Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Favorite album



I loved Billy Joel.  I wrote him letters.  I got stamped photos in return, which I put up on my wall.  I had all of his albums on vinyl and listened to them over and over.  I can't really pin a favorite and they all were good until he met Christie Brinkley.  Then shit went south. 

His first album, "Cold Spring Harbor" I could not find for a long time, then got a copy on cassette and it was okayyy, but it has one of my favorite songs, which appeared on a later album. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMSo9ig_Mg8

Turnstiles is his breakout album.  All of the songs are fabulous.  This is the album I fell for, and became a huge fan for life.  Here is a link to the whole album, I think my favorite song is James.  They all tell stories, that is what I love about Billy Joel.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0nCtlgaffY&list=PLb7YSwrGOyBQgrLCwNLXcNAEO3Pk5IOZV



Most people love the song Piano Man and without a doubt it is a great song.  I love it, and loved to sing it at the karaoke bar in the nineties when I still went out drinking.  The best song on the album though is this one:


The Ballad Of Billy The Kid always got me fantasizing about my wishful life of crime and escape from my boring life at home.  


The Stranger is his most popular album, other than "greatest hits" type albums and is a performance piece best heard from beginning to end.  The current culture of songs being single entities is a loss in some ways, the loss of the "album experience" of an entire piece fitting together, moving the listener through an entire emotional experience or story.  The Stranger is that kind of album.  All the songs are great, but I'll just post this one, which as a an amateur philosophy and psychology student, struck home:




52nd Street is another amazing album.  Stiletto is one of my all time favorite songs, it is just outstanding and very sexy to me.  Rosalinda's Eyes is exceptionally sweet, I find myself singing it still sometimes, and it is never played on the radio.  He wrote it for his mother.



I listened to Glass Houses over and over and over.  The song that most resonates with me is You May Be Right.  


I'm sure this was a phase of his life when he was doing lots and lots of cocaine.  I don't know why I think that, it just seems to fit.  

The last album I want to share is The Nylon Curtain.  I saw this album as Billy growing up, really becoming more of an adult.  

The song that really hits me on this album is Pressure.


I was very disappointed with An Innocent Man and felt he was going backwards rather than forwards in his creativity.  Also, I don't like Christie Brinkley for some reason.  He got stupid, it seemed to me.  Although I never really got invested in his music again, there is one song that captured me in subsequent albums.  I learned his lullabye and used to sing it to my kids when they were little.


BEST SONG EVER:


Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Smell

Olfactory stimulation is emotional manipulation
Missing him I smell his tie, lingering remnants of my gramps dead years.
Driving in the country I open my window
Cows, tall grass and wind bring me back to old tears
Goodbye grandma, see you at Easter, or Fourth of July, or Thanksgiving.

Wet clean hair as I hug my daughters close, I file that memory for time when I'll be alone
The strange scent of dogs feet, every dog I've ever loved stretch in my mind
Running on the beach swimming in the lake, cuddled on the couch, teeth scrape across a bone
Electric smell of a television screen as I press my face against the tube, trying to look in and see what is what in there.

Skin, warm and soft, her body calls me to take her in
Axillus, popliteal, antecubital.  Calves smell different than thighs
The thin skin where the leg meets the torso, not quite the cleft, light sparkles in her eyes
As I move my nose up and down her body, inhale her essence, release.
Nose and heart linked in so many kinds of love.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

My Most Distinct Childhood Memory

It is interesting, because I remember so much of my childhood.  I am unusual, I think.  I remember taking a bath in the kitchen sink and I could not have been more than two.  I remember when my brother Michael was a tiny baby and we got our dog King.  I got to name him, and suggested Duke (my grandma's dog), Butch (my neighbor's dog), Princess (he's a boy) and finally King (whew!).  I remember leaving my red tricycle on the corner when my mom called me for lunch and running down the block after to find it GONE.  I understood theft for the first time.  I remember all my preschool teachers and every elementary teacher I had and details of events that happened in each grade.  I remember the first "big word" that I learned how to read: helicopter.  It is hard to grasp my "most distinct" memory since I have so many distinct memories.  I'll share one that still carries a strong emotional impact on me.

