Dying/broken/forgiven.... now I begin

Born: 17-06-56....gemini.... monkey
re-born: 3-09-80
born again\found: 14-04-08
other notable dates: 10-03-68; 03-09-87; 23-03-96;
1-05-98; 31-01-02; 5-04-04

Interests: movement, stressed/transgressive embodiment, lived experience (body\space\time\relation)
expression ( word, dance, text, image, story, music, poetics)
learning, yielding......

Hopes for the blog:
offer up the wild intersectedness of lived experience and engage others in creative, expressive, perhaps irreverant, hopefully playful, and respectful encounters....
enact kindness
create moments of pause for disclosure, discovery, stillness

Thursday, February 2, 2017

No Mud, No Lotus


one month
and one week
and more
and two more days
did I say days??
I meant DAZE
Dazed, is more like it.
AMAZEd at how busyshit tasks crowd
my landscape
fill my time
jangle and clang

How necessary they seem until I hold them in my
GAZE
that's right. Full bore full burn gaze.
Breathe
Breathe
I phase in and out
I wonder about
the ways the crazy haze
shimmers
beckons

For now, I will lean into this moment
endless stillness possible
SPACE
Put in the big rocks first.


Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Soltice, 2016


Mahogany red hair
blond roots
rasping cough
I glanced her way to see if she was okay
Inclined I was to care
big boots
ticked off
She warned me
then she kicked me, hard.

I had the sense that there was more going on

Her eyes, her face, her voice
the way she needed space and control
the way she needed others' fear
She sat alone in the big back seat
all the way to Niagara Falls.
I suppose it's what she wanted
or what a life's satchel of habits
make possible.

My bruises remind me of the choices I make
to see and feel and hope
on this longest night, I yield to my gratitude.
I have no regrets.

Friday, December 2, 2016

Half Full


This is the body I live now
almost a year after
Solstice and beyond
I am still
Here
yearning and Yielding
This is;
what happens next?

Finally, more energy
Less distress
better sleep...sometimes
Some sensations will never go away
and some will never return
This is what happens....
Next?

Writing
blood and bone
Twilight
moon
dark
and dawn
Laughter, Rain
work of the heart
This is what happens next.

Saturday, December 26, 2015

Solstice and beyond



Two months and more
well, for sure
I did not feel that time move
I did not feel the twilight
or the dawns
I moved like a dragonfly
hovering, busy in many directions, adept at negotiating
the all day darknesses

mostly doing no harm
braced
praying
hoping
some days, swaying

body sore and bone tired
ready for soft rain
soft snow
soft fog
any fog
as long as it is still, the way only fog can be still

I will wander into it and find a clean river and there
I will sit, become nothing
become part of everything
become still


after that
some kind of return
will be possible.


Friday, October 16, 2015

Quiet Desperation


Dexterity remains under-rated
taken for granted
buttoning my shirt is no big deal
do it with my eyes
closed
Once upon a time
maybe so
but, Now...No.

key in the lock
    purse
car
    door
    floor, floor, floor
watch them soar
hear me roar
when I can't
face the dropsies
any more

Some days, the post-chemo world is
absurd
ridiculous in its good-natured
sense of humour
 adapting
always
adapting
moments
soaked with hope

Some days, the post-chemo world is
absurd
ridiculous in its taunting
I am this close to a laugh when I notice
I am
sobbing
containing
always
containing
darkness
soaked with tears

Yielding remains under-rated
Once upon a time, maybe so
But, Now...No.

Saturday, September 12, 2015

Logic



and on it goes, tales from Autism camp...

Victoria is my most senior camper. She has been attending for 20 years. I first met her when she was a few months shy of her 11th birthday. She has given me smiles, tears, a concussion, her trust and her friendship.
And, of course, her logic.

One theorist I study, Joseph Straus, proposes an alternative 'reading' of the 'symptoms' of autism. Rather than whatever edition of the DSM manual's rehash of 'make the call' one consults, there is usually a version of obsessive fixations, purposeless repetition, and deviant sociality (oftentimes known as 'the triad of impairments') as the markers of the disorder. Straus proposes fixity of focus, local coherence and private meanings as being more resonant with the lives of Auties and Aspies who are increasingly finding their own ways to tell the rest of us about their lives and experiences. Further, these characteristics are not deficits, but rather, ways of being in the world that are idiosyncratic, meaningful, functional and helpful. Other theorists of cultural semiotics, notably  Harwood Fisher, suggest that personal and embodied logics precede meaning... necessarily. I mention these two theorists' examples not to launch into a black hole of theory, but rather to contextualize a point that I want to make: that Victoria LIVES what many theories and theorists work hard to express.

Back to Victoria's logic.
We are on a mini-train at a Niagara Safari  venue. The train chugs and rolls and wobbles with stops along the way of the large and sprawling park. Whenever ASD camp goes to this venue, Victoria and I take a train ride around the whole property. She is taller than I by about a foot, and outweighs me by about 90 pounds. Throughout the ride, she makes imperious proclamations. Here is an example of her logic.
We stop to drop off and pick up passengers. She is ready to go. She shouts "Green light GO!" The driver obliges. On the ride to our next stop Victoria lays out her logic. Green lights go with red lights on the Christmas tree. At our next stop, we drop off passengers and pick up passengers. Victoria is ready to go. She shouts "Christmas!". Nothing happens. She looks at me, puzzled. How could the driver not have understood that connection? Green lights go with red lights on the Christmas tree. ERGO, Christmas means... GO. Duh. Eventually, the driver starts up the engine and we do, indeed, GO. I suspect, however, that this happened in spite of, rather than because of, Victoria's enthusiastic encouragement of the driver.
Victoria's reasoning/connecting of ideas is known as metonymic logic. Victoria builds this in her mental landscape as a set of private and coherent structures that lead her to a conclusion which, when examined with an open mind, does indeed have a logical structure which precedes meaning (what does Christmas 'mean'? it means GO).

Welcome to ASD camp. Again and anew.
Never dull; remarkable in so many ways.
My scholarship, my pedagogy and my open mind remain in awe (and in debt).








Thursday, September 3, 2015

Only Son


today you were born
and I was reborn.

you were the astronaut
navigating the next moon
and the next stars

and I was
and have always been
pulled, even as the tides are pulled,
into that terrible wonderful time of wondering, wandering, hoping 

no regrets
only son
only love