dear margaret atwood,
last night, in a dream, you took me to the dallas road beach and showed me
icebergs. they were beautiful. all cerulean under the water, which had risen
to the top of the sea wall, which was frozen also. you sat on a bench with your feet
in a blue tide pool and patted the space beside you and i looked at my own feet
and they were already wet.
ready or not
spirit guide?


i'm having some pretty funny thoughts right now
about computers
about mirrors.
i feel kind of funny today but i can't
put my finger on why.
this seems to be happening to a lot of people.
my left shoulder burns and burns.
the moon blooms and blooms.
and somewhere, around another body,
the earth blooms too.
it's only life after all

i am supposed to be writing b h film journals.
instead, i am fondling a big slab of white
light and listening to the indigo girls

win some
lose some?


i can watch my hands typing, which fascinates me and creeps me out at the same time.
they move as if separate from my body, like spiders, or thing, from the adams family.
i have a feeling it's going to worsen my spelling, this watching myself.
it has a gold filigree frame and one side has a different pattern than the other three sides, or maybe all four sides are different, it's hard for me to tell in this light, and that might be why it was only five dollars, or that might have been because it was at a consignment shop and that might have been why it was at a consignment shop, but in any case
how wonderful it will be for portraits, for automatic writing.
it looks quite striking with all the other gold filigree things i have round here.


the wind, it jumbled my brain

walk into traffic
blue moon, glowing,


good time:
my first class tomorrow,
cancelled, and tonight, a late night date with
margaret atwood.


reading week just toodled right on past, didn't it.
it was ten days but it felt,
i don't know.
don't get me started on linear time right now.
at any rate, tonight i'm having trouble remembering my class schedule and my project deadlines
and if you asked me what i would like to be doing most in the universe right now my answer would be
i have no idea.
i'm feeling pretty
bbbzzzzzz ish
and i have to get to the bottom of this
i have to figure out
how to get it out


another story, brought to you by chelsea's big slab of rose quartz

i had a really nice time in misha yoga tonight.
took final relaxation in heart bed with my love mitten
in my left hand, and when i left, in a daze, i walked circles
around the town until finally my feet found a route home and on douglas street
i walked by a man in a big sweater with a white beard and a brown beret
and i smiled at him and he smiled back and i smiled wider and we both kept walking
or that's what i thought, until
i looked over and he was walking beside me and i couldn't hear him through my headphones
and when i took them out he pointed at the sack on my back and said
is that a drum you're carrying?
and i said
it's a yoga mat.
and i laughed and he laughed and said
what a rude old man i am
and i laughed and i said
it's ok
and he said, so you've just been to a yoga class? you're very relaxed? it's radiating out of you. listen, do you want to have a beer or a coffee or something?
and i said
well, i have nothing to do. why not.
so we walked to swans and he told me he's the island trust representative
for hornby and i said
that was my first nude beach
and we had some ales and some yam fries
and talked about the travesty of the 2010 olympics and the meaning
of life and when the beers were finished and all the yam fries were eaten
we walked to his car and he gave me a big hug and said
i just love you i love your energy and i let him
touch my head and then he got into his car and i jaunted off into the night
and maybe i'll see him again sometime
and maybe not


still light at ten past five.
this is a big deal, people.


i've had a weird little day.
i couldn't get anything done without dithering
about it for half an hour first.
had to buy emergency tampons and i saw
an old man fall over in the street and just now
some stoned kid bailed down my stairwell
with his bike.
value village had nothing for me,
i wasn't hungry for dinner,
the cats smell my blood and on my walk
they all came running.


Moon Trine Jupiter Orb 1° 18'

"This is a fortunate time for you, emotionally and possibly in other respects also. A woman can act as a benefactor to you in some way. Social activities are favored also."

hm. how interesting.


i'm sorry to trouble with you
i wrote by accident in a business email this afternoon.
i'm sorry to trouble with

o it's getting worse,
this dyslexia.
but it's making things so much more fun.
janine has a book called
nursery knitting
which i kept reading as
sunrise knitting,
and when i wrote down call numbers at the library the other day
i jumbled one up and instead of
the hissing of summer lawns
i got a canadian/inuit/argentinian/brazilian collaboration cd whose last song is
i kid you not
"the calendar of the ancient Maya, combining 52 solar cycles and 73 ritual cycles. Each solar cycle consists of 18 months of 20 days each, plus 5 extra [unlucky] days. The ritual cycles represent rotations of 20 day names and numbers 1 to 13, adding up to 260 days, so that the same combinations of month and day names and numbers recur only in 52 years [see page 18]. The music may be performed in full or in part, in real time [over 52 years] or compressed time [at any chosen scale]. In the latter case there is a correlation between the Mayan calendar and actual performance day [for this recording, Tuesday, April 24, 1990]. This version incorporates voice, synthesizer, and percussion instruments and flutes indigenous to Latin America."
on page 18 is a diagram of the mayan calendar.
thanks, universe.


i have the tiniest scrap of national geographic text
stuck to the sleeve of my sweater.
(it's really hard, when trying to spell
not to spell
which apparently means, combined with some other evidence, i am becoming more and more dyslexic with each passing day
but that's another story.)
and this scrap is torn
in the shape of south america
and the only text i can make out is
i wonder
everything's a little full moonish today. a little
lunar eclipse ish.
i'm going to hide in my apartment, eat perogies, and listen to klezmer music until it's over.


this afternoon i bought a salt lamp and some other funny rocks and when i got home
i feel, now, that much better about life.
on the list now:
-gather energy


i've been working for four hours and i've only finished half of this midterm.
this midterm.
also, the image database's 20 minute inactivity timeout is REALLY annoying.


a story, brought to you by chelsea's big slab of rose quartz

on sunday, while i was pilfering value village
for zippers, i found in the sewing notions section
an an indian doll elephant embroidered
with all the colours of a hot sunset.
gold bracelets on its trunk and legs,
a tuft of orange wool fastened to a red bead fastened
to its third eye.
there is no question about whether or not i got it. i
this thing
and it was four dollars.
at bean, i put it on the table between steph and i and when elise got there
i said,
if anyone thinks of a name for this elephant, tell me.
but then it came to me in a flash of
americano and the elephant's name was henceforth
hiram. then,
yesterday i got too high to be alive and sewed little glass bead eyes onto him, so he could see.
one eye is black and one eye is holographic.
i even cut the thread so it looked like eyelashes.
and then i finally figured out what to do with my chrysocolla
and when i finished sewing it all onto him, brit promptly cuddled him right at her neck and he fell asleep on her shoulder. it was pretty much the cutest thing i've ever seen and some three-year old child inside me was ecstatic because what i have here is a doll. the doll is exactly what i need.
a doll's a girl's closest friend. that's what they say. isn't it?
anyway, most of you don't care about any of that. but do you want to hear something funny? of course you do. that's what you come here for.
tonight, when i got home from yoga, hiram was huffing his trunk at me from the loft so i
brought him down here and stood him on the desk with one foot on the flourite
broken worry stone and went to
babynames.com to look up
origin: hebrew
definition: exalted brother
that's what it says.
that's pretty funny
i do reckon.


so much for reading week.
the ocean collage just made itself
in an hour.
you know, when art is this effortless it is so pointless
to try and sit down with schoolwork.