if the opportunity came to be, I would eat a still warm seals liver.

I have acquired two new how-to books, in addition to my Jacques Cousteau sharks book.. One is a guide to building Mongolian Cloud Yurts and the other is a book of how to build an Igloo or ice home.
(i intend to build both).
just you wait. i have great follow through.

Last week:

in the midst of my fevers, I discovered i have the ability to hum in a way that creates a sound like air over a soda pop bottle. Perhaps it was just a fevered fluke or the result of the water in the bath and the steam in the air or the echo chamber qualities of the facilities...nonetheless...it was magical. I sang to myself for a good long time until the water stopped its boil and my skin filled with the wrinkles of an aged one..the underneath of a chantrelle sponged mushroom. i like that. very much.

Its never a waste of time, you can't look it that way...if you do, what's the point in your breaths anyway.

I have this record of whale songs, it sounded like that. like a whale singing to its friend.


Two days ago:

A dear writerly friend, mother, long haired beauty, confidant to me, and beyond all else a confident devout believer : she explained to me that what I may need in my life is to find my holy fool to match my own foolishness. and we will run off to romp in fjords and live in colorful shapeshifter houses, swim in the ice together and build build build until its all built...
i would like that, however my question to her continues to plague...how much do i NEED really in terms of the human condition. people need the human touch, i read about it. in order to exist people have to touch eachother. but how much do I need in terms of the human condition? There is so much to see and to learn. i am in love with ideas and the sound of things. one bell ringing always, somewhere. I am never bored on my own.

Last night:

Four am, a sharks teeth and Tom Courtenay on a tiny buzzing tv screen. let's borrow from the bakery and run off to skegness. i'll bust you free from ruxton towers. oh colin smith, run run run. I have a hard time keeping my eyes shut. I could watch that movie and draw all night, all day, all morning, all night, all day were there enough hours in a day and if i could keep myself from the urge to explore and run around.




I heard about a Llama farm in Wisconsin. Im going.

Your face I can see and it's desperately kind, but what's at the back of your mind...

in a public forum, pennington, i announce it...i miss you to the pit of my well being. 

i havent seen your curls in so long that i can't even imagine which way they spin. i miss evening time at the biltmore apartments,  loretta ave off of olive, just at the bend in the road. maybe we'll eat crackers and drink tea. i will sit by the window and theres a spot for you. we have alot to talk about. 

i still like the alternate version more than the single. 

a mountain range in the midwest.

i have a fever.

things i want, as opposed to what i need.

. an anatomically correct cupie doll in a jar i saw at the european baby store on michigan ave.
. a crows head hair piece hat that i saw at the antque shop yesterday.
. tiny white sneaks.
. a glass of water.
. more minutes in an hour.
. the sun.
. more saturdays of long dog walks in the afternoon with a sweet friend talking about explorers.
. a cleared off porch.
. jacque cousteau books.
. affirmation.

tiny warrior.

i feel secure knowing you are nearby.

with all of my might.

i will be in my mind place. i will be mighty and brave and puff out my chest when i am feeling small. i don't want to miss out.i will continue to tread lightly and sometimes i will not leave a trace, but i will continue to let my thoughts wander.
i wear myself out in wondering.
i have little will power.
i am stubborn.
i cancel myself out often, again and again.

i will build myself into a ship in a bottle. i will let the sail out to catch the wind. i will sail it out to sea. i will allow myself freedom to float. to trust the buoyant nature of properties regardless if i cannot comprehend its principles.
i am daydreaming about red hook with jane. i imagine we are sailors, small olive oyl followers, sitting on stoops, burning our tongues on teas, burrowing into cable knits, arm in arm walking to the shore, kitchen talking until the morning. i could handle it.

i have sweet thoughts in my head.
my favorite songs are bouncing around in me and i can tell the spring is on its way by the way things have shifted. i really cannot stop thinking about carrot beet ginger juice. i have good ideas. i have projects that i can't wait to leap into.

i embrace clarity. i embrace heartache and break that could come to be. i like the fact that soon my spring limbs will sprout. i like that the ground is a sponge. i have good ideas. and i have high hopes. i have tides and swells and breaks and pools.

i have been sleeping again.
paws tucked like a bunny rabbit under my chin. in the front seat of truck, in the last isle of an airplane, sharing space with a best friend, a tuxedo cat and a great grey tiger with a frenchmans sensibilities.

when you drank that cough syrup, i thought of your brave bones.

great warriors.

fevered ferver

**
standing upright (up tight) on its haunches,

changing inside, outside again
a polar cub switches and swaps out.
black beneath a snow white coat
with razor snarls and such kind paws

bounding forward filled up with wonder
shaky hands, shaking hands
lonesome lashes
tiptoeing fullforced ahead embracing great ghosts
grave ghosts, i have them in my pockets
i bring them with me wherever i go



why do i look sad in my eyes?
i feel ok. i feel well. my eyes today are sore. they feel puffy. i slept for most of the night and the day. i feel alright. i thought i might be coming down with a real case, but it seems to have passed away.

i was tired. i was sick. i was tired. i was sick.

i woke to good thoughts. i was in a blanket tunnel. kind of didnt want to get out. it felt nice. i liked it alot.

i will see my friends coming up soon. it will be a blur, but a sweet blur. the kind that keeps you thinking and missing and tiptoeing with a head full of clouds.

i just want to feel things the right way.

*momus posted this picture and i love it. this is part of the story i wrote to inform the photo. i kind of love momus. i like his clogs.