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    poetry


    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    just to dig it all and not to wonder

    ...Created 2009-03-24 23:28:28

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    School started again. I never thought I could accomplish so much reading. I am taking some very interesting classes. Only ONE writing class. Its called "Writing from the Body" Basically, every day, we do some yoga and meditation for an hour and a half. Then we write. Then we do some kind of activity to get us moving and interacting, like improv, or play 'red light green light' then, we write. Then we talk for a while. Its pretty interesting. I am just a fan of meditating and getting rid of your inhibitions when you write I guess. We also talk our stream-of-conscience out loud together. That's fucking hard to do man. Also I'm taking History of Ideas, which is exactly what it sounds like (where the basis of all thought came from, big ideas of humanity, religion, politics, love etc) Also I'm in Lit Survey one: midevil lit to the 1800's (BORING, but we are reading a great book called "the prosody handbook" kind of on the side, which is about form, which I don't like. I think I like the book because of the way its written. Its really cosmic sounding and mystical. Like poetry as this art. Which it is. But people forget that.)
    What else.... some art history class that is pretty much meaningless but its about art and tech which is interesting. And Printmaking which is my first studio class in a few years and I kinda like it. Its refreshing.
    Ian's coming in a week!
    Things are looking pretty good these days.

    ...Created 2008-09-11 23:30:38

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    Today I stopped several times to sit by my window. My window faces a brick wall and my bed is below it. I sit on the bed with all the pillows behind me, feet up on the sill, sometimes dangling out the window, drinking cold water. There is nothing really interesting about looking out the window but I like the breeze and the cool water and putting my feet up.
    Tonight my roommates made a vegan dinner. Moroccan orange-walnut salad with tofu, and a lemon tart with lots of fresh fruit. I feel a little sick now because I just feel that way when I eat a lot of vegan food. I am essentially a midwestern girl at heart after all. Veganism just doesn't go so well for me. I love dairy, white meats, and lots of bread. Its just how I work.
    Yesterday was my day off and I made a Quipu. A Quipu is basically an ancient Incan recording device, composed of string or yarn tied in knots. There is some kind of system of the knots that gives them different values, such as color, amount of knots and length I think too. I don't really know much about it, and no one in the living world knows how to read one anymore (that I know of) They are pretty much indecipherable. I like making Quipu's because its very relaxing to sit and tie hundreds of knots and think of what you are attempting to record with them, vaguely. This Quipu I hung across the window in the living room.
    Its kind of odd being back in Chicago. It is either that I was never here or that I never left, its hard to tell. My time in California and my time in Chicago seem like two separate lives. When I am here, I feel that California is a dream, or when I am in California I feel that Chicago is a dream. Or an alternate reality, or a parallel one. Or a memory. I suppose it is a memory and all of those things. I am the same person no matter where I travel too though.
    I miss Ian very much. He is a very special and exciting person to me and has been for a long time. Its hard to describe. It is just what is and what is supposed to be. I like walking dogs with him and sleeping every night with him and waking up with him. I want to live up in a little rambling house in the foothills with Ian. Have a couple dogs. I want school to be over for the both of us so we can finally get to a point where we can settle into our lives together. I dislike the feeling that I belong in two places at once. But for now I sleep with his shirt every night, and wake from a half-dream thinking he is next to me.
    I am however headed back to California in two weeks... I can't stay away, everything in me is pointing west.

    ...Created 2008-07-30 03:59:30

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    We walked the dogs in the riverbed this afternoon with Ian's mother. Bear walks above us on the trail and scouts the area in front of us. Bear is half-Akita, like the sake we drank in little tokyo. Half japanese hunting dog.
    The rocks in the riverbed ares stained primary blue by some dye or powder.
    In the dry, dyed blue riverbed where the dog walks in front and above us, Ian's mother identifies flowers native to California. Some she cannot name. Others I cannot remember. I think one was Eucalyptus.
    What I really remember was pulling on mustard flowers and getting blue streaks on my palm. Blue lines on my palm.
    I spent the earliest of the day exploring Occidental College with its wet green grass. Ian works in the library there. Occidental is a 1920's campus. It could be in another time or place. I walked around the library finding low sunken spots to step down into and to sit and read in. The lavender bloom trees were shedding in the June gloom. Most of the day I tried communicating with animals, even a squirrel. No luck really, although I think may understand Bear slightly, and he me. But only because he is Ian's spirit animal which walks beside him.

    The riverbed reminds me of this place I used to go to when I was a kid.

    We would sneak out of my friend Ashley's trailer and back through the thin woods and over the dune. On the other side was a large, secluded clearing of cattails and a knee high to waist high retention pond- filled with deformed tadpoles. We would take the cattails and strip them, forcing their fluffy seeds to scatter everywhere. We caught the tadpoles which eventually grew to frogs and hopped away as the ditch drained in the summer. Actually it evaporated I suppose. We swam in the filthy lukewarm water. Ashley is married with a baby now. Her little brother Frankie died in a car crash when he was five. He was a cute little blonde kid.