I was in third grade, Mr. Isermann's class.  I had a friend in class named Javier.  He used to call me and we would talk on the phone, a novelty to talk to a friend and not just out of town relatives.  Although Javi and I were in the same school, we did not live in the same neighborhood.  He lived across Sheridan Road, a busy road that had a real crossing guard on it to stop traffic when kids needed to cross, not just the sixth graders with patrol belts and badges on.  I don't know how he got permission from his parents, but he came over sometimes.  We played together in my yard, pretended we were in a street gang and had to fight to defend our territory.  One day at school he invited me to visit his house, he said he had a fort he wanted to show me.  Oh heck yeah I wanted to go see his fort!  So after school I turned left instead of right at the front of the school and walked with him to the busy street, waited for the crossing guard to stop traffic, and went with Javi to his neighborhood.  His street was very quiet, right next to an elevated train track and had no cars driving on it.  His house was pretty and white with yellow curtains and I went in and met his parents.  The fort was down the street, another boy joined us as we walked toward a grey house.  That boy was older, a sixth grader I didn't really know at all.  They showed me a hole in a fencing area underneath a porch on the grey house.  I looked at them.  "Go in," they said.  "It's inside."

As I am writing this, I am feeling anxiety building in my chest and a part of my brain is shaming me for going with him, for not going home after school, for going somewhere I didn't even know how to get home from, for being so stupid.  I also know I was eight or nine years old, and had no fear at that moment.  I wasn't afraid of Javier, I wasn't afraid of that older boy, and I wasn't afraid of going under some strange porch in a strange neighborhood and no one knowing where I was.

I got on my hands and knees and crawled in.  My backpack scraped against the wood of the porch as I wormed my way under the porch.  The first thing I noticed was a dirty mattress taking up most of the floor space.  Then I saw a black armchair with no legs stuffed up in a corner.  The boys were coming in behind me and I looked at the mattress and then at the chair.  I sat in the chair because something told me not to be on a mattress with boys.  They came in.  I don't remember how tall the little area was, if we were squatting or kneeling or what but I can't imagine we could stand up.

"Isn't it cool?" Javier asked.

"Yeah, really cool." I smiled.  It was creepy and dirty and I didn't like it.  Javi leaned in and started to kiss me, putting his hands on my arms and holding me down into the chair.  I struggled, said, "Stop!  What are you doing?"  He pressed his tongue into my mouth and the other boy reached over and held my legs down.  I struggled harder and they gripped me harder, both of them with their hands on my body, moving their hands around over my clothes.  I was terrified and already getting tired, and I decided to go limp and store up my energy for one, big break out.  As I went limp, Javi said, "Yeah that's right just relax and enjoy it.  Don't fight."  At that moment, as I was coiling my muscles for my huge burst of energy to escape, I heard a voice.

"Angela!  Angela!"  Javier and the boy let go of me and looked at me.

"That's my grandpa!  I have to go, he is looking for me."  Oh thank god, thank god for my grandpa!  How did he find me, how did he even know where to look?  I grabbed my backpack and crawled out from under the porch.  My grandfather was walking down the middle of the street, his hands to his mouth, calling my name.  I hugged his legs and looked into his face.  He smiled and hugged me.  He wasn't angry.  I asked, "How did you find me?"

"When you didn't come home I went to the school and the crossing guard remembered you going home with some boy and she thought he lived down this street.  So I came to get you, honey.  You should have come home first."

"I'm sorry grandpa, I should not have come here.  I'm so happy you found me."  The boys and the fort were forgotten behind me and I held my grandfather's hand as he and I walked to the corner where he had parked his red Oldsmobile.

"Were you lost, honey?"  he asked.

"Yes grampa I got lost and didn't know how to get home."

Monday, November 3, 2014

Highlight interview



I decided to take a risk in my interview subject and ask my husband Corydon about the highlight of his year.  This past year has had a significant amount of changes, one could almost say turmoil.  We are doing well through it all, and offer one another support in all ways that we can.  He came home from a long weekend with his girlfriend, tired, and the girls were not being kind to him.  

"Hey, I need to interview someone about the highlight of their year and I thought I'd ask you."
"Yeah?" he said.  And went to bed.  I wondered if he really heard me or just was not interested or was too tired to even think about it.  I decided I'd ask someone else, maybe Julia my fifteen year old daughter because I have a noticeable streak of masochism.  So I asked her:  "I don't know.  Nothing."  Okayyyy.  Off to bed with me.

In the morning I woke early (damn you Daylight Savings Time!) and Corydon was up.  He is a morning person.  

