1 Tbs milled flax seed
¼ C unsweetened organic applesauce
2 Tbs Vegetable oil
¾ C honey, Agave, Date, Prune puree (see recipe below)
2 tsp vinegar
2 tsp Vanilla Extract
scant 1 C strong tea (chai! or other black tea)

1) Preheat oven 350 F. Set the tea to steep: 1 cup hot water with two tea bags.

2) Combine dry ingredients in medium bowl and set aside.

3) Make Sugar Puree: Over medium-low heat, combine honey, agave, dates, and prunes (whatever mix you have available) and stir until dates and prunes are soft (about 5-7 minutes) and then blend in food processor until smooth. Easy!

4) Add the puree to the dry ingredients, along with applesauce, oil, vinegar, vanilla, and slowly while stirring, the tea. Stir until well blended.

5) Pour into a loaf pan (or 8x8 pan), greased lightly. Let stand for a few minutes.

6) Bake for 25-30 minutes, until toothpick comes out clean. Let cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto wire rack.

Vegan, Gluten and Sugar-Cane FREE!

this is really really good. I made it last night. It is almost gone now.

Oh my, what a lovefly day.

2009-05-10T15:11:00.003-04:00

I just was about to change that typo to 'lovely' like I had originally intended, but have decided better of it.

this spoon of hummus tastes really good, though I just found a surprise lemon seed in there.

Jasper is really such a joy.

Mother's Day. Hallmark planned holiday or not:
Thanks to my mom for carrying me around for 9+ months, every day EVERY SECOND even when you wanted to put me down and be skinny again, or when you got sick and felt like forgetting all this, or when a baby sounded like too much change, too much responsibility, or when you wanted to do cartwheels in those final months.

I will miss that when I'm pregnant. if ever that happens, that is.

Is it okay to cartwheel when pregnant? That will be a question I will have to find out at some point.

I still hate the word pregnant. embarazado is a little better, although that sounds like apologizing.

Well, it is Spring. It has sprung. Time for long skirts and short hair.
and tulips.

and sun iced tea!

sometimes

2009-05-06T15:57:00.006-04:00

Why is there that little irk inside me that makes me feel like a pile of poo.
that I'm missing out on the college biz,
I don't have enough friends, the right friends-
I'm not who I should be, there's so many things
missing, missed out on,
forgotten, damaged, distant,
I'm not creative enough, smart enough,
clever enough,
I don't get out there
enough,
I'm not comfortable alone.
that I should be doing something else, somewhere else--
digging in more, waiting more,
reading more, studying MORE, BEING MORE.
and time is wasting, I'm sitting so still and crying often,
looking through the screens around this place
and wondering if everything is really illuminated and
framed by little black squares.
why are you there, little irk?
you smell so sick, so much of uncomfortable and of puking.

2009-05-04T22:58:00.001-04:00

I wish that I could embody this moment right now.

It’s odd. caffeinated, juxtaposed.

confusing. awareness of contingencies soon to happen…

Relax those shoulders with the exhale,

I’ve been sitting all day. I’m sitting so much. Basic metabolic rate

seething in my direction, foaming at the mouth-

raging inside like a pantomime at a conference.

Steady now, raise you face

upwards, talk amongst yourselves, lessen the blow

around the ring of posies,

and a poser-

stalling for time, tall as a building,

a knockout. Celluliteless.

Un-aged by time or trauma. Toxic to timidity,

and stumbling over words wont to spill

kindred spirits of this life, and why do you leave so often?

I wonder why you are so far fetched at times-

when I feel like I need you most.

Far fetched. Like a wandering idea, a furious bull

tangible and torrential

unending, unending unending uneeeeeennding

I’ve run out of things, I’ve run out-

manage without:

Catcher! Oh my Catcher!

snatch me from the lip. the absolute

lip.

He made the world a grassy road before our bare, wandering feet

2009-05-02T15:30:00.004-04:00

and crushed the stones into the softest sand between our toes-
but we're wondering where to sleep.
Clever words on pages turn to fragments, circles, points and lines,
and cover them like carpets; with graceful, meaningless ornamental designs.
Come quick, you light that knows no evening-- Come, alone to the alone!
I have a thousand half-loves well worth leaving
for to take your madness home.

and you dance inside my chest where no on sees you,
but sometimes I see you.

------------------------------------------------------------------
I wish I wrote this.

I have so much in me right now, and no words to write. at all.

I’ve come a long way; I’ve come to miss your mellow tone.

