heavy rest

heavy tonight
pull of melancholy
from no source

just some echo

from a distant surface

there is no why

and nothing pleases

in a turn
all that can excite
suddenly will not

after experience

is a quiet hour or two

a fruitless reckoning

a necessary pause

shadow/substance

Remember when I used to be comfortable taking selfies?  I think the last few years have brought in a bit of confusion for me there.  When I got the DSLR, phone quality photos just didn't do it for me anymore... and it's nearly impossible to take a decent self portrait with the Nikons without some serious forethought and set up.  So I just sort of stopped.  I disappeared behind the lens and documented to excess the rest of my world.  It sort of came in conjunction with a disdain for the way that so many women use selfies.  In my mind, selfies became directly related to cries for attention and a gross desperation for affirmation.  Even now, when people write flattering things on a profile picture, I feel weird about it.  As if affirmation of my looks points to my insecurities.  I don't know if that makes sense outside my head.  What I do know is that it's quite a bit distorted at its core, and I'm hoping to get it sorted eventually.

But I sort of miss having some sort of record of myself over the years.  Maybe if I had kept a better one, I wouldn't have packed on these uncomfortable extra pounds.  Who knows.  But in an effort to try, I'm doing a photo shoot trade with another photographer in a few weeks.  To get over the weirdness of being in front of the camera.  And to see myself again.

And on a somewhat related note- this post by Amanda Palmer ABSOLUTELY resonates with me.  At first I felt conflicted about it.  Don't I, on principle, loathe every single woman who posts pictures of themselves in their underwear?  But hey wait a minute, why don't I loathe this at all?  And it started this whole chain of thoughts.  I think that the complicated parts of my last relationship made me quick to see other women and bodies first as threats.  It was an act of self preservation, really- to size others up that way.  But I HATE IT.  I hate that thinking.  It becomes a sex negative, puritanical, limiting mindset that is the opposite of love and freedom.   Anyway- I think Amanda Palmer presents such a body positive, authentic glimpse of herself that I love it.  I love that it captures the moment so unapologetically.  I love that her body is what it is.  And to me, this is light years away from the types of underwear shots that bother me so much.  With a little distance from the relationship, I'm starting to find that the women's images that are so obvious looking for a certain type of sexual attention that used to cause me so much anxiety, not just seem a bit pathetic.  Nothing to lose sleep over.  As obvious and shallow and often beautiful as they appear to be.  And that's fine.  Bodies are beautiful.  Desperation for attention- not so much.  I hope to find some balance beam in between.

Speaking of bodies- I've been making strides toward getting back into  shape.  The thing is, every step closer to where you want to be makes you realize how far away you are- and have been- for a long time.  How did I let myself get like this?  I joined a Barre Workout class and was HUMBLED.  I had visions of being a natural dancer who by some cruel accident had just never been exposed to the dance world.  Ummm... no.  Black Swan I am not.  I nearly passed out somewhere in the 35 minute area and generally wanted to die.  But immediately after, all those endorphins showed up to bat and I felt invigorated and motivated to keep trying.  So I will.  So far, the general rule is eat less and move more.  It's working so far.  Just more slowly than I'd like.

A quick tribute to my companion of late.  Pictured here- en route to SF (aka AWAY) and a complete and utter fail at duck face.  No idea.  I'm thankful for D's consistency in my life.  We may have been situational friends at first, but the years have seen us through all sorts of shifts and stops and starts.  At this point, even if just by proxy for so long, we know each other pretty damn well.  And I'm really grateful to have such a good go-to for company/ distraction/ getting into not-trouble.

Speaking of companions:  My coward.  My fighter.  My boy, Sherman, is finally restored after a nasty fight left his paw gashed open.  He's back to being good company and generally annoying.  

I missed them stupidly much while I was away.

Kevin Arnold, after strumming his first three chords on an electric guitar.

 Kevin Arnold, after kissing Winnie Cooper for the second time in one summer and referring to himself as "a man on fire."

Is it possible to overdo it with The Wonder Years?  I'm thinking no. I had a little panic the other night when I realized I'd reached the end of the season and I wasn't sure if there were any more.  I'm nearing the send of Season 5- and I just was relieved to see that I'll be watching straight on through Season 6 as well.  It's been my background editing company.  I have to say, the casting in this show was CHOICE.  And I wish, much like Angela Chase's internal monologues, that I could have Kevin Arnold's grown up monologues narrate my days.  His voice is comforting like Dan Savage or Mark Maron to me.

My nephew sleeps mouth open like me.  Is that hereditary?  Sorry dude.

And in terms of my freedom...

It's funny how the very same thing both hurts and helps.  The freedom.  The hindsight.  The foresight.  Meeting ghosts.  Licking wounds.  Relapses.  Echos and memory.

I've been doing pretty well.  A lot of walks.  A lot of healthy choices.  Some temporary, unhealthy choices.  Playing guitar again and remembering how much of myself I find in there.  Realizing how my core hasn't wavered- and I'm able to see some of it clearer now.  Not knowing what you want can feel a little like freedom, I suppose.  It's enough to float on, at least.  Now I have a better idea now of what I want.  Not the every detail, but the core mass of it.  The shadow of the substance.  And I know it with an impassible certainty that only experience can deliver.  I'll let these days and months play me and play out, and I'll keep my eye out for the substance.  I'm in no hurry.  Nothing if not patient.

Ignoring the video part of it, here is a link to what I know myself to want now:  

Wealth

I look forward to the giving.

Only

4
.

lost & found

i went to the city.  i didn't find that picture
and the ache felt far away.
 now i'm in the country
& there's some comfort in the rain.

i'm hanging up my well-worn badge.
i've looked and found for my last time.
now i know that i can say never
with utter peace of mind.

and now

grief.

deep.

goodbye goodbye goodbye