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, January 14, 2010

What's in front of me....

The window in my study is to my right, the moon visible through my sheer curtains; my desk faces a beige blank wall. Computer straight ahead of me, a small 10" notebook style, my gift to myself, with a nifty turbo internet stick, so I can connect wherever whenever. Not sure why that was as important as it was, but it was. Must be those alpha leanings my colleagues keep commenting on...
I have 3D pipe as my screen saver; I could watch it for days. Atop the desk to the right my pen and pencil mugs, stuffed; a small body-building trophy, a woman in a gold lame bikini, whose face looks like a cat's caught in a flashlight's glare. Maybe I'll compete again. Aging is a pesky training variable; my joints are almost always sore, but that's been the case for as long as I can remember as an adult. Maybe I'm a masochist, too ...
just ahead are my staple and paper clip towers flanked by my cd's and my card collection; my green banker's lamp sits off to the left, no light bulb, but the overhead light is soft enough. Further, my touchstones shrine, photos of my partner and me, further right a photo of me and my son, the child, now man, who I never thought I'd see again, now present in ways I can only wonder at. There's a shelf of beach rocks taken from Middle Cove, a wild, starkly beautiful, rocky place just outside of the city where I grew up in Newfoundland. Incense smoke and scent, too much dust, lots of vertical organizing....some day, some day I'm going to have just a little more space. Nothing extravagant.
And of course, my books, my journals, things organized in categories that make sense only to me. It's beginning to feel more comfortable to me, my study. No need to rush these things... I've only been here ten years. Lots of upheaval translated into haphazard storage for longer than I wanted ... or needed. Clearing, now. Breathing easier. The tangles and brambles have a quiet resilience and dignity all their own. I'm learning how to be in the midst of them knowing that home resides in relation as much as place and this music fills me, almost to the brim.


  1. thanks to Jon for the prompt at expressivesubjects..... I like where these things take me.

  2. quite a beautiful description here... I can almost see the den in front of my eyes while reading... thanks for playing along, and for your suggestion to refine this last post... i appreciate it

  3. I am tucked into a corner and I like it. Though cluttered is is my spirit represented in each stack.

  4. Great description - you're lucky to have your own space - mine's family communal - like working in Grand Central.

  5. Jon-- thanks for your kind comments; I'm glad the description held enough to be a decent vessel of conveyance
    WM-- one man's clutter.... another's treasure! I imagine the touchstones abound in there
    Gerry -- thanks for letting me know that description is cool.... I like it!
    Pisces-- I'm grateful to you for helping me be more grateful for the space that I do have...my respect for you has just grown even more!

  6. Loved the clipped style - and above all, the content!

  7. Dave-- thanks for the visit and the comments .... glad you liked!