x-rays

looking inside me lately is scary.
tumbled mess.
the things i want are simple.
i don't know why i complicate everything.
i just get so lost.
and i worry about right and wrong.
and what God wants me to do.
and whether i just don't listen.
or if life is really just about living it.
you know? and loving. and peace. and stuff.
could it be as simple as i want it to be?
like paint on my hands and hot cups of tea.
leaves the color of fire around my feet and being held in
these arms that don't let go and remind me of Love
how it's meant to be. and this voice that keeps telling
me i'm doing...ok. just fine. just live, dear. it says.
just live.

oh!

and a banjo!

just a list of wishes

1. wurlitzer piano (preferably a portable one)
2. harmonica(s)
3. guitar (eventually)
4. many more notebooks (hell i'll settle for scraps of paper)
5. a dinner triangle (i'm not really sure why yet)
6. a nose harp would be fun if i had any idea how to work one (oh wait they have instructional videos on youtube...yep definitely want one! the guy that sold me had one rubber-banded to his face so he could play the ukulele at the same time)
7. any random form of percussion instruments. i'm going to start investigating thrift stores for options.
8. and some simple recording equipment (when i can afford it)

i've got songs pouring out of me into a tiny notebook that may explode if i don't just get to it. if i'm going to make music i'm going to have to start doing it myself. everyone is following their paths to different places and not that we won't continue to make music together when time and space allow, but these are my songs. and i'm ready to sing them.

here are two from yesterday(mostly unfinished...go figure)

untitled

waitin' too long
waitin' too long
you had me waitin' too long

i have a million tumbling
words for you some soft
some jagged as a rock

i have a thousand tiny
bruises on my skin
when i fell for you
i could not stop

untitled2

take flight little bird
i won't ask why
the moss grows thick
on the dark side

please hold dear
the things we learned
through tears and smile
for me when good times
come to mind

i won't forget
i won't forget

no blame for the things unsaid
and for years to come the
norfolk island pine will whisper
keeping secrets better than ourselves

so long
so long
so long, little bird


this guy...

i'm excited.

i will however miss being able to do this everyday...

whirlwind once more

i'm going to make a life for myself among the trees. and the stars. and the birds. partially by choice and partially because i have none. i am overwhelmed. with fear. with excitement. with an incredible sense of gratitude and helplessness. humility and growing up are not lessons that come without strife. but there is joy too. and i'm just trying to breath and pack and fall in love all at the same time. so many changes. so many unexpected gifts in the midst. music, as always, is my solace. so this is for you. at night when there is nothing left to do but wait, harmonies like this make it easier to lay my burdens down.

the civil wars

Dance Me To The End Of Love

John Paul White | MySpace Music Videos

dance me to Your beauty.

in the woods the other day

i found a unicorn.

pick up your crazy heart and try again

here we are again. the striking of a million matches couldn't light a fire under me big enough to get me out of this chair. i'm too tired to be this young. too lonely to be this beautiful. but i've got an aching in my belly for something bigger. and god is telling me bigger is coming for a visit. no return ticket. and i think i'm ready now.

no such thing as a clean getaway

tonight there is only sleepless wrestling and half a pack of cigarettes. and i know i'm gonna figure this out. and i'm gonna let jesus back into the fissures carved into my heart by my own fingernails. but right now i have to let the words on the screen swirl and blur with each involuntary tear drop and try to convince myself that it's ok to hurt this bad even if you don't feel a damn thing. i can't. actually. really. believe that you said that.

------------------------

ix said to me today 'good things happen slow, but great things. great things, caity, sometimes they happen fast.' and i want to believe that maybe that's possible. that maybe tripping over your lies and falling into his arms underneath the stars wasn't the worst thing. all i know is that he woke me up to the things a man should be. and he reminds me of someone i dreamed up once. and it's too soon. and it's complicated. and it's scaring me half mute. but my fingers still work. and my heart still wants to love. and i'm praying that i'm not too broken.

