|
|
|
|
|
|
Saturday, April 24, 2004
called dawn in london this morning and reached her at a salvador dali exhibit with her partner angela--a surreal moment to say the least.
all day spent organizing the office and writing--catching up on correspondence. listening to old kate bush songs and looking at the fuschia japanese blossoms budding in the front yard.
here's what i want for a birthday present, someday: a memory to keep. a limousine ride with friends and select good ones . .a bottle of chilled imperial brut rose champagne and a box of caramels and chocolate truffles from vienna passed around in the backseat . .a mixtape with mindbenders from laurie anderson and bjork and bryan ferry and tori amos all melding perfectly together . .and from the window a twilight skyline, maybe paris or amsterdam, maybe chicago or new york, i don't know . .but there's a stopover at a cozy dance club where we can all drink fruit slushees and sweat to old disco . .and then later, we all end up at somebody's intimate garden party where everyone is comfortable with one another and we all can frolic about and nobody cares. maybe we all sing old familiar songs until we cry. or read poems to one another. or listen deeply to someone's sad guitar ballad. or maybe we just light sparklers and firecrackers and stare up at the light trails. but i want to feel my head full and i want to experience euphoria again .. that uncontrollable giggling, that fierce belly laughter where you sink down to the floor and you imagine you'll never stop cracking up. i want to wake up and feel i really lived through the wildest night. i want all that and every single one of my blazing candles on a yellow frosted whipped cream banana cake. and then i want to do it again. and then, again. and again.
Friday, April 23, 2004
i'm very attracted lately to this b-side song kate bush sings. it's one of donovan's songs which tells the story of an amorous attraction between a human being and a swan. the love somehow transforms the person into this beautiful creature and the two swans fly away . .though people on the shore believe that the woman has drowned. here are the lyrics to "lord of the reedy river" by donovan:
"i fell in love with a swan.
my eyes were filled with feathers,
he filled me with song,
in the reedy river,
in the reedy river.
i in my boat long hours,
he in his royal plumage--
i threw him some flowers,
in the reedy river,
in the reedy river.
black was the night and starry.
i loosened off my garments
and let forth my hair,
in the reedy river,
in the reedy river.
sadly they mourned and sighed,
whilst in evening twilight
two swans glide and fly
in the reedy river,
in the reedy river,
i fell in love with a swan."
words by donovan, from kate bush's b-side cd contained in the collection, "this woman's work"
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
i've been feeling rather unsettled lately . .i want to say, almost angry, but it's more like a slow convulsion, an implosion of some sort . . . .i could simply blow away in the wind if given the chance. i hear myself at my desk at work--a heavy sigh at each turn. my co-worker beth keeps asking: "are you okay?" and i just give her a blank stare. she keeps saying, "don't worry, we're going to go out for your birthday, somewhere nice." and then i get this sad picture of myself slogging in some fat cocktail, weepy on a barstool with an old story that everyone seems to know by heart because i've told it repeatedly. "what is this odd malaise that seems to drape over me--what is it?" i keep asking myself. this isn't some sort of poetic ennui. and i don't think a jet to the tropics or a spa massage would fix it. dawn and angela left for london on tuesday. the weather here the last two days has been drizzly. i'm not getting enough sleep. but none of that is really the reason for this strange haunting within. i'm in this relationship but i still feel isolated. and i feel withdrawn. and i feel like i don't want to even be held at the moment. let me be the driftwood you find on a lonely beach--the mishaped piece you throw back into the ocean water. let me be the cry of the gull. or the wisp of a cloud that keeps morphing into shapes, at once familiar, then abstract, then gone. let me be something far off in the distance, like a beautiful tiny house you see from your car window, a lovely cottage you think you want to enter, a home you imagine to be inviting and settled, but you keep on driving by, and it gets smaller and smaller, until it just vanishes.
Monday, April 19, 2004
new moon in aries. aries rules new beginnings and self-discovery, as well as independence and courage. rock on!
last night's "queer as folk" episode had a curious moment on it. when vic received a postcard from one of his radical faerie friends, i nearly flipped when i heard that his friend's "faerie name" was "michaelangelo" --hey, just like me!! i said out loud to anthony: "wait a minute, that's my magical name too, the name i was given at birth was michaelangelo!" just so cool!
the day before i received some "non-identifying" information from catholic charities about my adoption. i now know more information about my birth mother and father. my mother was only seventeen when she came to the agency. she was catholic of german, english and french decent. she left school to help her family. my birthfather was born in 1941. he was of swedish and irish decent, a protestant. he loved reading, swimming and horsebackriding. he was only nineteen when i was given up for adoption. both of my parents were working class individuals. that's all i know for now--no proper names, no other information. i'm deciding right now whether or not to continue with the search process--at this point, i'm just letting this small piece of the puzzle register with me.
i've been listening to massive attack's new cd "100th window." lots of great sinead o'connor remixes . . . lush electronica. been thinking about the moon in eclipse, hidden in darkness, shadow. been staring at the white apple blossom tree in the backyard is in full bloom. when the wind blows it's like a snowy blizzard of pearly petals outside my window . .gorgeous!
Sunday, April 18, 2004
visited xavier yesterday in chicago and had a chance to walk along the lakefront, have supper at my favorite japanese restaurant in lakeview, matsuya (miso soup, california maki, eel sushi with green caviar, and chicken teriyaki) and have a long soulful chat on his rooftop overlooking the beautiful urban skyline.
xavier looking into the camera:
^ back to top
|
|
|
|
| |
|
