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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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!

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,

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.

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.