"So what's this about an interview?"  Ahhhh, he did hear me.  I explain.  He looks out the window.  I take a bite of my toast.  He looks at me and smiles.  I smile back.  I get up and make myself some tea.  Finally I ask, "Are you going to answer me?"  

"Oh!  You want an answer now?  Yeah, okay.  Well, I guess you know what I'm going to say."

"You know honey, you keep surprising me so I figured I'd ask and listen to you rather than assume what you are going to say," I reply.  

After a minute or so he answers me.  

"I never thought it would be possible for me to fall in love at fifty.  I thought all that was behind me, or it wouldn't be the same.  The rush of feelings, the excitement.  It reminds me of when you and I fell in love.  And it helps me understand what you went through with Rosie.  I understand much more now about how you feel about Rosie, and how hard it was. At least, I think I do.  Yeah, falling in love at fifty has been a surprise."




Sunday, November 2, 2014

My home sweet home

I remember house hunting when we decided we were ready to buy.  Was it twenty years ago? I think around that.  We got pre-approved for some exorbitant amount of money that we could never, ever afford in real life and hit the streets and the ads and the internet.  Did the internet exist back then?  I think it must have.  I vaguely remember looking at realty websites.  

We asked around and recruited my Uncle Bob and Gene, my brother's father-in-law because they were real estate agents.  I'm sure we annoyed the hell out of them.  Visiting the homes Gene recommended seemed to be a study in what he thought of us.  We walked through the weirdest homes.  One was fitted inside in every detail to look like the inside of a sailing vessel, complete with a long, narrow galley for a dining area that would certainly have caused guests to rub elbows, literally.  Another house had an indoor, in-ground pool (oh yeah!) but the room had a huge tree growing inside, with the roof built around it.  It was very pretty and interesting, but we imagined huge costs around fixing leaks in the roof (which was dripping while we were there) and there is no way winter would be good on that house.  Another house was nice, it was on a quiet street, but it had tens of thousands of dollars in security systems.  On the surface it seems a good idea, but having all that actually kind of creeped me out wondering what the heck the threat is?  It made me too anxious.  I would have felt much less safe there.  

Ultimately, we ended up buying my parents' house.  They were getting more and more fed up with the rental properties on either side of the house, the kids cutting through the yard, the constant change in neighbors that always just seemed to get worse.  Plus most of us kids had moved out and my mom was sick of cleaning such a big house.   My Aunt Dolly had a smaller house on the north side and she wanted to downsize to a condo.  We did The Big Switcheroo all at the same time, Corydon and I buying my parents' house, them buying Aunt Dol's, and Aunt Dolly buying the condo.  It was exciting, crushing my chest with fear, shoulders back with pride, joyful and terrifying.  Signing my name to that huge amount of debt felt like a life sentence of toil and the possible shame of failure and bankruptcy and also like settling in to adulthood in the best possible way.  

My father is a retired electrician.  Throughout my childhood there are many instances of things that were "unable" to be repaired.  Our front doorbell made a THUNK rather than a chime for a few years.  He tried to fix it, and finally just took it out.  I had no idea how many things my dad had half-assed until we bought the house.  My dad pretty much stopped coming over with my mom because she would see something Corydon had done and get pissed at Dad.  "A dimmer switch in the dining room?  How did you DO that?  Ken!  Ken, you told me you couldn't PUT a dimmer switch on this thing."  My dad would mumble and wander into the back yard, sometimes not returning and walking home.  Electrician's tape, pennies, and oh yes a chest freezer in the basement full of deer meat from 1978.  A huge plus in selling your house to your kid is you don't have to actually clean anything out.  

My house is my home.  No other house we looked at had the feel of what I wanted.  What I wanted was MY HOUSE and I'm so lucky we got it.  As far as the rotating neighbor kids:  we put up a fence.  

Monday, September 1, 2014

Why I Value Female Space

I’m the oldest of four kids.  After me I have a brother and two sisters.  I was a tomboy my whole life.  I have pictures of myself around age 4 with a short haircut and a home made coat my grandmother made for me.  I remember telling people I was a boy, I insisted I was a boy when they said, “what a nice little girl!”  The short haircut was at my request; I wanted a “boy haircut”.  It was tolerated until I got into adolescence.  Before sixth grade I was held down by neighborhood boys, kissed and groped against my struggles.  This happened on at least three separate occasions, and each time I knew it was my fault for trusting them, my fault for being alone with them, my fault for being too weak to fight them off.  I definitely knew better than to tell my parents.  I didn’t want to get punished for it at home too.  Still, playing with the boys was way better than playing with the girls.  With boys I could ride my bike all over, play football, dig through the dumpsters for aluminum cans, fish and jump off the pier with our bikes.  Girls played house, dolls, tea.  I tried to be tough.  