------------------------

no sugar coating this one, boys. i got canned today. i knew it was coming. i've been working for the better part of a decade and i've never come close to getting the boot. not so much as a threat. company policy. hhmmppff. my boss was sad about it. and told me she knew i had big things to do. and she's right. and i think maybe i needed this. and i know it's part of this life long lesson i'm learning about self-worth. and how i'm enough whether i'm stuck to my bedsheets feeling sorry for myself or working myself like a pack mule. so we're buying a van. me and three women who came into my life at just the right time. and we're gonna hit the road. coast to coast with as many stops as we feel like in between. no time limits save the end of summer. one guitar. one ukulele. one harmonica. one accordion. and four girls just trying to take a breath before they dive into whatever is next. i'm imagining it all in my head. starting to live the life i always said i would. laughter. tears. sunsets. wine. and sunburns. music. so much music. and running. and strangers. sleeping bags full of sand. late nights and gas station coffee. singing for pennies and smiling the whole time. i do need this. we all do. and the timing couldn't be more perfect. and i'm gonna write. and dance. and paint. and worship with what's left of my life.

amen.

my tombstone should read...

being a fool for love ain't the worst thing a girl can be.

and if you know me...in parenthesis underneath it will most likely read 'and even though she's not really here, just her hollow bones and rotting flesh, said girl apologizes for her bad grammar.




hahahahahahaha.

everyone tells me i think too much.

#@!%^

damndamndamnit! shit.

what else am i supposed to say? i could probably string together a list of curse words a mile long that would make you wince and make my mother sigh a long sigh. cause i have to hate him after this. or at least forget. no self-respecting woman could...but i'm not a self-respecting woman. i couldn't possibly be if in this one. huge. important area of my life i have not only settled for less, but for neglect.

and i'm afraid because, even still. sitting here, the blood in my veins boiling hot enough to make my cheeks flush, there is a voice in my head that tells me i'm assuming too much. and it's his voice i think, because i know that's what he'll say if he's ever man enough to call. and i'll buckle just a little. and i won't close the door tightly. and he'll sneak back in. and i'll keep caring. and giving. and wasting my time.

band aid brand

i just crinkled my nose and said 'ouch,' for the fifteenth time since waking up this morning. that's how i intend to deal with this. i don't want to cry. i'm not sure i even need to talk about it. whenever my heart hurts and misses what it shouldn't i'll just say 'ouch' out loud. i'll tell people i stubbed my toe. or cut my finger. and nobody will question it, because everybody knows i could hurt myself in a straight jacket. and nobody, including him, will know that what i really mean when i say 'ouch' out loud is that my heart is tearing and being sewn up all at the same time. and that in those moments when the circus of rips and needles is too much, i have to speak for fear that i'll stop breathing.

bruised

wish there was something
i could say or do
i can resist anything
but temptation from you
but i'd rather walk alone
than chase you around
i'd rather fall myself
than let you drag me on down

it wouldn't have worked out any way
and now it's just another lonely day
further along we just may
but for now it's just another lonely day

i'll have a mark twain...on the rocks

when i arrived home on a late night flight from new york city yesterday i was greeted by quite a pleasant surprise. a one alix miranda bollman had taken a hint from one of our favorite authors and prepared for me the perfect coming home present. a steaming hot bubble bath and a hand crafted cocktail. i couldn't stop laughing.

so you understand:

a healthful cocktail
(an 1874 letter to olivia clemens)

farmington avenue, hartford

london, jan 2

livy, my darling, i want you to be sure & remember to have, in the bath-room, when i arrive, a bottle of scotch whiskey, a lemon, some crushed sugar, and a bottle of angostura bitters. ever since i have been in london i have taken in a wine-glass what is called a cock-tail (made with those ingredients,) before breakfast, before dinner, & just before going to bed. it was recommended by the surgeon of the "city of chester" & was a most happy thought. to it i attribute the fact that up to this day my digestion has been wonderful-simply perfect. it remains day after day & week after week as regular as a clock. now my dear, if you will give the order now, to have those things put in the bath-room & left there till i come, they will be there when i arrive. will you? i love to write about arriving-it seems as if it were to be tomorrow. and i love to picture myself ringing the bell, at midnight-then the pause of a second or two-then the turning of the bolt & "who is it?"-then ever so many kisses-then you & i in the bath-room, i drinking my cock-tail & undressing, & you standing by-then to bed, and-everything happy & jolly as it should be. i do love & honor you, my darling.

saml.

my tall glass had everything save the angostura bitters, plus a little water, all in perfect proportion, and it was delicious. i'll have to get my hands on a bottle of the missing ingredient just for accuracy's sake and put it somewhere safe. and whenever i come home from a long trip, or whenever i come home and just need a 'cock-tail,' you can bet i'll be having a mark twain. most likely neck deep in bubbles.

the vanishing silence

the more stoic of my two brothers just smiled in his sleep. and it made me happier in one brief moment than i've been in any single moment in a long time. before he fell asleep i heard much of what he had to say about the things that have been on his heart lately. the things he's been spending time thinking about. and the plans he has for the future. and i am so proud to know him. he makes me dream small dreams that have big implications. he makes me think harder about what i'm doing with my time here. and he wants his family to be a part of it. a part of his simple dream for a marginal society built on the things we so fervently claim to believe in and often fail to apply. there is much we have to learn. much we have left to work out inside ourselves. and these paths before us that we have to walk both separately and together, but it reignites hope in my heart. and in a world where we are robbed of hope daily, this is truly something to be grateful for.

