things are proceeding more or less as usual.
today the sun moved into virgo and
it took me three hours to decide what to eat for dinner.


it finally happened.
Deep Change.
aritzia came to victoria and
i wasn't the first to know about it.
i've been suspicious, though, for a couple of weeks.
(those girls carrying the paper bags all over town
could not all be from vancouver?)
so i have resolved for days and days to get to the bottom of this
and finally i have done it only to discover they opened up
in mayfair mall?
o well.
we all know that once my bus pass has been renewed i will trot on down to it
but who are we kidding. i won't buy anything probably.
not when their list of fall two thousand and nine must-haves includes
high waisted leather leggings.
i've just started rolling my eyes, you know.
can i wear high waisted leather leggings to yoga?
um, NO.


today i saw an old man
dressed as a clown
rollerblading past my house.


today the world opened itself to me as clamshell.

some other events occurred, including:
ani difranco booked a victoria show, on my birthday.


not as idea, she says, but as
Felt Experience


further progressions:
"move slowly, and..."
applies to many more things than
the body.


move slowly, he says, and the body
will reward you with flexibility.

full lotus


yesterday morning i got to the shop and miria says to me,
so what do you think, chelsea,
do you think the summer's back is broken?
and i looked at her and i thought about it and i took inventory of my outfit:
beret scarf wool turtleneck moccasins
(cold feet)
and i recalled the trees outside the brickyard only days earlier,
their surreptitious leaf-dropping, and i said,
yes. i think it is.

something in the air. something in the sun.
something about the dusk in the studio at twenty past seven.
i bemoaned socklessness in the middle of the day and was given a pair
(white, handknit by miria's 92 year old mother) and when i put them on
i gave kukka a big cuddle and said, look, little cat, our back paws match.
woolly white socks on our little black legs.

something, too, about the sickness. the sickness brought by the turning.
two nights in a row of profound nausea followed by
fifteen hours of sleep last night.

and now my hair is a mess because it's eleven a.m. and i just woke up
and i'm wearing my furlined moccasins and there is cloud cover and
a chill and maybe i won't even leave the house today.
maybe i won't even.


today at chels hotel:
crackpot bike repair
visitations by fat black cats


today i caught a tourist taking a picture of me on government street.
i can't blame him. i looked pretty ridiculous. everything matched,
but nothing matched. paisley and peonies and triangles.
they're always a little funny, the days i wear too many patterns
by accident, and this day was no exception.
something about the andalusite
in my left hand, the aquamarine
in my right.
local colour, he probably thought.
just some hippie chick with holographic sunglasses and
a yoga mat and a jangling anklet.
little does he know
dot dot dot

something about all these funny things i brought back with me.
i sent out a wish when i got home that all i want to do for the rest of the summer
is play outside and listen to live music.
someone got it.
in the last 25 hours:
bc day concert in st. ann's yard
christian rock sermon in beacon hill park plus
everywhere =
chelsea in the sun ^ fun.
and it's not the folk festival, sure,
but it sure is something.
especially that church one.
oh tuna.

since i got home i've been making a real effort to learn from every experience i have because

this is august. this is all
new. july is so over, people.
seven becomes eight and eight
is infinity