between the soil and the stars
the field
there is a field up on sugar hill that i go to when i'm feeling like this. got an ache somewhere in my chest that i've been ignoring. i thought maybe i could pretend it into smoke and make-believe dragons. didn't work.
one time when i came to this field to beg for guidance or some kind of cosmic sign, an old man pulled up in his white sedan and flat out spoke the answer to my question. i took his advice. it worked.
this field is tuned in to the rhythm.
i was meditating. as usual. had been still for at least forty minutes or so, when i opened my eyes, looked to the right, and there he was.
a yearling. bearing first-year antlers with their summer velvet.
he was romping. impish. on legs still too long. and he was munching honey clover.
i've never been so still in all my life.
then i watched as he suddenly caught my scent, looked, and froze. he stood. i sat. and we locked eyes.
we stared at each other as the sun was setting. then he turned, and hopped along as he realized i wasn't a threat. he munched and danced and practically giggled. he sniffed the air, looked back at me, and dissolved into the woods.
the message came through loud and clear.
you're young and foolish. don't be so serious. play. be joyful. be a little reckless. stop fearing and freezing and, god, faking.
and as i was realizing this, a little field mouse ran smack into my hand.
i watched the sun fall. not a spectacular sunset--no exploding oranges. no cataclysms. just lavender and salmon. dust and glow.
and a long, slow,
fade to black.
prom
the prom was marvellous. i danced all night with fabulous ladies to a great band called love whip. they're from boston, so you bostonians should check them out. the lead singer is so lovely with her big dreads and funky voice and white electric guitar. and a guy spilled an entire mixed drink all over my favorite shoes. i thought to myself (as i was laughing hysterically) this really is prom! it was definitely better the second time around, seeing women i hadn't seen in years. brooklyn ex-pats and 22 year old divorcees. of course, then, the ONE cop in sugar hill shut the party down and we had to head home. AND that cop informed all of us to be careful driving through franconia because the asshole cop, mccay, was on duty. har. but it was lovely. this was just such an odd weekend for me, the hermit, the lonely pirate, to embark on. i wore pink. and makeup. eyeliner completely befuddles me. good thing shane was there, because i had NO idea what i was doing. i'm exhausted. ready for bed. egads, after this weekend, what will the next one bring.... i think i'll spend next weekend either in bed or in portland for the saltwater music festival. we'll see. it's going to take some motivation to get out of town, for sure.
that's right... LOTS of makeup. i think i look a little misshapen in these photos.
shane. my date. i dig dates in fuzzy pink slippers. odd angle, however, for both of us. wierd. ooo i hate photos. hi, remember hating your prom photos? god bless high school.
there is a field up on sugar hill that i go to when i'm feeling like this. got an ache somewhere in my chest that i've been ignoring. i thought maybe i could pretend it into smoke and make-believe dragons. didn't work.
one time when i came to this field to beg for guidance or some kind of cosmic sign, an old man pulled up in his white sedan and flat out spoke the answer to my question. i took his advice. it worked.
this field is tuned in to the rhythm.
i was meditating. as usual. had been still for at least forty minutes or so, when i opened my eyes, looked to the right, and there he was.
a yearling. bearing first-year antlers with their summer velvet.
he was romping. impish. on legs still too long. and he was munching honey clover.
i've never been so still in all my life.
then i watched as he suddenly caught my scent, looked, and froze. he stood. i sat. and we locked eyes.
we stared at each other as the sun was setting. then he turned, and hopped along as he realized i wasn't a threat. he munched and danced and practically giggled. he sniffed the air, looked back at me, and dissolved into the woods.
the message came through loud and clear.
you're young and foolish. don't be so serious. play. be joyful. be a little reckless. stop fearing and freezing and, god, faking.
and as i was realizing this, a little field mouse ran smack into my hand.
i watched the sun fall. not a spectacular sunset--no exploding oranges. no cataclysms. just lavender and salmon. dust and glow.
and a long, slow,
fade to black.
prom
the prom was marvellous. i danced all night with fabulous ladies to a great band called love whip. they're from boston, so you bostonians should check them out. the lead singer is so lovely with her big dreads and funky voice and white electric guitar. and a guy spilled an entire mixed drink all over my favorite shoes. i thought to myself (as i was laughing hysterically) this really is prom! it was definitely better the second time around, seeing women i hadn't seen in years. brooklyn ex-pats and 22 year old divorcees. of course, then, the ONE cop in sugar hill shut the party down and we had to head home. AND that cop informed all of us to be careful driving through franconia because the asshole cop, mccay, was on duty. har. but it was lovely. this was just such an odd weekend for me, the hermit, the lonely pirate, to embark on. i wore pink. and makeup. eyeliner completely befuddles me. good thing shane was there, because i had NO idea what i was doing. i'm exhausted. ready for bed. egads, after this weekend, what will the next one bring.... i think i'll spend next weekend either in bed or in portland for the saltwater music festival. we'll see. it's going to take some motivation to get out of town, for sure.
that's right... LOTS of makeup. i think i look a little misshapen in these photos.
shane. my date. i dig dates in fuzzy pink slippers. odd angle, however, for both of us. wierd. ooo i hate photos. hi, remember hating your prom photos? god bless high school.