we will erect a barricade of our own.

oh strange, oh chaotic, oh insipid madness. where have you come from?

impromptu visit to southern california this weekend. family madness. this time from the other side. normally, it's my family that calls with the RUSH RUSH NOW NOW (and for very good reason lately), but this time it was my partner's and i owe him one. to tag along, at least, really is the least i can do. and that's exactly what he asked me for so that's exactly what i did. threw my jeans and notebook in a bag and grabbed the dog food. 500 miles in a car going down the horrible I-5 just to find out the situation isn't exactly what was told to you on the phone. madness, madness, madness. and MEAN. was anyone dying? no. were we told that death was on the horizon? yes. was that the real reason for the call? apparently not. CON. SCAM. and then the massive agitation, the sweep of deep sadness: learning that the people you haven't seen in 7 years haven't changed one bit... that the reason for such tremendous, unbreakable distance is a good one and obviously still necessary. but that is A Past that isn't mine to chronicle. suffice to say- sometimes even family must be cut away. i've had to do it too. for as much as it hurts, for as much as it offends common notions of "family", not all of us come from those kinds of families. not all of us were born with roses and white fences and kisses on the cheek. not every baby gets told 'i love you'. some families must splinter. some relations must be severed. it is a hard reality and not fun for anyone. some homes have to break so that there is at least the chance of survival, the chance of escape, the chance to find The Beginning of your own life, that site that so many people seem to take for granted, as a given. it isn't given to us all.

and so there we are, in the horrible heat of southern california. 110 degree (plus) weather and a black dog who only wants to pant in the shade and eat ice-cubes. the heat down there is dangerous for rottweilers and i was worried over my little one the entire time.

but it wasn't all bad. i got to see a pair of my old friends, some of the best i've ever had, some of the best people on the planet, people i count myself extremely lucky to know. we talked talked talked and she showed me Sweeny Todd (the one with Johnny Depp because i hadn't seen it yet) and The Mighty Boosh and lent me her copies of Persepolis and Embroideries. I will mail them back with my copy of A Child's Life by Pheobe Glockner.

we are friends that get nerdy together- graphic novels and musicals and lots of chips and salsa. :) and it felt like no time had passed. none at all. that's when you know you have a real friend, a real and true bond. and i said 'i love you' when i left and so did she and that feels wonderful and sweet and good. i think friends should say 'i love you' more often. i will make a point of doing that, for sure.

and then back up the I-5, me driving this time so that J could sleep. and he slept pretty much the whole way back. lots of cops on the interstate so no one was going 90 miles an hour through the Dust Bowls out there. no one sped past the Cow Killing Floor at Coalinga. for as desolate as it is out there, there's a lot to see if you travel a bit slower. lots of sad stuff to see. it is a horrible drive. and half the rest areas are now closed and barricaded.

i left the radio off and drove in silence the entire way back while my man and my little baby girl dog slept off the heat and agitation of southern california. i thought about what life has been, what it is, how it twirls. and with every mile gained closer to home, watching the temperature fall, and thinking of my paintings and my poems and my blog i was just so thankful. when i passed CalArts i thought NO as an option for grad school one day. too many bad memories in southern california for me and my little family. i don't ever want to live there again, even though CalArts holds some wonderful memories for me, one of the few places down there that do.

we got in the door at 11 last night and tumbled quickly in to bed. when our alarm went off this morning, i had to peel myself out of bed. now, here with my coffee and a new sun up in the air, i feel safe and happy and calm. tired, but no less happy as a result. glad to be home, glad for the life we've built, glad for the simplicity of it, the strength of it, and a renewed commitment to keep going, keep trying, and leave The Past where it belongs.

the weekend starts now.

i think i'll make it a movie day. reading this post over at Roz's blog made me hungry for film. for the odd shots, the movement of the camera, the focus, the metaphor that resides in vision... eclipsing vision. tis the myth of photographic truth. and the myth is full of beauty and a punch in the gut.

such sugar

i have put the eggs on to boil for sunday dinner with the neighbors. there will be a massive pile of deviled eggs and i want to let them chill for a few hours before hand. they are better that way. and country fried chicken and i'm not sure what else but it will be country-style too and very delicious. country cooking is one of my most beloved. comfort food in the truest sense.

