Things to Be Thankful For

* Reassuring Conversations (with very, very specific people)
* Yoga
* Sleep

Now, back to taking stock of this semester. 

Link-Love: Design, Arts, Crafts, Magic

Jumbo Jibbles is awesomeness and attractiveness. She's done me a gorgeous pair of ear-rings, some wonderful tiny robots, which haven't yet been unpack in my new apt. And she's done other gorgeously delicate sculptures and fun life-size veggies. Basically, she's awesome.

As is Hands Occupied.
I've been looking for knitting projects*. And through a wonderful friend, I got a few tips from Heidi at Hands Occupied on where to start. (No, I don't really think my childhood knitting-summers count. Although, if the knowledge surprisingly sprung back into life, I wouldn't complain.)
I plan on checking out the local yarn store soon. But until then, I'm trying out some basic patterns that I found. More on this, later.

*I've been looking for entirely non-school related things to do (for a bunch of reasons, including complete boredom with intellectual snobbery).

Things I've missed in the last Six Months

Since moving into this new life in Cornfield Town, a lot has changed. And as much as I'm pro-change, there are things that I miss very dearly. And since we're at this list-making time of the year, here's a list of things (and people, and moments) that I miss very dearly:

16. Short-drive access to decent restaurants that can seat more than twenty people
15. The quaint town-square and its farmer's markets
14. Impromptu Lunches with Her at Petra Cafe
13. The Dickson Street Bookstore
12. Iron Horse Coffee Company
11. Kimpel's asbetos-filled halls (who knew?)
10. My own office space - yegods, old large wooden desk, I miss you.

9. Being able to breathe without the neighbours hearing me

8. Vaulted ceilings (and while I'm at it, in-house washer-dryer systems)

7. Living in a place where pets don't defecate on my doorstep

6. Long, pointless walks

5. Following Galactic Suburbia

4. Writing
3. Reading (yes, ironically)
2. Reading Science Fiction, specifically

And most of all, I miss

1. Having the time to do things for myself without guilt




Clearly, this semester here has been incredibly frustrating, and I'm not even counting the academic stuff yet.*

* Okay, clearly this is not a gratefulness post. And to compensate, I admit that this move has had a couple of saving graces. I've met a few wonderful people here - people that warm my heart. And I've found a awe-bloody-some yoga studio. 

Paper #3

A very imperfect 80% done. I have 2 pages more of writing to do and then, I'm calling it a wrap.
And more and more I'm wondering if grad school is for me, right now. 

End-of-Semester-Writing

I'm writing my full-length first paper for this semester. After much procrastination and many tears, I have three thousand words down. They are horribly imperfect words, but, hell - its 60% of the total word count.
I feel like one of my own freshmen working through a word count and through page limits. But, so it is. 

Preserves

Quietly,
I stow away memories,
like ripe mangoes,
for later consumption.
I dissect them,
into manageable-bite size pieces.
And soak them
in a tangy, sweet-sour preserve,
in air-tight containers,
so they remain untainted
by the vagaries of time
and oxygen.
I push the jar
into a dark corner
Just for nights like this one,
Where my mind,
carefully drags the jar out,
For my wine-soaked tongue
to bite into a soft, juicy piece.

Pain

I touch my wound
As I lie in bed breathing
Because I have to remember the hurt
As a way of avoiding the pain.

Healing

Sometimes,
A healing is a slow fire,
Around the skewer of your being.
And when you burn to ash,
The wound burns with you.

Making Peace

I'm trying
really hard
(and being surprised that this is not as painful as I thought it would be)
to make peace
with the idea
that I'm not
as young
as I used to be.
And that
this
does not mean
I'm old.

Giving Thanks

Despite being warned that in thanking (or was it over-thanking?) I weaken myself, I open this week with gratitude.
I'm blown away,
And terribly uncertain,
And restless
But 'neath it all, I'm still okay
(and quietly, very very quietly watching for a rustle, some sound, or scent of the change to come).

You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach in moments of heightened intuition?
I'm there.
And all because I just realized exactly how far I need to run.
I should be cussing at things around me, but I'm still, surprisingly, oh-oh-kay.

Dreams, running

I was going to say something
about forgetting
to dream.
And then I read this, from Sita - which is quite different from everything I was going to say. But, it is beautiful. And you must go read it.

On a somewhat related note,
I'm seized again
By the impulse
to run.

Also, while I'm on the fence about How I met your mother, I think I quite like the Kevin / Robin development. Sappy, eh?

Reflections, briefly

I've been reading posts from over seven years ago (when I wrote as another person, elsewhere on the web-world). And I think back to me today. In some ways, I worry for me - I worry that somewhere in me, there is a tendency to great intensity and that I am going to, to borrow a phrase, "die a wistful death".

But, I've had enough of that intensity. I'm tired of this notion quiet acceptance of what one of the Witches calls a sense of helplessness in the face of intense love. And at this point, I absolutely refuse to die wistfully.
Deep breath.

Homework beckons. More, soon.

Kis, Kis ko batayeinge judaii ka sabab ham


I get the sense that I've been talking too much.
Mostly, this is a way of dispensing this crazy energy high that I'm on.
But, it is beginning to hollow me out.
Time for some silence, yeah?

Love, Actually

Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde?
Or religious as if I were French?


Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more
adventurous (and how the same names keep recurring on
that interminable list!), but one of these days there’ll be
nothing left with which to venture forth.

Why should I share you? Why don’t you get rid of someone
else for a change?
I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless


l o v e

(Frank O Hara - Meditations in an Emergency)

Like a greedy little child
I hog minutes,
With sticky fingers

But,
I'm wise.

I'm merely going to 

stash them away in my pockets

And relish each one. 

For a long, long time.

A prayer

Today,
I pray for
me.


Today, I pray
for agility
for the ability to find my strength, my groundedness
for soul sustenance
and the wisdom that I can't go back
but I can go on.

Today, I pray
for an inner compass
that tunes me in
to my detachment
and for the auxiliary cable
to connect to my practice and my passion.

Today,
I pray for the impossible.
And for the first time in months,
I know that's alright.

Confessions, Revelations

This weekend, I'm making peace with the idea that I can be cheesy, wistful, nostalgic, young, (did I mention cheesy?), hopefully cynical and secretive.

This weekend, I'm making peace with me.

And you, in the meanwhile, should go watch Sinatra

It's a morning for poetry

With a flick of that pointed blade
Artfully
You scrape a gentle cut
on my soul
And I bleed
Ether.