Twenty

So, though I fought against it as much as I could, and cliché as it might be, 20) my favorite flower, hands down, hands and hands down, is the rose. And no, not some "perfect" red bud, fragrant-less and thorn-less from a florist's shop. No, the kind that grows wild along the side of a road or in a rose garden, preferably someone else's, that I can stumble upon unexpectedly on a hot day, admire, bury my face in and breathe, experience sensory overload with scent and color and texture, so much that I want to eat them. See the various stages of blossom and decay, all mixed up together. Growing more beautiful as they age until they collapse into a pile of petals on the ground.  

Late summer roses/L Herlevi

This was gonna be a little more cheeky, but I just saw a movie about poverty and I'm pretty pissed off right now. http://www.hbo.com/documentaries/american-winter/index.html



Feeling subdued, too much sleep?

Tried to get enough (more than four hours) sleep last night, so went to bed with a movie before 8 pm. Woke up for real just before 5 am, slightly glum, because at some point I had turned on the radio, so woke up to news. Hard time with the meditation thing, didn't feel like doing it, but I think the point might be to do it anyway, make it a habit you keep (like exercise, or yoga, or a healthy diet) so forced myself through it. When I walked out of my room, pleasantly surprised by how bright the yard looked through the window. Remembered I had to take the kitchen garbage out, so went to do that. Someone had thrown some pizza in it, a bird shadow crossed over me, and so I threw a crust into the yard for the crows. When I looked up again, one of the adults was flying up to the roof, crust in beak. The rest of the family waiting up at the top.  There were five again. That fifth crow now appears to also be a baby, on closer look, but it keeps a distance, tries to feed itself. The other two, aggressively crying, begging, flailing wings, and jabbing at the adult with the food. This other, a couple feet away, then chasing a small, quickly rolling, white ball of crust down the roof with a series of hops and short flaps. Crust lands in drain. I didn't see if it picked it out, but it began to walk back up the incline. Adorable. Maybe it was born earlier. It seems less attached to the rest, but it flies and lands with the group. A bit later, getting on the bus, my first thoughts were, "The bus is full. Full of adults." Not typically either. Amazingly blank today, and I feel groggy. I think I slept too much. One of my colleagues bought me a mocha, not even Friday today.  Now, I'm wired.

"Many things become possible once you get on your own side."-Holiday Mathis, June 18, 2013

19.) I believe in redemption, endless second chances (starting to believe in it, even for myself) out to infinity: as many chances as it takes to get it right.

Waiting for my sheets to dry so I can leave

And a lot of posts today. 14) There's an idea out in the world that life is suffering and the best one can hope for is to endure it, or endure it with some kinda' grace maybe. I don't buy it. I think we (as a species) are capable of so much more. You can see evidence around you if you look for it. Maybe it's not sustainable 24/7, but it's possible. Misery's not really sustainable 24/7 either. 15) If there's a scenic route, I'll usually take it, or took it. Apologies for my lateness. 16) I get excited about all the reading possibilities when I enter into a library or a bookstore. 17) I love sitting around a campfire with friends (new or old) and singing songs and making s'mores. Need to find excuses to do it more. 18) My garden is in a general state of neglect (as are my eyebrows.)  I will go visit soon. The garden that is, the eyebrows will have to wait.

Later. Much later than I thought. Stopped to eat something before continuing on to the garden. Read a few magazine articles. Sun hadn't set yet when I got there, figured I would mostly just harvest a few things, lettuce, artichokes, over-ripe cauliflower, water and go. A strange man walked into the garden where I was alone. Asked me about a plant, what I knew about it. I finally figured out what he was talking about, knew the name, couldn't remember anything about it. Suggested he go to the medicinal garden at the University and ask. Tried to describe where that was. His words left his mouth as if he were just learning how to speak, he refered to a street as "that famous street with the shops."As he was leaving me, he pointed out that the moon was out (which is odd only in that it's the sort of thing I would do.) I had to finish watering and chop up some fennel. I saw him in the distance again, almost no one else in the park. Somehow, we didn't cross paths again. The sun had set by this point. Only a couple people left, further away from where we were. The sky was still light, I stopped by a video store on my way home. While I was wandering around they made an announcement that they were about to close. It was 10 pm already. Keep forgetting it's almost solstice. How did that happen?

Got my movies and continued to walk home. Ten blocks from home, the only sound I could hear was the flow of steady traffic on the freeway. Every-couple-of blocks a car would rattle past me up the hill, tail lights disappearing around the bend. The stop-lights had switched to blinking red, sky still pale in the west, stars beginning to emerge. Once, the clatter of bottles behind a fence.  Shrill cry of a killdeer briefly cutting through the silence then, just as suddenly subsiding. Then one, then a second plane flew overhead. Probably too late to watch a movie now.

Random things on a Sunday morning

10.) if a good genie came along and gave me the means to travel this year, I'd probably go to Montreal/Quebec City or, maybe Germany around Christmas. 11) Still want to go on a dog-sledding trip in the Yukon wilderness in the middle of winter to look at the winter night sky without light pollution. 12) I've never felt homesick when I've travelled because I enjoy the newness of the experience, want to soak up as much of a place as I can, try to stay in the "now." I may never be back there. Sometimes I'll have a passing thought about somewhere I'd like to be (back home), usually a coffee shop, don't know why, or I'll get emotional about a Celine Dion song that I hear on a radio in a bar in the middle of nowhere, but I don't think that's homesickness. I do however, when I'm home, get "homesick" for places I've visited. You must understand, I don't want to live there, but I ache for them anyway. Kinda' backwards, but there it is. But, 13) if this genie, or perhaps it's a wizard now, told me today that I had to go live in another city for a while, I'd probably go to London, or Santiago de Compostela, or Porto. (Foreign. US cities maybe Los Angeles, Berkeley, Santa Cruz, Key West for a curveball.  But like I've mentioned, I'm in the city I want to be in.)

I was about to get excited about having a free weekend next week, but then I remembered that I don't. Major commitment, but fun, and I'm not tied to a schedule or location for the project.

Few hours of free time

Need to do laundry or something. It's gorgeous out. (8. while I might have regrets for how I handled them at the time, I don't regret any of the big choices I made, I'm liking more and more where I am internally. 9. I'm glad I didn't get married when I was younger, I didn't always hear my own voice, and I think it would have been harder living that close with someone else to find it.) The rehearsal went better, more anchored today. Starting to get moments of an actual conversation between two people, as opposed to two actors (acting students) trying to find connection and meaning in someone else's words. So, progress. Had an informative conversation about voice coaching with a voice student while both of us were waiting for our respective time slots. Something to work toward when I have the both the money and the guts. It's expensive, but I like what I'm hearing and I want to be able to have that kind of control, range, option if I ever need it. Laundry now. Hmm, we used to have a lawn chair...