2009-04-28T00:11:00.002-04:00

the zenith hum, the perfect strum-
I have become com-ple-te-ly numb.
tone of your heartbeat, tone of your breathing,
tone of your fingertips I’m receiving...

oh Carbon Leaf, there is a place for you in my heart.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

...and there was evening and morning, the thousandth day ever.

Never give up, never surrender!

2009-04-21T14:24:00.002-04:00

A good dose of extravagant self-propulsion is in order.

now, carry on.

I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand. I and the Father are one.
-Jesus
(as recorded by John in 10:28-30)

I kind of hate this,

2009-04-20T22:52:00.002-04:00

Firstly because, every time I sit down with the intention to write something my mind goes blank and I sit there staring at these tan bars with an empty white text box.

Secondly, who reads this.

Thirdly, why do I feel it necessary to write anything at all for someone else to read.

Fourthly, why do I think that I can somehow write something that is interesting enough for anyone to read.

Fifthly, I'm sick of reading things and feeling like an idiot.

there's more, but I'll stop there.

Irony has me completely at her whim right now; utterly, utterly laughing.

Has anyone else felt like everything worth while has been scheduled to take place on THE EXACT SAME DAY????
why.

In other news.
My dear friend Nate is getting married in barely over 30 days. I miss him so, and feel like a long lost sister who never gets to talk to her brother.

I am: utterly utterly utterly excited about living in the community this summer. hoping that this job will work out. scared of burn out and of laziness, and yet quite overtaken by negligence and procrastination, and general lack of motivation and a foggy head. A little sad, a little looking at the light up there ahead somewhere I think.

April 25: The Rescue.
Boston.
3pm.

you can look this up further: http://therescue.invisiblechildren.com/

also, I have been wearing the same shirt everyday. Supposedly two, but only one for many days because I lost one for a long period of time which ended today when I discovered it in the laundry. So, two shirts.

One depicting an AK-47 strapped to my chest like many child soldiers in Uganda.

The other colorfully depicting my love for the LRA, which is 90% composed of abducted children forced to kill.

love these children, my friends. Love them in prayer, love them by coming to the rescue event this Saturday.

---------------------------------------------

God, I need prayer. this world need radical things, God. a radical Jesus.

2009-03-20T13:13:00.005-04:00

my latest yummy.

It’s never been that quiet, I’ve found.

It’s never that quiet that I think-

that specific quietness that I want so very much I could scream

if I could find it afterwards.

But even this morning, lying on the rug-

I heard my own ears. The buffeting sharpness

that is the constant ring inside my canals;

the tiny hairs in there being tussled by air flow.

Even then, it remains the same as it’s always been:

almost there.

And, it really isn’t comforting. I’d rather

hear the peepers, or the tree frogs latching on the porch door

with a slap; or the high winds

over me being whipped around.

just the echo of the last sound I heard- that rumble that

my drum

can’t get rid of.

2009-03-05T15:11:00.002-05:00

Daniel broke the king's decree,
Peter stepped from the ship to the sea
there was hope for Job like a cut down tree,
I hope that there's such hope for me.

dust be on my mind's conceptions
and anything I thought I knew
each word of my lips' description,
and on all that I compare to You

[the preference of the sun was
to the south side of the farm
I planted to the north in a terra-cotta pot
blind as I'd become, I used to wonder where you are-
these days I can't find where you're not!]

mine's been a yard carefully surface tended
foxes burrowed underground
my gardening so highly self-recommended,
what could I have done but let you down?

the sun and the moon,
I want to see both worlds as One!

mine's been a vivid story, dimly remembered
and by the hundredth time it's told, halfway true
of bad behavior well engendered
what good is each good thing we think we do?

[find a friend and stay close and with a melting heart
tell them whatever you're most ashamed of-
our parents have made so many mistakes,
but may we forgive them and forgive ourselves]

the sun and the moon are my Father's eyes

2009-02-23T23:23:00.003-05:00

Our greatest problem is not how to continue but how to return. "How can I repay unto the Lord his bountiful dealings with me?" (Psalm 116:12). When life is an answer, death is a home-coming.

The deepest wisdom a man can attain is to know that his destiny is to aid, to serve. ...

This is the meaning of death: the ultimate self-dedication to the divine. Death so understood will not be distorted by the craving for immortality, for this act of giving away is the reciprocity on man's part for God's gift of life.
For the pious man it is a privilege to die.

- Abraham J Heschel

I doubt I will ever reach a point in my life where I can deem any of my words--spoken or written--to be as pungent and straightforward with authority as these.

What does it take?
I am no theologian. I am no philosopher. I am not seventy, or eighty.

I'm twenty. Hopelessly, twenty. As if it is somehow my fault for being younger than I feel, or older than perhaps I look. Some people probably think they are somehow better than me because they are older. I'm not "allowed to drink" and all that frivolity.

