these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.

my artist website is here.

Nov 29, 2014

day 1 (again)


i don't know what to say, i just want to talk - the chatter of these keys, the light of the computer screen catching in the thin wrinkles of my knuckles.  i'm back in california after 6 weeks of living out of a single bag.  i found myself pacing back and forth in my bedroom, from my bedroom to the kitchen and back again, from my bedroom to the bathroom and back again;  turning in circles and not knowing what to do with myself.

it was overcast and grey here today.  just yesterday, i was in sunny Austin, TX.  just a week ago, snowy Johnson, VT.  it is surreal to look up at my bookcase.  it is strange to know that time has passed and life has moved forward and yet all these objects are right where i left them. 

on my walk to get a cup of coffee this morning, i found a dismembered pigeon wing on the sidewalk.  i didn't have my camera or my phone with me and was nervous someone would come by and kick it in to the street before i could take a picture of it.  i walked with my sweetheart part way to the train as he headed off to work and then doubled back under the overpass to get the shot.  the little wing was still there, silent and unassuming on the grey ground. 

something about this little torn wing wouldn't let me just walk passed and forget all about it.  a poetry worth wincing over.

it feels weird to be here. 

there were moments today when i would suddenly feel a bit lost.  there were moments when i felt like time had suddenly folded over itself and i had been thrown into the past.  i'd look at my shoes and i'd look at the street signs and wonder how it was possible that i was standing where i was. wasn't i just gorging myself on a beautiful thankgiving dinner in Texas?  wasn't i just hugging my boyfriend's family and friends?  wasn't i just in brooklyn hugging new friends of my own?  wasn't i just at jackie's house, listening to madonna on vinyl and petting her sweet little grey cat?  wasn't i just arriving in Vermont?  haven't i just begun this adventure?  haven't i just packed my bag?

i feel so lucky.  and also so shaken.  i'll make sure that more adventure finds me in no time.  it's amazing how truly GOOD life can be sometimes.

it was wonderful to wake up next to my lover this morning.  it was wonderful to turn toward each other below our dark grey sheets and smile at each other as soon as our eyes were open.  it was wonderful to be able to reach just a few inches and find his form after enduring such a hefty, painful distance from one another.  and in that reach, home.


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