So this is how we start this
This game.
Yesterday was a day of removal (boom swagger boom) and baring my skin to the staggering heat of the valley. It felt good to golden my bones. I wear no sunblock. I wouldn't look like it but I gild like a queen in the sun. Even my hair, so ordinary brownish under clouds gets shot through with whites and golds.
From the story mines, the piles of papers, the rooms where you come in to tell a story (someone please tell me why pitching is terrible? I love pitching) waking to the white bedding and teak furniture in the quiet breeze of Santa Monica. I took off immediately. The car I have here starts with a button and moves with an eerie silence. I sharked my way up the 405 and back before laying on the scratchy but fashionable green couch, beating back a migraine for the second sally forth.
He's the sort of person who lights a cigarette just wherever the hell he pleases. I like that. I like the assumption of privilege in cats and sphinxes.
In to today, woken from half a hangover by G who apparently was in possession of the other half. We commiserated on our nights. His ended with a leap in a lake. I said haughtily that mine ended with a view of the Los Angeles river.
"That thing?" he scoffed.
"Please," I said, "You cavorted in a glorified mud puddle. Doubtlessly as we speak colonies of bacteria are rejoicing and multiplying on your body."
But if I could have summed up our differences more neatly I cannot think how. He is a canine, in love with leaping and laughter and always, immediate joy. And I am, as he says, "Everything more than me in every way." We're good guardians of each other's hearts that way, he is always throwing doors open and coaxing me down from my lofty positions on things and me saying, well, yes but there is more. There is always more than you see and if you'd only climb up here you could see it all.
The Los Angeles river moves me. Strange cement banks and an oddly under occupied space cutting through what used to be the family ranch. I'm sure when we first bought the land we had something else in mind. I still love my city, I will never not love this city and it, in return, loves me. Today was beaches, the children I babysat when I lived in New York now grown and beautiful, and I took my camera, catching their smiles against aqua skies. I tell their mother that of all things, it is odd for the taming that I under go as a mother to stretch this distance. She says yes, it is as if, as if there is something important you are always trying to remember but can't quite.
Stretching my toes in the sand today I knew it would appear more complicated than it is, later on. There is a job, a truck and script. Let's not discuss it but simply do.
And now to yoga, for there are knots to untie in this body and there is everything beautiful in the movement of it, breathing and holding and stretching and being. And later and then later and perhaps even more later.
I promised myself happiness. What promise did you make yourself today?
Yesterday was a day of removal (boom swagger boom) and baring my skin to the staggering heat of the valley. It felt good to golden my bones. I wear no sunblock. I wouldn't look like it but I gild like a queen in the sun. Even my hair, so ordinary brownish under clouds gets shot through with whites and golds.
From the story mines, the piles of papers, the rooms where you come in to tell a story (someone please tell me why pitching is terrible? I love pitching) waking to the white bedding and teak furniture in the quiet breeze of Santa Monica. I took off immediately. The car I have here starts with a button and moves with an eerie silence. I sharked my way up the 405 and back before laying on the scratchy but fashionable green couch, beating back a migraine for the second sally forth.
He's the sort of person who lights a cigarette just wherever the hell he pleases. I like that. I like the assumption of privilege in cats and sphinxes.
In to today, woken from half a hangover by G who apparently was in possession of the other half. We commiserated on our nights. His ended with a leap in a lake. I said haughtily that mine ended with a view of the Los Angeles river.
"That thing?" he scoffed.
"Please," I said, "You cavorted in a glorified mud puddle. Doubtlessly as we speak colonies of bacteria are rejoicing and multiplying on your body."
But if I could have summed up our differences more neatly I cannot think how. He is a canine, in love with leaping and laughter and always, immediate joy. And I am, as he says, "Everything more than me in every way." We're good guardians of each other's hearts that way, he is always throwing doors open and coaxing me down from my lofty positions on things and me saying, well, yes but there is more. There is always more than you see and if you'd only climb up here you could see it all.
The Los Angeles river moves me. Strange cement banks and an oddly under occupied space cutting through what used to be the family ranch. I'm sure when we first bought the land we had something else in mind. I still love my city, I will never not love this city and it, in return, loves me. Today was beaches, the children I babysat when I lived in New York now grown and beautiful, and I took my camera, catching their smiles against aqua skies. I tell their mother that of all things, it is odd for the taming that I under go as a mother to stretch this distance. She says yes, it is as if, as if there is something important you are always trying to remember but can't quite.
Stretching my toes in the sand today I knew it would appear more complicated than it is, later on. There is a job, a truck and script. Let's not discuss it but simply do.
And now to yoga, for there are knots to untie in this body and there is everything beautiful in the movement of it, breathing and holding and stretching and being. And later and then later and perhaps even more later.
I promised myself happiness. What promise did you make yourself today?