Well whooppie.

I do not understand this.

I do feel: helplessly uninspired and bored out of my head with restlessness of here.

ah, I'm frustrated tonight.

shane claiborne, and all the southern mother teresas

2009-02-22T22:57:00.002-05:00

Park Street at 7pm yesterday: a gathering of nose-ringed-dred-locked-salvo-clothed-college kids, I'm-a-young-mother-but-that-doesn't-stop-me-from-being-here women, later-middle-aged-button-up-just-came-from-the-business-meeting gentlemen, we've-been-recycling-and-eating-organic-since-you-folks-were-born couples, I've-worn-this-shirt-all-week guys, and I-go-to-gordon folks.

Especially the latter.

Well, I specify (or unspecify) the stereotype for a sort of reason. We were all there, we all laughed at the same jokes, sang the same songs (and did a little howdy-ho knee slapping in our heads), we were challenged with the same challenges.

The Simple Way

Awesome weekend spent in Boston.
In other news, I am taking next semester off. I said it.

I got a lovely yellow candle today, lemongrass and orange. It smells sweet like lemon-lime soda. It smells SO GOOD. I didn't even have to burn it, it smelled up my whole room. That's when you know you're in the presence of a good candle.

2009-02-18T20:53:00.003-05:00

The snow can go away now.

New Year, New Home, New Major, New Classes, New Day.

2009-01-19T11:25:00.003-05:00

Year: This year I hope to read more. It snowed last night and today I am snuggled and reading Six Names of Beauty by Sartwell. Luscious stuff.

Home: The home is lovely, warm, clean, full of fabric and candles, and lacking visitation hours. We cook with gas here, which makes everything taste better. I love the girls, and I foresee wonderful times ahead. Jasper the kitty (not really a kitty anymore) is living with us too; giving us a nice dose of male presence all day long (except when he is hiding in the closet). He has recently discovered the shower head and its many dripping wonders.
Last night was a grand housewarming get together. I am so blessed to be surrounded by such excellence.

Major: Yes, again. I'm now Philosophy and Theatre.

Classes: Exciting. Aesthetics, Playwriting, Hebrew II, Justice.

Day: Snow dusting every branch, no matter how seemingly insignificant. Just like people. I need to remember that. I'm not trying to be corny here, much as its not working.
Shlomy is right: let us be fully present every day. I know I will be failing at that a lot. I apologize sincerely to you if you have felt slighted by me in any way, and I am sorry for my selfishness.

In other news, Jasper woke me up this morning purring loudly in my face (very adorable!) because, I assumed, he was hungry. So, I got up and fed him and he was ravenously pushing me out of the way to get to the bowl- he even was licking the knife I used to cut his gelatinous food mass (always delicious) into his bowl. This was about 9am. So, 9:30 Rachel wakes up and says that she had already fed him at 7. Very sneaky. Very sneaky indeed. Now he is lounging under my side table- his new favorite spot when he can't get into the closet.

Thoughts on an Orange.

2009-01-17T01:06:00.004-05:00

What is it, exactly, that’s like

popping in your mouth a section of orange

and crudely crunching on a seed,

knowing it’s broken into so many pieces-

there’s no way to get them all out.

I wonder if performing abdominal surgery

is very much like using the end of my pencil

to tear the papery flesh membrane of

the thinner part of an orange wedge—

still attached to the remaining

half-or-so of round crystalline fruit—

to victoriously poke out a seed.

III

What makes a good orange?

malleable

meaty and crisp

vibrant and cool,

cleansing

clear; not dusty

a few seeds.

2009-01-05T15:44:00.002-05:00

In this place, in a colorful armchair hugging my knees, carefully sitting crosslegged.
Perfectly put, with a sweatered, pacing man waiting for a webpage to load or for a phone call.
Many composition notebooks. A muscled leather coat that's been touched by many hands and years secured over the shoulders of the tall chair. He's standing now. Tapping a boot-toe on the ground. Over and over. Backing up, going forward; bending at the knee. Leaning over, pulling on the leather. Tapping heels on the ground, stretching calves.
Ever the pull of the computer screen,
pulling his eyes.

Then, he is gone.

I can't find a good enough video of this song, but go listen to it.
The Commander Thinks Aloud by The Long Winters

Panera coffee is awful.

2009-01-03T16:09:00.003-05:00

Ah the rainy Saturday. Lying on a big smooshy bed in my pjs, I'm not going out today.
I finally have a space heater, so I can feel my hands and face.
I'm telling you, musings with turkish coffee and the best sugar cookies no kidding (that is the actual recipe name) are racking up to be quite the frequent pastime these past weeks.