'the real question is that of the power of some people over others. unfortunately, as i have said, i do not think that we can truly prevent this. but we can struggle against it. we can organize on the fringe. we can denounce not merely the abuses of power but power itself.'
taken from 'anarchy and christianity' by jacques ellul

you're not

too good at this anymore girl. you're off your game or off your rocker. or just. plain. off. and what's worse is that you know it. and you watch yourself slip. and you let yourself settle in the dark places where your love is not reciprocated. climb out, kid. dust off the knees of your favorite pair of jeans. and stand. you're taller than this. braver. stronger. or getting there. at least.

--------------------------------

i shouldn't do that. hide 'i love you's.'

fill my lamps with oil

when did i stop dreaming? like really dreaming. like, thinking of six impossible things before breakfast, dreaming? why am i so afraid to get what i need. to say what i mean all the time. i want to ask silly questions without answers. and let my heart love who it does. without torturing myself for what that love is not. be satisfied.

...............................

my irrational anger at the sound of your voice speaks volumes to me. you hurt me without knowing it. you hurt me, because i let you. and you're never any wiser. and i wish i knew what you are thinking when you stare. do you have a library full of words for me too? do you despise your own tongue for it's inability to move? am i beautiful to you? you've said so before. maybe not. perhaps i am convenient. or frustrating. or both. if i let you touch me would you leave? i hope you took me seriously when i said what i said between sips.

will you ever want to give me what you wanted to give me then, ever again?

...............................

i've discovered that it's nearly impossible to be a 24-year-old girl. woman. what?

when that sound

comes
comes in from the outside
it makes me think of souls
flying up into the air
letting go
breaking loose
of their rigid bodies
their tired minds
and it makes me ache
and it makes me happy
and it makes me sink
deep into thought
and wandering dreams
and i know that i am lonely
that i don't fit my own skin
but at least i am aware
of the cocoon around me
and i'm ready to spread my wings

echem..

why does this make me feel slightly vindicated?

count your blessings one by one

'sometimes being a brother is better than being a superhero.'
-marc brown

parts of me are perfect

in the shower today i placed my hands up against the mint green tile on either side of the window. the hot water beat down my back and soaked through my hair. the steam rose in billows as cold air seeped in from under the curtain. i watched what i could see of the backyard fade through the panes as they collected moisture. i don't have what you would call a healthy relationship with my body. there are parts of it i like. parts of it i hide. and parts of it that do an awful lot for little to no appreciation. but today as my eyes wandered back from the window towards ritual i caught a glimpse of the inside of my upper left arm. and the beauty of it stopped me. the skin there is unmarked and without blemish. droplets of water collected on every inch of my arm and my pale skin almost shimmered. i have moments like this occasionally. when i can see the veins in the top of my right foot that meet at a small freckle just below my smallest toe. or my ears when i tuck my now much longer hair behind them. small parts of me that still seem so new. small parts of me that i'm finally allowing myself to call beautiful. i pray i can continue to make peace with my body and her parts. or at least learn to more often acknowledge beauty in myself when i see it.

rain on my window

days like today remind me of the months after you died. they were filled with rain soaked days and thunder storms. the gutters gave way under the weight of the flood and our driveway ran over with the streams it made. our small apartment fell silent on days when the wind blew the hardest and the rain fell relentlessly. i think we both thought of you a lot in those days, but words hurt when there is nothing left to say. it took a six pack and a late night under the awning for us to allow ourselves the tears and to speak your name. the rain fell steadily that day and we watched as the make-shift rivers of water made pools at our feet. we laughed at memories as we stained our cheeks and hugged each other when we couldn't hold ourselves up. i don't know if the rest is real or if i dreamt it or if it is some hodgepodge picture show from another night in the rain, but we kicked off our flip flops and jumped out into the storm. the tears on our cheeks mixed with the rain drops and we danced. steam rose from the pavement and i could feel summer seeping up from the ground. the shower soaked our hair and covered our bare legs with droplets. i felt like i could breath again. and i remember feeling so grateful.

