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

Friday, December 31, 2010

mist and murmur, hold fast and howl

coming home requires 
attempting to touch down 
with no way to see solid ground below
trusting unseen 
assurances that what has been 
hold fast and howl 
as if this were the last cry to be heard
or the first one
bringing  breath into being
coming home 
 demands nothing more than breathing
for a change
not having to brace against anything 
except the wind's reminder if its insistence on being
coming  home  
mist and murmur
more lovely even than  brightness 
needing neither promises nor shame
sing call caw scree
hovering  between sea and sky
barely discernible from each other
 white and grey 
  sorrow tenderness memory hope
casting out past the furies
telling themselves back into wild 
coming home

Friday, December 24, 2010

always in my thoughts always in my heart

And ever has it been that love knows not its own depths
until the hour of separation.
--Kahlil Gibran
 The Prophet

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Whirlpool of torment

You will need some back story to appreciate this one.
Partner and I are learning American Sign Language ( ASL). Many of the folks that I work with need alternative forms of communication and partner is also on the hard of hearing spectrum, so it is a good time to be embarking on this adventure, even though at my tender age ( fifty plus), perceptual motor learning is going to be challenging, no matter what it is and no matter how motivated I am ( and I am quite motivated). One of the culminating assignments was a video of partners enaging in a series of signed dialogues, which would necessarily  include a broad sweep of all the vocabulary from the past 12 weeks of the course. To say that  the instructions were a bit unclear and ambiguous would be an understatement, but we persevered all the same, and our instructor brought in a demo video as a template, so we figured we had it figured out and we proceeded, onwards through the fog. One of the instructions was that the total running time was to be 10 minutes, max. No way, unless us two rank  novices become the flying hands project ( which we didn't!! ). A few other details  to include here would be that a) our whole downstairs was given over to this production, with a backdrop and lights and camera, b) partner cannot memorize to save his ass so we also had tri-fold poster boards filled  with our dialogue in 36 font placed strategically on dining room chairs behind the camera c) the dialogues were preceded by "mandatory"  signing of our name ( hi, my name is.... ) followed by "the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dogs", followed by the numbers 1-100, then addition and subtraction, and concluding with objects and colours ( black coffee, brown chair, red table.... ).
And, remember, we are working towards a 10 minute deadline.
So, we practice and practice  and then do the first video... over 14 minutes; then another 13: 40 something; then another and another. Now our forearms are cramping from the numbers, so we pack it in and pick it up the next day. Next day, we make some adjustments in our scintillating dialogue and  we get it down to 13: 11.... amazing; partner needs to adjust the poster boards since we had to do some re-typing and re-applying, and now he  can't see it quite evenly,  and that's when we decided to use some books to raise and stabilize the posters.  Another detail that you should know is that partner is a supremely over-educated man, one of his areas of study being religion, and we have MANY books on that subject.... thus it was that one such book made its way into one of our stabilizing piles but at a critical juncture slid out and landed on the floor. We had by that time gotten our speed down to 12:20 but the camera did not record.... so, while we wailed and gnashed our teeth, we noticed the title of the book.... yes, indeed " A Whirlpool of Torment". It's obviously a sign. Or at the very least, a theme!
Next take, 12:09. At that point, we said, oh gosh darn, that will do** (or words to that effect).
That's the saga; we handed in the video last Thursday night, still awaiting another sign... ( thumbs up or down!! )
This week's class, our last one, spontaneous storytelling and conversation. I'll keep you posted...
regardless, this has been one of the most intriguing learning experiences of my life... and I am looking forward to continuing. Onwards, through the fog.

Thursday, December 16, 2010


funny word, that...
like it's a momentary thing
turns out, it's a tease
or a grand deception
not a moment at all
more like sequences, strung one after the other, lessons from the body 
that feel like practical jokes
and recently, this latest: 
a bladder, that used to be the size of a peanut
is now the size of a lentil
stay tuned...

Sunday, December 12, 2010

This is how I know...

This is how I know that I was dirt poor growing up
without a thought that anyone around me
might have it different
early realizing  all that we didn't have
when my father thrust a pillow case into my hands
& told me to pack
we were leaving
 I bawled my eyes out
until my hands shook
sobbing shocked at how little there was to leave behind
& how frightened I was to go

This is how I know that I was cut from tougher cloth
coarse enough to shield me
from barbed wire and broken glass
knowing all the ways a good coat can be more
than just a garment to stop the cold
but also a blanket
a shelter
cloaked, I hunkered down until the storms had blown through
until the trouble and the terror subside

This is how I know that memory is a glorious and risky indulgence
it's not that I'm afraid to be alone with my own thoughts
it's the way that sorrow beckons, reminding me of all
I never want to forget
where I came from

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

some one else's words

Love blooms like crocuses: 
dirty, brave

Antay Bilgutay
from Six Word Memoirs on Love & Heartbreak
by writers famous and obscure
edited by Smith Magazine

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

I thought I heard...

I thought I heard the sound of the moon
pouring silver onto winter's branches
braiding ribbons between thorn and bramble
breathing secrets through the ocean's whispers
I thought I heard the sound of the moon

I though I heard the sound of the moon
holding tears and wishes for tomorrow
flickering through tangled frosted lace
carrying the tender hope of sorrow
I thought  I heard the sound of the moon

Thursday, December 2, 2010


early on
in my (re)discovery of living 
in the world of feelings
I thought happiness was an emotion
I know it is