But, I do miss the outward sprawl.

and these people.

once I find my camera, more pictures.

Hello, Advent.

2008-12-18T05:33:00.009-05:00

I will be missing my women.

a toast to graduatedness and....
peace - salaam - shalom
finals being almost done
life
success
motivation

the thousandth day ever

2008-12-16T15:16:00.006-05:00

It is, it seems: the thousandth day ever. Semesters fly, they stall, they crash. I have no idea what time warp I'm in, but seriously, this must be some serious fun I'm having for things to go by like this.

the Decemberists. My inner radio is on repeat, I'm thinking.

My living room smells like sponges and homemade hot-chocolate (not the best mixture)
the colors seem a little gray except for the pile of presents uniformly covered in red paper with tiny snowmen. They add a nice feel to this place.

back to the days of my favorite words.
placate, fiction, glorious, bountiful
conservation, nativity, allocate
lovely.

Finally

2008-12-15T11:24:00.002-05:00

I think we have an apartment. It is a cute, 2 bedroom place with a pretty large living room (bump-out window!) and a sunflower border in the kitchen. Gas stove, so we can cook good things. Laundry right in the kitchen. Hopefully that will be good (loud?). but I think this is good. I hope we hear back before Thursday whether we got it.

I am not prepared for my History final tomorrow, and I'm not sure what it would take for me to feel prepared. I am studying now.

I really like writing plays. I am very much looking forward to playwriting next semester. Perhaps it will help me know if that is a calling of mine.

Sunshine and 50 degrees today.

לחיים ואת אהבת האמת
to life and love and truth

Lullaby

2008-11-16T19:00:00.005-05:00

Oh Happy Seven.

42 (Street) = number involved with an awesome play today. awesome.
5.5 = average number of hours I spend sleeping a night
15 = number of books I want to read very, very soon.
0.5 = percentage of said books that I have gotten to.
843098401 = number of things I have to do before Thanksgiving
11 = days until Thanksgiving

Today I met Riley. He is a small doggie with curly white hairs. He loved my long white skirt and wanted to go under it when I was crouching down. He also wanted to kiss me very badly.

Cloud Cult was very very good on Thursday. I am short, so I enjoyed it sitting down or standing on a bench to the side. It was still very very good. Mixed well. The strings blew me away. The cello-violin duet harmonies are absolutely beautiful.

I just had a big bowl of cereal. I like that stuff way too much.

Psalm 94:17

If the LORD had not been my help,
My soul would soon have dwelt in the abode of silence.

If God hadn't been there for me,
I never would have made it.

Suppose the Lord had not helped me.
Then I would soon have been lying quietly in the grave.

Unless the Lord had helped me,
I would soon have settled in the silence of the grave.

Pebble the Vote

2008-11-04T09:32:00.003-05:00

rock, stone, pebble, boulder, sand, stalagmite, geode the vote.

Yeah, well. It's a new day, but I'm still sweating like I was yesterday, I still hunger, I still thirst.

I vote to vote every day. Shane Claiborne put it well on Sunday; I'm thankful that I was able to hear that. It gave validation to what I was already thinking: the last chapter in Jesus for President.

I vote every day with my actions and my love. Redemption does not come through the government. I did not really feel strongly 'one way or another about this election; as cooky as that may sound. I did not feel like my vote would be strongly backed by some obligation. So I am a non-vote. I am not unaware or apathetic. It's my choice. Coming out to support the country and to have my voice heard one day every four years is not the way I want to live my walk with Christ. It's more important, and it is more immediate.

Vulnerability of the nations rests in the hands of each other.
Vulnerability is in my hands. And I will do with it what I can. I could not find enough validation to support any candidate for president. I will make my efforts to bolster the Church, and activate deadness in the world around me. There is so much to do. Let's not sit on our asses and wait for the new president to pick us up out of the dirt. This dirt is spiritual, and it is physical. And it is real. Love in amazing ways, and dirt will become less and less heavy and blinding. Perhaps the Church can begin again and draw close to the definition of the Early Church of the Bible; what the Church is meant to be. What is that? What IS that?

------------------------------------------------

I was a pharisee,
I never saw my need for grace.
Then your love came to me
stood next to mine, and I saw that I was poor.

Show me I was poor.
Show us we are,
show us we are.

Glory, glorious.
We are glory, glorious.
Not from what good we have done
but from being the least.

Oh, I don't know how I was made.

My heaven tower sways atop their fleeting praise.
God, I don't know how I was made.

Sleeping at Last.

