flight, blood
flying back across the country yesterday, one of the bumpiest plane rides i've ever experienced, at least in a normal size jet. outside of a tiny two-prop fifteen-seater i once took from portland to boston, and thought death and destruction the entire time. this ride, i ordered a double scotch and slept through much of it, stirring to the arid terrariums of texas, and later to oddly luminescent icy peaks of northern new mexico, the sangre de cristo range that i used to hike in high school. blood of christ, heh. i was thinking blood this whole trip. wanting to strangle the cutesy couple next to me, holding hands in their panic. thinking blood, watching the wing quiver in the turbulence like palm fronds, and brashly wanting the thing to actually shear, or to snap, not in a suicidal mind: i just wondered if it could actually happen. the give and flex that they build into machines always amazes me. my aikido teacher says that people are like that, when completely relaxed and maintaining ki throughout dailylife; it's why the very enlightened, and the very drunk, are able to walk away from horrendous accidents unscathed at times. natural flexibility taking over, protecting.
i also thought blood as a function of consumption, flying in a state of exhaustion and utter confidence that comes from extended high times. i feel unquenchably voracious at times, especially these days. i'm in that mode, right now, where i want to swallow everything i see, the mountains, the people, the plane. there is not enough food, drink, drug or other sustenance sometimes. right now, particularly, there's something very sexual about it as well, carnal; like this hunger must include flesh, torn and rent, mine as well as others'. blood, bruises, wrestling, pressure. i remember a quote by bjork once, something about being so wound up and feral that she was afraid to have sex for fear that she'd head-butt her lovers, knocking them out cold. man, i fell in love with her at that moment.
i just returned from my brother's wedding. what an amazing weekend, just an amazing time. i sorta took on the role of production coordinator, like i often do while working in theater. you know, getting everything where and how it needed to be, at each mmoment. exhausting, and really satisfying. now, i'm home, out on the balcony with beers, listening to gillian welch, "look at miss ohio." reminds me of one of the nice and completely unexpected parts of the wedding weekend. i spent lots of time with the current miss california, fourth runner up in last year's miss america pageant, a divinity student in berkeley, girlfriend of one of my brother's groomsmen and definitely the coolest beauty-contestant person i've ever met. not that i've known many; more debutantes and such. i was real happy that she truly seemed to enjoy talking about the pageant life. totally fucking fascinating. the whole weekend was wonderful, and bizarre, simultaneously the best and most powerful time i've had in Memphis in years and sweetly sad in that it strangely made me think long and hard about that whole domestic thing, sort of reexamine my priorities, in ways i hadn't expected, not even a little, not at all. and, along with a late sunday party involving old friends and a super-great, crazy, wonderful old girlfriend from about 8th grade, meeting miss california was just icing.
this weekend is coachella, a two-day desert music festival that includes performances by radiohead, the pixies, stereolab, and the cure. also an argintenian electronica-pop woman i've discovered obscurely, juana molina. i am excited. otherwise i am beginning a mad dash of work toward june 1, when i shall attempt to drive my old trusty truck across country to do the shakespeare festival again, upstate NY. wish me luck.
i also thought blood as a function of consumption, flying in a state of exhaustion and utter confidence that comes from extended high times. i feel unquenchably voracious at times, especially these days. i'm in that mode, right now, where i want to swallow everything i see, the mountains, the people, the plane. there is not enough food, drink, drug or other sustenance sometimes. right now, particularly, there's something very sexual about it as well, carnal; like this hunger must include flesh, torn and rent, mine as well as others'. blood, bruises, wrestling, pressure. i remember a quote by bjork once, something about being so wound up and feral that she was afraid to have sex for fear that she'd head-butt her lovers, knocking them out cold. man, i fell in love with her at that moment.
i just returned from my brother's wedding. what an amazing weekend, just an amazing time. i sorta took on the role of production coordinator, like i often do while working in theater. you know, getting everything where and how it needed to be, at each mmoment. exhausting, and really satisfying. now, i'm home, out on the balcony with beers, listening to gillian welch, "look at miss ohio." reminds me of one of the nice and completely unexpected parts of the wedding weekend. i spent lots of time with the current miss california, fourth runner up in last year's miss america pageant, a divinity student in berkeley, girlfriend of one of my brother's groomsmen and definitely the coolest beauty-contestant person i've ever met. not that i've known many; more debutantes and such. i was real happy that she truly seemed to enjoy talking about the pageant life. totally fucking fascinating. the whole weekend was wonderful, and bizarre, simultaneously the best and most powerful time i've had in Memphis in years and sweetly sad in that it strangely made me think long and hard about that whole domestic thing, sort of reexamine my priorities, in ways i hadn't expected, not even a little, not at all. and, along with a late sunday party involving old friends and a super-great, crazy, wonderful old girlfriend from about 8th grade, meeting miss california was just icing.
this weekend is coachella, a two-day desert music festival that includes performances by radiohead, the pixies, stereolab, and the cure. also an argintenian electronica-pop woman i've discovered obscurely, juana molina. i am excited. otherwise i am beginning a mad dash of work toward june 1, when i shall attempt to drive my old trusty truck across country to do the shakespeare festival again, upstate NY. wish me luck.