...thursday night,feelin' alright...

When I was walking to the co-op to do my shift tonight, I was totally overtaken by the mood sifting through the streets. It was very damp out, and hovering in that moment right before it starts misting. This air brought out all the smells hanging around. The main one I thought I could distinguish reminded me of homemade soup and a thick slice of bread. I could have sworn we were nearing the end of September more so than August. The leaves are already drying up and twisting off of their branches. I walked by the open door to a bar, not quite ready for business, and caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. It's one of those moments where it's a comforting smell, reminding me of friends and lost loves. This is the kind of evening when a hand made quilt is necessary along with a pet to give you kisses.
Then I remembered it's a Thursday. I wanted to be back in high school, when I had the Thursday night crew to look forward to. I got invited to it when Channah and I became friends. It was usually just a few of us, but sometimes more if folks were back in town. We always got together at Jamison's house around seven o'clock for good coffee, conversation, and an arthouse flick. I loved being there, especially on those colder nights. Jamison would hand roll cigarettes and put on a pot of coffee, while his family's big standard poodle, Caesar, would clatter around. We would eventually put the movie on, and then have to reluctantly amble home once it was over. It was almost always Nilufar, Jamison, Channah, me, Cecilia, and Saskia, Isaac, Margo, Mindy if they were in town. Sometimes others came too. After some time, we wouldn't even do stuff centered around the movie. We might make dinner, or smoke fruit flavored tobacco from the sheesha pipe Jamison had from living in Egypt. One summer night we had a sleepover and swam at midnight. Afterwards we crawled into the car to go to the grocery store to fill that hunger that only swimming can give you. There was also the night (headed back from a movie?) in Jamison's station wagon where it was pouring rain, and on Lowell, his windsheild wiper gave out. Everyone stuck their heads out the window to see the road. Tonight, years later and living in Brooklyn, everything aligned to have all of that flood back into my memory. What's sad is that I am not in close contact with any one of those people currently. There are no hard feelings, and when we run into each other it's always nice...we just all got busy...

...keepin' a look-out...

Yesterday I saw lots of interesting folks all around town. Making my way up the stairs to our subway platform, sweet sounds of a mandolin and a steel guitar hit my ears. Usually, people do not play at our station, so it was a nice morning treat. Waiting for the train, I saw the guy with two light blue puffs of hair that I had seen walking home the evening before, as well as the punky, pale, colored hair, lesbian couple I had seen on the train the day before. As I emerged on to the street at the 23rd street C/E station, I ran into Jacob who I work with on his way to a bagel store. On 22nd street in between 8th and 9th ave., the old man who is there every morning exchanged smiles with me. During lunch, I saw an interesting fellow in a red shirt with tons of rubber bands around his sleeves holding in various bulky objects. It was a unique solution to not carrying a bag. The train ride home was the usual squish of business folks, loud teenagers, little kids, etc. On the corner of my street, I ran into a guy who works with me in childcare at the co-op. He doesn't even live in the neighborhood. Okay, so...yeah. That entry was probably only worthwhile to me. I just enjoy human watching.

...shake your money maker...

Man, I should really not work at a bookstore, because I just keep running across things I want to have in my bookshelves. I guess out of all addictions I could have ended up with, books is not such a bad one. I have learned much restraint.
I need to spend some time making books. I haven't made one in quite some time...Now I have a work surface that is all mine (though the cats are trying to claim it like everything else!) and no excuse not to start MAKING something, anything. My head is waiting for a blank piece of paper.

...red in the face...

A weekend beach escape was great...courtesy of the DiCarlos. Fire Island is really perfect. Even though it was cloudy on the main day we were there, it was perfect. I had the ocean all to my self for a moment in time. A seagull cried out a warning as I noticed a constellation of sand on the back of my hand. It was such a heartbreaking, grey, beautiful day. Of course, today was perfect in a different way...the sun was out, the sky was BRIGHT, the waves were fantastic. Luckily, we got to enjoy it before we took the ferry back to the air-conditioned rodeo-of-a-city we live in.

...space seed...

Tonight I am babysitting Georgia. She is four going on five, and never ceases to amaze me with the things she thinks about. A couple weeks ago we were playing with her legos. All of them are the usual red, yellow, green, blue, except for one that is shiny and silver. She held this particular lego in her hand, turning it around slowly, and said, " I don't know where this came from." I thought she simply meant she couldn't remember who gave it to her, but then she continued, " I don't know how we got here, how this planet got here." It took me a second to respond, but then I did with the usual, " Well, everyone has a lot of different explanations for how things got here, and no one is either right or wrong. It's still a mystery." After a little more elaboration, and a couple moments of silence, Georgia decided it had to be seeds. ... Then she was only interested in what buildings we were working on.

...i am awake...

Cat in my lap, husband actually asleep before me, a productive day behind me, a bug just flew into view and I think I killed it - I'm not sure why, empty mason jar wanting to be full, bladder wanting to be empty, ol' clunky chugging away, barefeet patting on the linoleum, allergies found my forwarding address, heard some cicadas today!!! - didn't know they existed here at all, drew an anatomically correct eyeball to embroider on a pillow, did dishes to tool - one of the best bands ever, started a new book that Joan recommended - Empire Falls, been on a cooking jag, figured out part of an amelie song and a byrds song on the melodica, watched the teen choice awards while drinking wine and coffee, talked with my sleepy sister - today was her first day back teaching, prayin' for rain.

...help me!...

My archives are driving me up the wall! Can anyone tell me how to magically make them appear and work?! Thanks.

...what can you offer...