a truce

i didn't mean to start the nonsense of missing you again. but you've always made it hard not to miss...

your laughter. my fingers wrapped in yours. the innocence of warmth and company. a beat in my chest. and i sometimes marvel at how i lucky i am to have kept you.

you and i both know there are others. i can stand in one corner and take them all in. with laughter on my lips and a drink in one hand. unlike them i don't need to put my footprints in yours. i don't mind the dance we do in shadows. and i saw you watching when he asked for my number. i'll wait. i don't mind making new friends while you make up your mind. you always come around. our pride always melts. and when it's time to go. when the music stops. and when everyone goes their separate ways your eyes always find mine. pack up. crank a beat. watch the city lights move to the music. the light bends and swirls where dark alleys hide from it. and when we laugh for no reason i realize i'm in love with this place. with this time in my life. with these streets and your company. i like knowing that when the show is over. and our eyelids are heavy. we'll let ourselves be sweet to one another. and i won't fuss because i know i'll take you in any dose i can get. and nothing about this hurts because even i can see that the way you look at me. is the way i look at you.

it came!

lomography diana f+. i'm looking forward to this.

ok so fine.

i'll acknowledge the new year.

hi 2010. how are you. i guess it's neat that you're here. it's a little weird. but i'm sure we'll get to know each other quickly. i'm not gonna make you any promises or anything. about what a better, healthier, skinnier person i'm going to be. promises get broken. i don't like breaking things. unless i'm doing it on purpose. and then breaking things can be very fun. and freeing. anyhow. what i can tell you is a few things i'm contemplating and you can tell me what good ideas they sound like and we can dream up big plans, but we don't have to set anything in stone and that way neither of us are disappointed. i'm contemplating quitting smoking for my mom's birthday. it would make her happy. and i can't really shower her with gifts like i would if i could. her birthday is tomorrow. that isn't very far away and due to my rash decision making (how typical) i haven't really had time to adjust myself to the mindset of being a non-smoker. i'll probably be cranky. and cough up some pretty gnarly stuff. beyond that i don't currently have the desire to uncover the reasons i started smoking in the first place or held onto it so tightly for this many years. i essentially already know, but i'll get to that. once i get the goo out of my lungs, i'll get more of the goo out of my head. i'm also contemplating getting my papers organized. you know. bank statements. pay stubs. bills. debts. savings. etc. etc. real grown up stuff. i did that once for a little while. and it felt nice. so i'm playing with the idea of making it a habit or something. i bought one of those expanding paper organizing contraptions today. a step. honestly new year, i've got a lot i want to do. and am starting to. i just don't want to feel any pressure. life is so very sweet when i breathe. and let myself be just a little. instead of ripping my hair out over what i'm 'not doing.' i'm getting my camera. lomo diana f+. i'll think about starting one of the million photography projects in my head. i'll most likely continue to aimlessly browse thrift store picture frames for my hidden treasures. pictures of trees. and pictures of people i do not know. a wall of each. trees in my bedroom. strangers in the hall. i love what i have of the collections so far. i might walk more. and stop living in this body i don't recognize. but i would like to do it for me. and not a moment before i'm ready. but i'm ready. and as soon as there aren't four of us to one paycheck, i might stash some away to invest in other worthwhile things. i taught a customer's daughter how to make a mocha and how to make and activate whip cream the other day at work. it was the most enjoyable fifteen minutes of my day. i'm pretty sure i'll finish filling out the application to volunteer over at the alameda point collective. they have an opening for a tutor with some of their elementary aged homeless kids. i miss teaching. i miss learning from my students. they have a community garden. maybe i'll get my hands in the dirt again. that would be really nice. i just want this year to be memorable and not full of worrying about what it isn't. 2010 i want to let you be you. it'd be nice if you could let me be me and we could just go at whatever we're doing with purpose. laugh a lot. be spontaneous. love on people. create. you know. get where we're going, but have fun while we're at it. i just need to come at this lightheartedly. if i take you too seriously. well i might just explode.


a list of other things that i might do this year:

.keep my closet organized*
.give into the tattoo craving
.write a better story for myself
.contribute to other peoples' stories
.go back to school
.two words: road trip(s)
.two more words: smaller jeans
.write my grandparents letters
.keep in touch**
.read read read even more more more
.dream. design. and execute a mural. somewhere. anywhere.
.not beat myself up




*my mom sent me a neat closet organizer thingy. yep.
**i know. i know!

truth

i am very weird.


i am especially weird when i am home alone.


i am home alone right now.