When I wanted a BB gun, my brother got one.  When I wanted a tough, badass bike my brother got one.  My dad was and is a very strong-tempered angry man, unpredictable. My value was less than my brother's.  I got a boyfriend in elementary school so the meaner boys would think harder before messing with me because I was “Eddie’s girl”.  When we played kiss-tag at recess, I caught girls and held them until the boys could get there and claim them.  Getting breasts was the worst betrayal I could have imagined—until I got my period.  My whole life started to change.

When I went to junior high, I went to my first dance.  I sat alone in the bleachers watching everyone and an older boy asked me if I wanted to dance.  “Sure, I guess!”  “Well good luck getting anyone to ask you, har har har.”  “Asshole,” I mumbled under my breath.  Then a girl came and sat near me.  We talked, danced a fast dance together (not touching of course), and I told her about the jerk guy.  She could hardly believe it.  On the way out, she asked me my homeroom because she wanted to write me a note the next day.  Finally, a friend!  Some boy called her over and I could tell they were talking about me.  She looked at me and laughed; when she came back I asked what they were talking about.  “Oh, he just wanted to know if you are a boy or a girl. I told him you are a boy, of course!”  “But I am a girl.”  Nervous laughter.  She was shocked.  I asked her what she was going to put into that note.  “I was going to ask you to go with me!!!”  She never spoke to me again, talked shit about me in school, gave me dirty looks for the next two years. 

Another girl who was clearly a lesbian had a crush on me but I had learned my lesson.  I made sure she knew I didn’t like her AT ALL.  I fought with boys in the lunchroom, had boys snap my bra and poke me in the crotch with a wood and metal ruler, tease me out of shop class.  The shop teacher told me not to sign up for shop next semester, it just wasn’t worth it.  I was tired of being on the bottom of the food chain.  I became a gender conformist.  I got whistles from men on the streets and heard about a girl who was raped in the park one block away from my house at nine o’clock at night.  A park I always played in until way after dark.  The one with the library in it—my sanctuary! 

I dated a nineteen year old when I was fourteen, I was never without a boyfriend after that.  Boys were much easier to understand than girls, much easier to please and figure out.  When I had a hickey, my mother told me I was playing with fire, that I would reget it for the rest of my life.  I was born out of wedlock, so she knew what she was talking about I guess.  I was the mistake she has had to live with for the rest of her life.

I still faced harassment from men.  I (happily) lost my virginity when I was fifteen to a nineteen-year-old boyfriend.  He moved away after a couple of weeks and never called me again.  My boss at the Y cut my hours when I wouldn’t go out with him.  I was sixteen, he was twenty-three.  I had sex with the English teacher advisor to the school newspaper when I was seventeen and the News Editor of the paper.  He was thirty-four.  My high school teacher advisor to the Forensics club asked me to spend the night with him when I was a freshman in college and helping judge a Forensics competition.  I was eighteen, he was in his fifties.  My sophomore college English teacher asked me to wear high heels and humiliate him, make him crawl around and call him names while he licked my shoes.  I didn’t think I could not laugh so I turned him down.  I did get a “C” in that class, but I deserved better.  I do regret not doing it, it would be kind of fun now. There’s more, but you all get the drift. I don’t need to go into the daily little humiliations we face, the chronic impact of these throughout our lives.  

I never saw myself as a victim of abuse.  I consider myself one of the lucky ones.  So many of women’s stories are worse than mine.  A psychology professor asked my sister out when she was in college and she asked me what to do.  "Go out with him!  Flirt, bat your eyes, pay attention.  You will get an A!"  She just couldn't do it.  I can't believe that is what I told her to do.  The whole thing is what I always called, “just growing up girl in America”. 

Now I am a feminist.  I don’t conform.  I wear what is comfortable and get my hair cut how I like it—short.  Three years ago I heard a lecture about LGBT-welcoming work places and I fit the description of transgender.  HUH??  I am not trans gender.  I am not –not trans gender.  I am not cis gender.  I am a woman, I am my gender.  My gender isn’t me.