2008-10-25T21:40:00.004-04:00

When the world welcomes us in,
We’re closer to Heaven than we’ll ever know.
They say this place has changed,
But strip away all of the technology
And you will see
That we all are hunters,
Hunting for something that will make us okay.

Here we lay alone in hospital beds,
Tracing life in our heads;
But all that is left
Is that this was our entrance and now it’s our exit,
As we find our way home.

All the blood and all the sweat
That we invested to be loved
Follows us into our end,
Where we begin to understand

That we are made of love,
And all the beauty stemming from it.
We are made of love,
And every fracture caused by the lack of it.

“You were a million years of work,”
Said God and His angels, with needle and thread.
They kissed your head and said,
“You’re a good kid and you make us proud.
So just give your best and the rest will come,
And we’ll see you soon.”

All the blood and all the sweat
That we invested to be loved
Follows us into our end,
Where we begin to understand

That maybe Hollywood was right:
When the credits have rolled and the tears have dried,
The answers that we have been dying to find
Are all pieced together and, somehow,
Made perfectly mine.

We are made of love,
And all the beauty stemming from it.
We are made of love,
And every fracture caused by the lack of love.

-----------

yes, yes.
yes.
undeniably yes.

Just do your best, and the rest will come.

I am disappointed with Copeland's new CD. I will continue to listen to it to give it a full chance to grow on me, but in all it seems to be lacking in innovation.

I love working at Claymore. Steaming milk is so satisfying, especially when I get the real silk microfoam. yeehaw

Today was a beautiful day, as tired as I am. It is not over- I must get some homework completed before sleep tonight.

I had a wonderful conversation with a man today in Boston. He is a wonderful person- growing in faith and fighting his own demons and battles, inside and out. We prayed together and I know God is at work in his life. He is searching for work, but followed to every encounter in his job-search with his record; which is not the best. He regrets so much, and feels alone. But in all things he acknowledged that he is not starving and not freezing. He still is homeless and carries everything he really owns on a 4GB flash drive. He's brilliant; very naturally inclined for learning; languages especially- Hebrew, for one. Computer language, another. But he has been teaching himself pretty much the whole way. There is so much more, much more than I know- but I feel so blessed to have had this conversation today.

I also find it interesting that the majority of homeless people that I have talked to in Boston are not favoring Obama. Interesting? Yes. Perhaps we should consult those who we hope the government will be helping and benefiting before jumping on the bandwagon of whoever seems to be the most liberal and poor-loving. Whatever the hell that means.
I'm babbling, sorry. But I can't help but think about how much the government was never meant to be in control of as much money as it is, or as much as it may be in the very near future. Taking money out of the pockets of people trying to work in this economy will not solve anything. The government is not efficient in handing out money to anyone. There should be more state-control and state-made decisions. Small government to keep the country more democratic. That is the point, people. the founding fathers were using their brains all the way back then. Let's not forget what that means.

Now, I am not trying to sway anyone one way or another, but trying to flush out my own confusion. I am an independent, and I feel it is the only safe way to go. I will NOT be swayed by your labels. But dang, it's hard being in the middle of it all.

there is more on this, but Hebrew is waiting. amongst my other piles of work.

You're a million years of work.

and everybody here will evaporate

2008-10-21T11:18:00.003-04:00

Today is a good day.

I feel the week being stuffed to every minute, but right now I can sit here and look at my roommate sitting in the sun and appreciate the beauty that is outside and all around.

I still cannot smell, but I believe my room smells somewhat like a pumpkin field.

I cannot wait for warm spices and cider, and cranberry-everythings.

Oh I love cooking with cranberries. so versatile. I learned yesterday from Meredith that there is a killer recipe for lentil cookies. Yes. Lentil. And so I imagine for Thanksgiving I will be making some killer vegetarian dishes- and I imagine spice-and dried-fruit-laden lentil cookies may be in order. I will be looking up that recipe very soon.

Thank God for the internet. Seriously. I mean, I can find pretty much whatever information I need on here- so I can let the precedent of factual knowledge take more of a backseat and I can focus on intellectual and philosophical thinking and communication. So much for the information age! It is the thinking age, friends. We need to be moving towards that with great speed. Education is lacking a lagging behind and our children are suffering from not being taught how to think for themselves. Let's engage the internet, the text messaging, IM. Let's communicate with each other in every way possible- to speak to people where they are. Not forgetting the beauty of face:face communication- but striving to include the world that our children are living in. So that they can feel like they are moving forward in their education; striving for a higher understanding of the use of technology in real communication. Let us learn to communicate. Let's learn to write our thought effectively- not just regurgitate information that is written in badly-communicative text books from the eighties.