and yesterday, my sweetheart surprised me with a sudden change of course and we ended up in Bodega Bay, eating spicy clam chowder and fish & chips. huge seagulls sitting on top of the crab shack and a small boy running toward the pier, father chasing close behind, scooping him up where the guard rail ended.

and then the long, beautiful drive back through Jenner and Guernville, watching the shore lands morph to wine lands, loud music in the car and laughing laughing laughing and remembering our weekend in San Luis Obispo, the sulfur springs, perfuming the water with rosy oil and black night all around.

and this morning i talked his ear off about writing, about art, about practice, about letting go of worry and expectation and just letting it all swirl and breathe. this is a good morning to pay attention to our fair leige, our much loved, deeply loved Radish King.

stamina for the struggle. and she is right: if anyone ever tells you it will be easy, they're lying. at very least, i have never been lied to about that. i've known from the very start that this was going to be terrifying and hard and that every inch gained was going to be hard won.

but it is an amazing course of life.

go.

goodness...

i stayed tight and warm and away from most forms of technology this weekend and will resume this plan in just a few minutes because it has treated me so well the past few days. we had another little house-hunting adventure yesterday. the first house we saw has already been snapped up by some lucky person out there but no matter- there is something out there for us too and patience is what we'll need to find it. in the meantime i've been crocheting and painting little heartfelt pictures of words. the ground outside in the good light is still wet from the storm so i can't take pictures just yet but i'll have things to share soon. and last night i had a kind of dream i've never had before, at least not that i can remember. it was drawn. yep. and it was drawn in the style of the illustrations that are found in my childhood shell silverstien books. i dreamt i was a little scribble of a girl and i had a red balloon. the balloon was the only bit of color in the whole dream. everything else was black and white and scratchy. i had black and white striped stockings. i wore a little scratchy white dress and pig-tails in my hair. i was a little girl. little. myself as a child and very quiet. and i tied my balloon to the big limb of a tree just like a tire swing. but every time i tried to swing on my balloon, it would rise up, helium filled. when i backed away from it, it would lower itself again. i wasn't sad in the dream and woke up after trying to ride the balloon for the second time. i came out in to the living room to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and old footage of peewee's playhouse way back when it was a theater production. god bless peewee herman. paul rubens is a genius. it was perfect and happy and my sweetheart is starting a steak dinner for us. sunday. sweet and beautiful and warm. meka-leka-hi meka-hiney-ho.

:)

the weekend was wonderful- calm, warm under quilts, no phone, hot chocolate, hugs, friends, and crochet. i feel happy and safe and am not at all dreading the approach of winter. i'm looking forward to spending more time inside, buzzing around, full of excuses to consider interior design and be girly that way. i'd like to finally make a quilt this year. it's on the list of "important things to do before i die" and, as i'm discovering, sooner really is better than later. i've been finding small and simple paths to beauty lately. i've been quiet and gentle. i've had a smile for days now and i believe with all my heart that good things are on the horizon. i've decided to uncross my fingers, nurture my hope, and just take each day as it comes.

yes!

the weekend is here. and there are no rules. but there is required reading and black oil paint and black gouache and black ink. yes yes yes. and hazelnut coffee. plenty of hazelnut coffee. no. gratuitous coffee. copious amounts of coffee. all hazelnut, all the time. non-stop hazelnut. hazelnut til you drop. get some!

yay for saturday...

i slept and slept and slept! oh, it was nice and i had some really weird dreams. none of them bad, just weird, and now i'm up drinking coffee and looking at my paintings and happy that it's saturday because that means my sweetie is available for wrestling and playing and laughing. the weekends are good here and i look forward to their arrival in spite of the work week being pretty great too. i allow myself to forget my schedule on weekends and just enjoy our little life together. i still generally get a good amount of painting done and my sweetie comes out and checks on me, offers his thoughts, tells me what he sees... he's getting pretty good at giving a critique and is almost as big an art snob as me. ha! he reads my art magazines, cover to cover, and i don't really even do that. it's good that he takes such an active interest in all this. it helps and it's a great big comfort to have such strong support and endless encouragement. he says i'm his favorite artist. (blush) ha!