... the world is round ...

... the world is round ...

what's your world like today?

i hope you are finding ways of escaping summer's fury ... a pool would be good for that sort of thing. (i would float for hours, sans vêtements, and would spend the evening giving names to freckles bourne anew.)

how have you been occupying your time? for me, there's been work - we are in inventory mode and i am supremely tired of counting things - and the play, and visits with friends and to the shops. not a lot of activity, really ...

i have been difficult, out of sorts, lately ... needy in ways i'm unfamiliar and uncomfortable with. my apologies if any splashed over onto you.

(it is arrogant, i suppose, to presume you're even interested in this story, but i don't want to hold myself back just because i don't know... )

old wisdoms don't bury peaceably, especially not my own ...

the last days have been a constant reminder that in every life, all is not what it seems. at any given time, reality is a hall of mirrors ... sadness hiding in the heart of euphoria, the spark of great achievement bubbling inside a cauldron of adversity. so too, no end is ever really complete without a new beginning stirring inside it. i divide life into categories in order to understand and master it, but experience itself is seamless. i have to trust, i suppose, that dramatic changes only happen according to divine appointment. i have to have faith that change will benefit me more than clinging to the old ways would have.

sometimes, i think i'd like to keep you separate from all of this. it's painful as hell, and frightening too ... nurturing the life i want to live into being ... opening up the space to find something that better suits me, to find a way to love people without feeling like i'm hurting them by loving them the way i want to.

yet, it feels comfortable, somehow, this knowledge that everyone is busy with their separate lives, and we can go for a week or two with no word, popping in on each other, and it's enough to know that you're still right there, in some corner of my life and i'm right here, in some corner of yours.

as for the corners of my life ...

the play went well. in the end, it played much, much better than it read. there was raucous laughter and thunderous applause and some lovely adjectives tossed about - 'charming' ... 'stunning' ... 'incandescent' ... are among my favorites. and i am $30 richer and hold the title of 'audience favorite' - an odd thing, to be sure, the judging of 'art.' i am not in favor of it, but do enjoy the spoils, i must admit.

work is good. busy, of course. tomorrow is inventory, so i've been up long before the sun this week, counting, adjusting numbers and solving the mysteries of the back of the house. i am a 'words' girl ... numbers send me spinning in all the wrong ways, and yet, the exercise is oddly pleasurable ...

... bringing order to a place where chaos has reigned is an unusual experience ... one i enjoy, but will be glad to see completed ... after all, the world is round, and the place that may seem like the end may only be just the beginning...

shock and awe

i tend to think of shock only in the context of unpleasant events. i'm remembering, now, i can also be jarred by that sudden release of tension which comes with unexpected success. keeping my bearings in the aftershock of victory will be a delightful exercise, i imagine. one i am keen for.

see, the last few weeks have found me battling phantoms and spending my strength with little to show for it. the only way to calm the storm in my brain, i find, is to sit so still, even i forget i am here. from the outside, it must seem an interesting exercise for a whirling-dervish like me ... watching me resist the urge to talk, talk, talk ... my vulnerability revealing itself in ways that challenge my self-control.

i am feeling my way through an awkward space - between places and events - belonging to all and none at the same time and wishing desperately for a space (& time?) to call my own. it's a difficult trip to navigate and the events of past days have left me slightly unnerved.

i imagine it's a hard lesson for those who love me ... my need for solitude. friends will call, come near, come home and i seem irritated (for i am irritated); they interrupt my train of thought, break into the dreamy silence of my day - wince as they see the expression on my face, hear the timbre of my voice - like a closed door - as if i've gone inside some room in my mind where i'm writing or dreaming.

i cannot help it, would not change it. i am who i am and i do what i do. i can only behave in a style that is the most true of 'me.' i can't force that truth. it comes with surrender and the decision to sing out and allow it to escape.

and, sometimes, it's a silent song ... for me alone.

writing, tending the truth, is a private thing. i protect my thoughts as i would my sex. sharing only what i'd like, when i'd like, with the persons only of my choosing. it is a process i do not wish to lay bare. (and it's pleasures are intense for those who engage in it.)

at the same time, i know that everything that radiates light or love is dependent upon something else and only through these dependencies do we discover that everything is related, each thing to the other. awareness of my own dependency on others is the key which will unlock the door to my true place in the world. no woman is an island.

though if i were, i should imagine it would be a great place to visit - you just wouldn't want to live there.

elle a senti peur se dissiper.*

it's friday the 13th and i'm wondering ... what are you afraid of?

for me, it's snakes and lizards and salamanders; drowning; the return of the 'boy band;' losing my childlike enthusiasm; flying - well, crashing, actually; never learning to say 'i like you' without frightening people away; wanting something too much.

which, of course, is what i've just gone and done. stupid girl. i won't tell you what it is, so don't ask me ... because for me, the simple act of 'wanting' something 'too much' will guarantee its distance, so i don't.

it's a gift, really. i can talk myself into anything, including this elevated state of aloofness. i can choose not to care ... but if i've learned anything in these last months, then that would be a bad idea. possibly the worst of all ... flames don't flicker forever and moths are born to be burned.

so today, i'll fight hard against my willful anaesthesia, cross my fingers and jump right into the middle of this 'want.' after all, when you've been drowning, the first breath is always the most painful.


*translation - 'she felt the fear disappear.'

fear of flying

fear of flying

i am home from my latest trip. this time, i was in dallas for a few days to see the new fall merchandise for the store. i think it takes longer to get to and through the airport than it does to actually fly there and back, but still, i enjoy the process. the airport is ripe with possibility. the entire world is, literally, at my feet and i adore the idea that at any minute, i could step through another gate and be on my way to some new and wonderful adventure.

as much as i love the airport, i do not love flying. well, that's not exactly true. i like flying. i do not like the 'taking off.' i do not like the 'landing.' i know people who can read, listen to their ipods, talk with their seat mate during these crucial flight times, but i am not one of them. nope. can't do it.

i quietly grip the armrest, close my eyes and hold my breath. in my head, i picture the people and pets i adore and say silent 'i love yous' to them all. i am convinced that it is these 'i love yous' and not physics or aerodynamics that allow the planes i'm aboard to ascend and alight safely.

ridiculous? perhaps. irrational? indeed. but still. it's what i do. and to date, i have a perfect record. yeah, me!