These are not random thoughts of mine, but rather something I have been thining for a long time. None of it is close ot being perfected.

------------
and everybody here is cloud
and everybody here will evaporate
cause you came up from the ground
from a million little pieces
have you found where your place is?
have you found where your place is?
have you found where your place is?

you've been spending your time
thinking about why you think so much
if there was ever a time
now would be the time to see
your time here is limited

and everybody here is a crowd
we all walk around with a million faces
somebody turn the lights out
there's so much more to see
in the darkest places
in the darkest places
in the darkest places

everybody here is waiting for the next creation
they say come come come

Yikes

2008-10-15T13:10:00.005-04:00

What the hell? I just walk in here and everyone's frozen- like, they're just stopped in their tracks in the middle of doing something. Huh, woah, I mean, no one is moving. Except me- is this a joke- is this the craziest thing? Am I insane here? God. What the hell is going on. Like, this girl- she's in the middle of blowing her nose. You know? Seriously, how embarrassing. I bet some dude's on the john right now, pissing his brains out. What the hell. This is the craziest. Woah-maybe, this is death. Maybe I'm dead! What the hell maybe I'm dead! ...Death is weird. This is insane. I wonder maybe if I'm frozen in someone else's death or whatever? I wonder if I'm smiling-- or maybe I have spaghetti sauce all over my face! Jeez that would be really terrible. No, wait, what the hell am I saying? This is crazy, this is just insane. Where am I, jeez, I just walk in here and everyone's-"

---------
my contemporary monologue for Voice class.

woah, that is bizarre.

and I, being a leech, look for comfort like it is my job.

2008-10-12T12:38:00.008-04:00

I don't care what anyone thinks, I like Something Corporate's I Woke Up in a Car.
Pandora just put it on, and I forgot how much I like it. So high school!!

today is a wonderful thing.
I am halfway done with my box of kleenex with the orange gerber daisy on the front.
in contemplation, as much as my homework is gathering weight, I just want to sit here and listen to music.

I'm realizing this blog has no purpose.

I almost don't care. I'm doing this for me.

watching your body lean
against the wall in that picture.
it was a mirror. you are in two places inside of it-
half invisible in both.
There you are, trapped without my irritating literature to
help you comprehend what is it.
I don't think you can hear
me now. or,
now.
or now.

what is it, that makes us die?
Did I ask to be birthed screaming
obscenities in my eyes before I know how to speak?

I miss you these days.
I see you've shifted two half-ghosts;
one part watching the lens, testing the wall for it's strength.
the other, looking down.
at a sole mark on the stair?
Chafe it out with a stubborn foot
tuh, tuh, tuh, tuh,
dispute the way of things;
toes tight and curled under from the cold.
chuck it, you death. chuck it.

tuh tuh.

hastily staunched foot from friction over and over,
perpendicular chest to the left-
swaying mockingly with the movement;
slight shock in the hands, thumping head in rhythm.
it is all obnoxious: all this half intangible.
wanting so badly a name
but never, ever, asking for one.

October 11, 2008

2008-10-11T15:31:00.002-04:00

Trevi. on a glorious day. pink walls.
across from wonderful friends,
crunching pretzels in the shape of bats.
sniffling with my nose
bouncing my knee
crouching my shoulders (bad)
straightening up
tilting my head, observing art
smelling chilled coffee drinks
through my right nostril.

-----
thanks, Jeff

When they come for you.

2008-10-09T12:33:00.007-04:00

"There's no time for on-the-job training, my friend."
If that is true, it sucks for all of us.

It's fall out there. I'm wearing sweats. I want to drink cider from a thermos, and I want to sit in crunchy grass.

instead, I am almost void of sleep, out of food, and slightly anxious about two exams tomorrow.

Yet, there are things to be joyful for.
Lovedrug, for instance.

Now autumn brings the beautiful things,
where all you give comes back to you like the crown upon my king.
Your life's a song, so sing along
before the silence swallows you and leaves you like a pawn.
watch angels in the morning become a devil's afternoon,
I will panic in the evening underneath the crashing moon.
So fall in love while you can
still hold your head up high, and pretend that you're alive again.
It's friends that leave you here in the end,
so hold your head up high and pretend that you're alive.

Your friends, now ghosts, are screaming "Bury us,"
they said, while panicking, my mind was broken.

--------

and beautiful, beautiful people.

Thus Saith the Lord.

2008-10-08T14:12:00.002-04:00

So, The Prince of Egypt is an amazing film, in it's own right. I miss the times of eating grilled cheese and tomato soup and watching this film in the middle of the day.