Do you ever think about how riduculous money is? How were we all made to believe that simple pieces of paper and metal actually hold power, and are worth working for? It's a spell of mass proportions. What if we went back to trading object for object? I do not know if that would necessarily (is that how it's spelled?) be better, but just think for a second...What things would totally disappear if we did that? I have no clue. Would there still be people who made cars, or appliances, and what would you have to do for them in order to get one? To some, playing a heart breaking song might be worth thousands, but to others it could mean a years worth of crops, or free access to your body, or a baby, or a fantastic meal. It's all relative.
Do most people even know how to make anything anymore?! If it came down to it, would people re-learn to spin yarn again, weave fabric, and construct clothes? Would more people learn ceramics, or how to build things, or whatever? I guess money is convenient in that everyone has something they know how to do and they get paper for it to buy the things they do not know how to do, or the things they do, but just don't have time or energy to. Has money made us uncreative and lazy? It' s a vicious cycle of having to have it, even for basics, and having to work way too much for way too little.
What about the concept of plastic = money. What about the stock market? Our money isn't even physically backed by gold anymore...Imaginary, huge numbers. What was it that Nasa just lost track of in space?...something that cost them four BILLION to build! Did that money even change hands? I seriously doubt it. Man, we are so far gone.
Okay...so now you know what a Sunday morning of too much coffee can do to me. Actually this is part of my mind all of the time. I've got to go buy groceries...

...do a little dance...

Today is much better. All of my future work is lined up and ready. My only babysitting is picking up a really fun girl from school every day, and other than that, I am working at the Dia! Art books, whee! A weight has been lifted. I have another book to recommend...this one is a kid's book, and is fabulous. It was introduced to us by our friends the Freelings *The Grey Lady and the Strawberry Snatcher by Molly Garrett Bang * So good. Alright...I promise to be more exciting soon.

...oy...

Is there a full moon on the rise, or is there nothing to pin everything bad/weird on? It's too hot to even care about anything...of course, I care about everything. Man, even the cats are getting in on the craziness. They want so bad to run outside. I keep trying to explain how sorely disappointed they would be when they discovered - man, I swear to something that Jeremy just! broke his favorite glass, I broke one earlier that's not even ours, I got a small shard in my finger cleaning it up, and Jeremy got one in his foot...things have got to get better right? - that there is no grass, not many birds, and hostile streets. The cats just don't care. They are like me, every place I should not be at the moment. Anyway, do not fret dear friends. It's just one of those days. We'll see how things are when the fog lifts in the morning.

...in times of trouble...

Sometimes I like to make lists of things that make me happy: anything involving Jeremy, stormy days, big sweaters, dandelion fuzz, driving through the southwest, a lovingly made meal, spending the day with a book, mail, the frenzied moment an idea strikes, working with wire, dancing to records with our cats, old suitcases, photographs, thinking of, or seeing my family and friends, frozen grapes on a hot summer day, spoons, when smell brings back a memory, history- familial and otherwise, multiples of small things, weaving, drinking from mason jars, sitting on the front stoop watching the world go by, talking with kids, wood floors, overalls, seeing them burn the prarie in Kansas, magnets, finding the cats in bizarre,small places. ...I'll stop tormenting you now;)

...new york struttin'...

Saturday was a perfect Brooklyn appreciation day. It was a great temperature out, and I got out of the house early. Jeremy and I walked to his new place of work (a children's bookstore - locally owned,) which was having it's opening day. I bought great kid's books, headed to the co-op for guacamole and pico de gallo materials, and sauntered home, bothering to stop and look in windows of stores I do not normally take time to. Then it was phone calls, Jeremy came home for a bit (too many people working,) pico and other food making, last minute cleaning, a frosty glass of water...Suddenly food is ready, our neighbors are over, good breeze shootin', and friends from Colorado come in to town. Perfect.

...bear with me...

I love to make lists and read books, so I am combining the two here. I really enjoy being introduced to books by friends, so if you have any suggestions please email me! These are just some of my favorite books: *anything written by Barbara Kingsolver, Isabel Allende, Dave Sedaris, Tom Robbins, and John Irving. *Cruddy by Lynda Barry, *A Cook's Tour by Anthony Bourdain, *The Autobiography of Malcom X as told to Alex Haley, *A Beginer's Guide To Constructing the Universe by Michael Schneider, *Ode to Common Things by Pablo Neruda, *Geek Love by Katherine Dunn, *The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy by Tim Burton, *A Natural History of the Senses by Diane Ackerman.

...dusty books...

Yesterday I was wandering through various photo albums, when I came across the pictures of euclid trees in Australia covered with maps from the scribbly moth. For those that do not know, scribbly moth catepillars leave trails of digestive fluid on one kind of euclid tree, then go back and suck up nutrients. The marks are left permanently. I like to think of my art and writing in comparison to them. We both leave behind a lot of residue to be looked at.

...stoop sittin' kind of day...

The moments before you open a letter are some of my favorite. Someone took the time to create something just for you. It takes only a minute at the most from when you take the letter inside to when you open it, but in that time, you investigate the weight, smell, and visual quality of the letter. Then you get the added pleasure of opening the letter and discovering what it holds inside.

I have not been a great letter creator recently, but I am working on it. I have to say I love the postal system, even though they raise prices, and lose stuff sometimes. They are carriers of love, friendship, hatred, junk, everything. What an interesting position to be in.

...ramblin'...

I could have sworn I heard the cicadas last night. It was just city noises, and wishful thinking.

the cicadas have been persistant this year,
not even bothering to pause during the day.
they are frantic to get out just one more dusty call
before they become a series of empty shells.

This is one of the essences of a Kansas City summer. I miss it there. I am discovering, though, the things that I love about New York (Brooklyn in particular) that will some day make my missing list.