How did I learn this? There was no women's studies department at my school. There were no women's studies classes or elements in any class. I observed the world and started to notice. I did my senior seminar on how Nietzche treats women and got a D from my misogynist assistant professor. My real professor was on leave of absence because he got a divorce and the guy who filled in actually told me he liked working with runaway girls in NYC because of the "sexual tension" between him and the homeless, abused girls. I met a woman who was a worker at fest and she started me on my feminist path by bringing me to A Room Of One's Own in Madison, talking about fest, and finally I went to the michfest bb. The discussions, although intimidating to this baby feminist, were informative and helped me at least know where to look for books. Going to fest was part of my journey, and living for JUST ONE WEEK without the misogyny constantly on my back made me start to realize what freedom might feel like. Looking and seeing, every person here is a woman, every bearded, muscled, butch and every high heel wearing in the dirt, dresses and fishnets taking out the garbage, using the sledgehammer, laughing and sighing together WOMYN born and raised.

Tent Love

I slept in a tent last night with my love. It was fabulous. Stars were bright, moon held my heart in its bowl.  Moist air heavy on us, skin sticking together.  Wind moving through the trees as a front came in at 2 a.m. took my breath with it and lifted my spirit as it cooled my warm skin. She fits so well in my arms.


Friday, June 20, 2014

Stuckness

Some say that people who are addicts are stuck at the age they first started using until they not only stop using drugs, alcohol, sex, etc. and begin recovery but also do the emotional work that is entailed in the full concept of recovery.  Social and emotional development is halted.  This is also referred to as a "dry drunk".  Some also say that trauma can create sticky points in social and emotional development, particularly when a person is under stress.  I've seen a seventeen year old boy suck his thumb and sit and rock, urinate on someone else's clothes when that person irritated him, talk in the high pitched, musical cadence of toddlerhood when feeling powerless.  

Georgette Wonders was my minister at the UU church I attended for about five years.  She and I got to be friends for a while until I got a bit overwhelmed in various areas of my life and stopped attending church.  She once told me when she sees me, she sees my "inner" 13 year old boy.  She expected to see a slingshot in my pocket whenever I turned around.  My thought was, "Yeah.  She sees me."  I repeated her impression to my very good friend Jeannine.  Her face lit up a bit and she said, "Well that makes all kinds of sense!"  Am I stuck at age thirteen in some measure, for whatever reason?  I doubt that, since I am successful at maintaining  a large amount of responsibility.  That part of me, the responsible part that mostly runs my life, is a durable but semi-porous wall containing my real self, that mischievous kid.  So who is stuck, "him" or "me"? 

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Heartbreak

As I look to the topic list, I'm not surprised I have gotten stuck here.  Having recently initiated a breakup makes this one painful to contemplate.  I go back and forth with using this outlet as a way to put out there what comes to my mind and heart when I try to write about heartbreak.  Should I try and put out of my head what comes to mind and write something entirely different?  Should I try and fictionalize it, even though those close to me know what(who) I am really talking about?  Is this too public a place to write my thoughts when she may read them and it may cause more pain for her, and people who know both of us will certainly read? Yet I am stuck feeling compelled to write it out, unable to simply skip it and move on to the next topic. I tried to move on to "Fences" and "Something Close To You" and the same thing happened. I want to write about "It" and until I do not much else is going to happen.


Having one's heart broken is a terrible thing.  Most of us have been there, and we can relate.  Being the breaker is a less sympathetic role. I remember when two friends of mine left their partners to be together. They were part of a larger group of close friends who vacationed together, had dinner together weekly, partied together for more than fifteen years.  I was friendly with everyone, some more than others, but not a part of the inner group.  When Darlene told me Skip had left her a note on the mantel while she was away at a conference, I didn't immediately connect it to Bill telling Corydon two days before, "June brought me some tea and said 'Today is the day I'm leaving you.'"  The fact that they left together actually took me a day or so to fully realize.  The shock wave still rolls through this group of friends to a more or less extent ten years later. Darlene's first response to me: "It isn't so much that he left me; we certainly have had our problems in this marriage and that doesn't surprise me.  It's that he turned my life into a FUCKING JERRY SPRINGER EPISODE!"  Everyone in the close group of friends was devastated.  Corydon and I were shook up.  It still stings sometimes, and if I had to see Skip and June on a regular basis, perhaps it will have faded.  They moved away so I have not had to find out.  Would it have felt better if they had done therapy, sat and talked things out, if he was there for her pain and grief, if she could hear him tell her why he needed to leave?  I'm not certain that would have helped.