    Today I was thinking of all the people I've met who are slowly slipping my mind. And the ones cemented there forever like physical indentations, immediate and permanent. As if you could actually make a memory a solid, touchable thing. (Maybe that is a painting or a poem). And an abstraction, a whim, an emotion you could not solidify. Who knows where it comes from. Where does the work come from? More importantly, (or not) where does it go? (maybe back to where it came from)


    How is a riverbed a riverbed if there is never a river in it?
    I have never seen a river in it.
    There is not a riverbed if there is no river.
    A dry river maybe. Something there must be some other name for it. Also- how is california so lush if it never rains? if it is a semi-desert? Yet never rains? maybe there is ground water. Why are the rivers dry? maybe that is why the palm trunks are so thick- they suck up and swell with fresh ground water.

    ...Created 2008-06-10 18:30:56

    dotsJournal: Los Angelesdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    I'm living in my boyfriends apartment in North Hollywood, CA right now. I like it here a lot. Lots of people hate LA... I can see why, but I can also see why to love it too. We've been lucky so far with everything. Lots of good stuff happening. Hopefully the things I want can all come together someday. I hope so.
    I head back to Chicago on July 14th or so.
    I love summer.

    ...Created 2008-05-29 17:24:03

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    I wish I wasn't a person. I wish that I was something more abstract and simple. Like a sound or a movement. I wish that I could delete this thing. I wish I could delete myself from a lot of places. A lot of people I wish I didn't know, didn't have to deal with. Wish they didn't know me either. Just want to escape to a tiny cool place. Fuck the shit out of someone you fucking love and have them look at you. Beautiful. New Orleans; We're trying. We promise.
    We're gonna give it to each other.

    ...Created 2008-01-22 12:52:28

    dotsJournal: novemberdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    There will be TIME for
    ENDLESS VISIONS
    and
    REVISIONS.

    I revised alot lately. Editing is the beautiful evil.
    Entirely new version of Aloud, now titled Allowed is up.
    Slight changes to Combine.
    Slight changes to Born Confessing.
    Could use advice as always. I am sorry I am such a bad reciprocator.
    Someday I will return all the favors.
    Semester is near completion and I am relieved.
    December, come faster.
    Its cold here.

    ...Created 2007-11-15 21:39:22

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    This is literally, literally, what I wrote in my journal today...

    Tarot Cards. Greek Myths. Fate.

    All sides of one person...

    I love you.

    I would do you wrong,, and you to me. That is the way that it works.
    If you are vulnerable you must defend.

    "In short- I was afraid"

    I am a woman. And he is everything in relation.

    YOU HAVE NO IDEA how excited I am to see what will happen to me in the next year. It is beyond anything.

    The walls are made of something but I can't imagine them. In all cities people sleep. There windows are piled and each one looks like a picture. Who loved those rooms? These rooms lit by lamplight. Women sit on their couches..
    It is all unique in presence.

    Come into me. Over me.
    The mark of time, I confuse us. The hawk on your... my arm.
    What body.

    I will be honest- I don't know the color of your eyes.
    All the men I've known closely have had odd-colored eyes.
    He was dark, heavy browed, I think his mother was persian.
    His eyes are blue.
    You are Italian or polish, I think. Although, I've never asked you.
    The way you look is of small importance.
    Although I do like the way you look.
    As is the way I look (I look... incomplete)
    I guess I cant know the way I look to you.

    I know I look like my mother. This is a plain fact.
    Proven by my fathers reaction to me.
    He thinks I will become her.

    I will be twenty in february.

    ...Created 2007-09-11 19:04:22

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    take acid and go listen to THE BRIAN JONESTOWN MASSACRE

    ...Created 2007-08-19 23:55:55

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    they have dicks and they are fucking GENIUS.
    in the hands of men we are led to the promise land.

    contained we collaborated to make things of great meaning. tiny babies with fetal hands. scattering- such an obligation goes without saying. i am the daughter of a women with mis-matched eyesight and a man waving from a train car in the home land. and you can live your whole life with someone and know NOTHING. you can let him inside you and BELIEVE him and still it is never love. it is lies - especially.

    meaning from a trash can friday the thirteenth. seven years past a millennium of memories i do not owe or own. this is what you have- have-had - enjoyed. free your mind, body, dis-understand where your mouth ends- know that you extend beyond this room. the back of your head. the superficial seat of your pants. go to class! PRETEND. forget - flashbulbs. remember, they don't use these anymore AND there are people that talk the same. How do i talk? words blur- speech slurs. scribbles bend to hands.

    YOUNG MAN- you now you'll be old and better someday! wait it out till then.

    metal capacity is certainly the most important thing on god's green earth OH WHY MUST HE OWN IT AND ME?

    unfortunately its not enough to see color and understand. you see EVERYTHING but what you see. you see nothing actual, concrete. COHESIVE, manageable. you left me, so i killed you very effectively with books, money and the cheapest wine that i could find.

    i want to DESTROY whatever you love. Anything and any part of it. i want it gone- and yet i worry. I WORRY about YOU. isn't that ridiculous? I wonder if you are all right. If your puffy blood-locked eyes are a metaphor for something less-surface.

    i embody weakness. needs, desires, unyielding. can't you see it? it soaks pours and leaves doors wide open. its disgusting. FORGET IT '

    I want to forget the things that are better- the peak. and your Bare Ankles.

    MT ZION! MT ZION! Oh, The Promise Land Comes.

    ...Created 2007-08-13 22:21:41

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

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    January 10 07
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