This being a crazy week, I have really nothing to say to fit into the 15 minutes I have to post something right now- I have to get back to Hebrew. But I have felt more calm since I started to write these things again, and I figured now is as good a time as ever for calm.

after borrowing some lip gloss earlier I now remember why I don't ever have lip gloss. My lips are sticking together like I spread them with honey. and they have a false sense of shininess that can be attributed to nothing other than an unnatural lip. It is altogether a worthless thing.

Chapstick.

I have other revelations to discuss. but alas, no time

to this weekend: you come at an alarming rate. please let us crash together rather smoothly, it would be much appreciated.

2008-10-07T09:43:00.002-04:00

Things happen, and there is no control coming from me at all. This would not bother me if it were not for the hurt that I see in people around me, and how much I can do nothing.

today IS the thousandth day ever.

and there are no clouds today.

2008-10-02T12:32:00.001-04:00

I miss Scrabble in my life.

Class in 30, no sleep, foggy head.

2008-10-02T12:27:00.003-04:00

Pacing beside the fields of somewhere else.

To walk with weights tied around my hips

As a horse or some other animal of burden.

Why was I not an oxen-

birthed to be fat and happy,

dumbly discouraged from an education;

calmed by an electric wire,

buzzed into simulation.

Why was I not a bird-

fitted with air-filled bones,

heavy with feathers, puffed

with sensation;

the called out ones.

Or a candle-

stiffly holding shape under heat,

centered with a cord;

giving way slowly like a cat in water

gripping the raft, gripping the raft-

with every hope bent upon the

unkempt claws dug in.

Why must I be an

Orangutan,

a frumpish pear-shape with dwarfish arms

to drape stupidly over an uneven body,

inept for any use in propulsion?

stagnant in brains,

collared voice on a chain,

a sweet nexus altered.

Yet I find myself in the land of the living.

amongst models of seasons

amongst an overwhelmed shelf,

amongst will-call;

an ink-stain of improperly removed

security devices blotting out

so much of my memory.

But an orangutan. The Orangutan.

the awkward body shuffle of a crowd

pre-destined to see a Holy Light-

looking forward; always forward;

always forward.

isn’t it something:

never upward.

Unintelligible Musings and Complaints.

2008-10-01T17:46:00.002-04:00

I don't dress well. It occurred to me today in my rampant state of trying to make it to chapel on time, in the five minutes I had left to put on clothing.
Sometimes, this bothers me. I can't explain why other than I do enjoy clothing. I enjoy fabrics and unique pieces, and I like being eclectic. But the fact is, my desire for simplicity overrules the desire to dress well. I don't really shop. Most of the clothing I own was free, and a lot of it is gone now back into the thrift life-cycle.

Ah, why is this in my brain today? I see lots of girls with tons of clothes (some of them definitely being my friends, no worries), with awesome fashions and cool things. And I think, hm I could come up with that; if I had the clothes. But I don't. And I think I feel more at ease with myself about that. But I wonder if my feeling of being looked down on for not dressing very well with tons of outfits is just my imagination. I mean, I won't change who I am and what I wear to be a groupie, but it seems so hypocritical to own a lot of clothes. I can't wrap my head around it.
I want to make people feel good about themselves, but I'm not going to sacrifice myself for it.

Perhaps this seems harsh. I'm sure it is. There is a lot going through my head these days. Right now, clothes just sprang to my mind.

Along with Palin. oi. life is but on the edge of a knife.

shanah tovah

2008-09-30T10:26:00.007-04:00

Yesterday was Rosh Hashanah, and we went to a Messianic Church that meets in Newton. In addition to the shofar, it was a pretty awesome time. Garrett gave a message that went straight to my heart, and hinted more and more toward solutions that I have been really searching out for a long time. I have had a longing for a heritage or some sort of ethnic roots to discover and claim. I feel often ashamed that I am just a mutt of Europe- an American. A white American. Garrett was speaking, in short (very short), of the connection between the nation of Israel and the Church. Israel is Chosen by God, but he questioned: for what? He believed it was for the goyim- for the nations OUTSIDE of Israel. They were given the law and 'access' (if you will) to God in order to bring it to all nations. He described the nation of Israel as this very specific, physical entity that has lasted through every hardship (the Holocaust, and others) as a testimony of God's promise and faithfulness. The nation of Israel must still exist today as a testimony for Christ- to show that Christ really is the messiah. If Israel was a deceased nation, (like the Hittites, for example) the Bible would seem much more irrelevant; God's promise would seem unfulfilled. So, as Israel is a physical nation, the Church as a formless (meaning non-physical) entity; it is the fulfillment of Jesus' command to go out into the world and baptize and to "teach them to obey everything that I have commanded you" (Mt. 28:20). Garrett pointed out that this was like a new Sinai- but instead of the law given to Moses to give to Israel; the new order of things was given to the disciples to share with the world. He mentioned a story about a man that he met in Israel who was riding his bike across the country. He came to Garrett and said he had to ask about Yeshua. He (the biker guy) said that in his travels he had seen so much anger in the country, so much tension between people; except for one community that he came upon: where Jewish and Arab children were playing together, and the families were living together. It was because they were believers in Christ. The Church crosses every boundary and barrier: ethnic, gender, socio-economic, language, political, EVERYTHING. And it occurred to me: I am a Christian. That is my history, and my heritage. I am a part of a multi-cultural nation, having a connection of heart with millions of people. I had never thought of it in that way before.