Is it possible to break up with someone "right"?  I like to think that is happening in my marriage, but time will tell since it is happening at a geologic rate.  None of the breakups I have initiated (three) happened quickly from my perspective, although each person I broke it off with expressed surprise.  "I knew things were not going well, but..." was a theme.  My inner thought has been, "Really?"  At first it was said in my head in a sarcastic tone, then evolved to contemplation.  Really?  Am I not expressing myself well?  Am I being too indirect?  I've never been accused of being oblique but perhaps when it comes to relationships I am not as capable of being open with how I am feeling.  I hate to be hurtful, and will sometimes walk around criticism. I've always thought I have good boundaries and don't tolerate bullshit, but certainly I can think of examples where I have excused bad behavior toward me, or been able to forgive because I either did not want to give up on the relationship or it was making me sick to hang on to the anger.  What is the line between flexible and willing to work on things and not having good boundaries, allowing myself to be treated poorly?


By far the worst breakup is the most recent.  The extreme depth of her pain, reaching toward me in ways that are painful for her of course and to see and experience from my end as well, her mixed messages and inability to let things go, the twists she puts on things--it hurts.  It hurts to feel like the cause of this grief, and of course she says I am the cause.  I know intellectually I am not solely, but that the change in our relationship was the trigger for this huge outpouring of pain.  She started spinning it in her head before it even really happened, changing the facts and putting the worst possible light on it. I said I was ready for friendship with her, as we had discussed.  Ready to move into something more with someone else, something that will be a partnership.  She said "You are dumping me.  Just say it that way, don't sugarcoat it."  And I had a decision to make:  take it all back or just agree with her and be out of it.  As hard as it is, I needed to be out of it.  From there, she has taken every good thing we shared and twisted it into a negative. Her memory changes to reflect her feelings.  Now, I never loved her. The last time we had sex was robotic and horrible.  I was using her for her money.  I said I dumped her because she is old and decrepit.  I am a liar and a cheater.  She tells people these things, and I tell people nothing.  Should I have put off the conversation until after fest?  Deferred, soothed her, stuffed my feelings of suffocation and growing impatience with her bitterness and negativity?  Forced myself to spend time with her through another fest filled with her talking shit about people every night in bed, waiting for her rage to turn onto me (again)?  I have thought in the past, "why am I still doing this?  This is not a partnership and is never going to be. If is isn't fun anymore, why am I still here?"


What took me so long?


The nature of a long distance relationship can be forgiving.  The honeymoon lasts longer and it is easy to let go of the bad things when they aren't right there in your face.  But really, the bad things were right there in my face.  I just overlooked them because I wanted *someone* and I got many of my needs met in that relationship.  It was accommodating to my life.  I was able to have a relationship with a woman who did not demand I divorce my husband.  In fact, when I talked about divorcing him she was very discouraging.  I think this was partly because she related my relationship with him to her relationship with her husband and she is very much in love with him and partnered for life.  Also though:  a change with him would mean a change with us.  She knows I want a full time partner, and a step toward that is a step away from her.


I think I am a very accommodating person.  I tolerate people's quirks, strangeness, etc. more than some.  I think my work experience has taught me to be understanding and not take things personally when maybe sometimes I should take them personally.  I have at times let people say very rude things to me without any response from me other than ignoring or avoiding and I think that is part of it too.  I don't want negativity to mar my fest so I let things slide, and my relationship with her was very tied up in my emotional relationship with fest.

There have been consequences from this breakup, and I'm sure it isn't finished yet.  Some people have definitely chosen sides.  I am dating someone who recently left her partner and that is messy and complicates things in ways that will be twisted and used against me.  Attributions and correlations will be made that are inaccurate and I may be starting over in many ways.  Many times Red told me she would be happy for me when I find the right woman, when I move into something that fits even though it would hurt her to lose me.  I wish that were true; true or not, it is worth it.  

Friday, February 7, 2014

An object close to me

Bound
Creamy and smooth
Permanently inked, lovingly handled
Telling tales literal and fancied
Unbelievable and yet true.


Monday, January 6, 2014

Fences

Preferring openness, I have built fences where I never imagined fences would be needed or desired.  A line demarcating not privacy or solitude but safety, a fence is in some ways an imaginary barrier, easy to overcome with motivation.  A fence has never deterred a determined invader and safety is an illusion.