I awake in the jungle to jungle noises. I arrived in Kudat yesterday after a 2+ hour, sometimes prayer-raising drive in a minibus. I have no feel for this town—not even the Ria Hotel where I was to get one last burst of wifi, because Howard comes through the door paging me as my taxi pulls up.
She licked her wicked wounds and revealed her exotic and disturbing past on occasion at ladies luncheons and rotary breakfasts.When she dove into the dust of her back yard she pulled out apricot trees, watermelons, plums, pomegranates and even roses. Selma flowered in the relentless sun that would whip her sheets dry in a flash.
Thank you for this period on a stretched and strengthened morning, as I open my savasana eyes, breathe the lilac air and step into the light, wind, gray and sun–alternating–the way of springtime around here. May I live this day well, and you too. It’s a doable challenge, an inspiration to carry folded over and [...]
It’s sorta like if a tree falls in the forest and your name comes thundering out of the ground, shaking the birds and the worms and the little critters in the soil, was it there a minute before? Prob’ly not. When did it get there—when the tree fell or in my case, when she felt a little winsome.
How damn many times have I lost my car in one of these garages. Big buiding, tight corners, crazy barely legible reserved signs, huge SUVS bulging out of every mirror, side and corner at me. I’m completely hemmed in, yet I know I have acres of space. But what if those objects in mirror really [...]
All that energy scibbered away.
It sprung me: toss it in or let it out?
Maybe I could have spent it better
making something to hold onto…a nice pot.
Before My Piano Lesson Cat Woman, pale and severe, was systematic: first the older daughter; then the little one. She spit in her hankie and rubbed their faces. The girls were compliant. Walking up the stairs for my lesson, I’d pray that Cat Woman would just read her magazine this week. I’d take out my [...]
Frazzle, you little devil you. Yes I’m talking to you. Why can’t we just get along? You and your obsessions, compulsions and fears. You keep me working and reworking it to death sometimes. You chain me to the computer screen just so you know I’m hard at it—not even letting me get to the creative [...]
When I was younger and busier, as Christmas became more and more commercial, as retail crushed harder upon us and Christmas became the the marker of the economy, as downtown begat malls begat catalogues begat the internet, begat the cassette-CD-MP3-blaring soft-core soul whine of so-called music, it became easy to be increasingly annoyed by the hype and nonsense that confused Christmas.
Suddenly, other parts of me required unfolding and oxygen. I had to explore right here inside, even though visas and maps were tricky to come by. “Magnificent” helped me stretch and circulate blood through numbed extremities and circumvented pathways.