Thus, my revelation.

so, happy new year.
perhaps, I will begin to feel differently now.

You're a door-without-a-key, a field-without-a-fence
You made a holy fool of me, and I've thanked you ever since
If she comes circling back, we'll end where we'd begun
Like two pennies on the train track the train crushed into one

-------
on another note: http://www.delish.com/food/food-articles/largest-cupcake-duff-guinness?GT1=32003#
sorry, but that's the best he could do? ugly cupcake.

Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you

2008-09-29T12:18:00.006-04:00

I heard a really quite good acoustic version of Wonderwall the other day on the radio. I just like that song, whatever.

I have:
- been eating squash of every form since Saturday for almost every meal (free from the farm = good eats for me) and will continue to do so for most of this week.
- started playing guitar again
- a bruise on the side of my thigh and have no idea where from.

I am:
- having tea with myself (though I find I always make the thing only to leave it somewhere and forget about it, find it after it is cold, heat it up in the micro, and start the process over again. I drink very old tea.)
- studying Hebrew vocabulary. halomot (badly transliterated): dreams. which reminds me. I have been having bizarre dreams lately (when I DO sleep, oddity of my life right now) They involve real-life events/people and situations, so I am having a real hard time distinguishing what has really happened.
- thinking about how much my arms and elbows hurt in this contorted position that I am in. Lying on my stomach on my bed propped up typing on my elbows. kind of aching.

Just as water reflects the face, so one human heart reflects another.
Pr 27:19

Fall? I like Autumn better

2008-09-28T18:47:00.004-04:00

When I am broken, it is then that I am in the presence of the Healer. To live in this simplicity every day is my greatest endeavor. I do not want to withhold anything for myself, for it is not mine. My love is not my own, therefore I CANNOT BE AFRAID of being broken.

But I am.

These days are lonely days, though I do see you all. I am staring weather in the face; it’s been raining for two days and my mood is not having it.

But I am coming to realize things, SO SLOWLY. But the message at church this morning was very poignant. Jacobs ladder. Okay, I have to admit I have, until this morning, always envisioned Jacob’s ladder to be this staircase that angels were walk-dancing up and down, doing a Jerry Lewis to some big band jazzy tune. Praising God through the dance, man.

But this morning the guy pointed out that this place was a portal of heaven- where angels were ascending and descending to do the bidding of the LORD; the base being on the earth, and the top at the throne of God. Jacob recognized this, and was fearful. With other good things this guys went on to show Jesus as this portal- when Jesus is talking to Nathanial in the book of John and says “you will see angels ascending and descending on the son of man”- making himself the base of this ladder; as well as the portal. On the cross Jesus was hanging in the space between heaven and the earth, and the curtain tore in the temple upon his passing. This then passes the ladder-ship unto us, my friends. All those who have been seized by Jesus’ search and rescue, those who commit to emulating him in every way possible- are made to be like him. And that makes us his kingdom and his body continuing on this earth. Then this guy ends with a short description of Christianity: Had an encounter. Be an encounter.

I want that.

I missed the nineteenth this year. I never do that.

--------

Yet I have a hard time remembering all the things I should remember
And a hard time forgetting all the things that I was supposed to forget.
And, Christ, when You're ready to come back,
Then I think I'm ready for You to come back;
But if You want to stay wherever exactly it is You are,
That's okay, too...it's really none of my business.

And if I didn't have You as my guide, I'd still wander lost in Sinai
Or down by the tracks watching trains go by
To remind me: there are places that aren't here.

2008-03-21T21:13:00.007-04:00

your mouth on the sink-
we were in love, I think.

2008-03-18T10:00:00.005-04:00

Happy ten AM.

the days are long, the nights are short.
I don't care what the weatherman say.
all at once on the shore the wave haloed
in morning
hit me upside the head
and I've been laying here ever since.