Saturday, December 5, 2015

My Life In 12 Words

I was going to tell you something but now I'm too tired.

Monday, November 16, 2015

Life Is Stranger Than Fiction

so i finished my novel about a woman having a nervous breakdown and had a nervous breakdown.


more later on that.

for now,
it's simplified.
it is:
sex
yoga
no this, no that: caffeine, sugar, self sabotage and self harm in the form of pleasure that is really, yes you guessed it, self sabotage and self harm. 
my children
less Facebook 
kittens
friends
walks
books
housekeeping
writing
working a little
writing even less
eating good clean foods
taking my vitamins

recognizing the child in me that confuses discipline with obedience

and my husband, love of my life, best friend, who has taken care of me in the most intimate ways possibly both physically and emotionally.

and my children. my children. my children.

i continue to be as kind as possible to every person i come in contact with.
i put my heart into my eyes when i look at a person, so they feel love.
i smile.
i listen when i do and do not want to because people need to be heard.
and i pray.



Ian is 19. Dakota is 21. I've been blogging since 2008.


Lola is 13.


Ever is 4. She will be 5 December 2nd.



"Hello, hello, is there anybody out there? Just nod if you can hear me...is there anyone at home?"

Monday, October 12, 2015

Five Kittens


Friday, September 4, 2015

People In Your Neighborhood

image: blog.ted.com


Let's be clear: people in your neighborhood = everyone who shares this planet with us. animal and human.

Austrians and Germans Turn Out To Welcome Refugees

In ScienceDaily, Infant Antibiotic Use Linked To Adult Disease

She's so crayyyyzyyyy: Miley Cyrus ( Dooooo It makes me happy )

I can't wait to read this novel: The Crossing by Andrew Miller

Elissa Schappel interviews Elena Ferrante for Vanity Fair

The More I Know About Breastmilk, The More Amazed I Am by Angela Garbes

You can add your name to the map on The Campaign For The Fair Sentencing of Youth- I did.

Julie Chiefetzz tells her story of working for Amazon, having a baby and getting cancer.

In WSJ, Why Turkey Should Be Called 'Catstantiniople'






Wednesday, September 2, 2015

does that sound like poetic justice

so say peace of mind, early in the morning, when the birds are out and the sky is blue 

so say, 

peace of mind,

early in the morning

where is the dying bird? when the birds all sing
where is the death bird? when the birds all sing

against a yellow sun flower petal
yellow yellow
too bright to see too bright to look away
sink your thumb

against a flower's pollen tufted center, what is the hard sting
that penetrates and hangs, pinned
lazy as fuck

peace of mind, early in the morning, when the birds are out and the sky

and the birds and the sky



____

late at night, lurk.

hard darkness dark diamond flint eyed, the blue spark you see behind the door


if i told you a flower bloomed in a dark room would you trust it
-Kendrick Lamar


Friday, August 28, 2015

Dakota's Band LAW: EP Drops on ITunes Today!!!!



Dakota's band LAW dropped their EP on ITunes today: Mild Lawtism

or you can buy the hard copy at Long Beach Records


I cannot express how proud I am of my son or how happy I am for him. To have a dream since you were two 15 year old kids sitting around, and make it come true at 21 years old, is huge. My first baby, my son! 

And the music?: IT'S SO GOOD


Monday, August 24, 2015

Chop Chop, Haircut



i just cut my hair. ten minutes ago in my bathroom. chop chop.

i'm filled with a restlessness this August. frustrated with my body, which is struggling all month to find balance and energy. constant fatigue, swelling, aches, brain fog. i can feel my hormones struggling. i help with exercise and nutrition but my sleep patterns got tangled in the sheets over the summer... 

i want to go to see the Mayan ruins.

i want to travel. i want to see more.

i like to feel peaceful, but i've long learned to accept the moods that sweep over me. i can't should myself into a state of being. diving into the mood, exploring it like an underwater wreck, bringing up what holds its form in the sunlight and air, this is it. the way through, is through.

chop chop.

Friday, August 14, 2015

People In Your Neighborhood



Gina Frangellino writes to the bone in this captivating essay in Dame: Did My Best Friend Really Know Me?

Dakota's band LAW has merchandise

On making 'black twitter' matter after Ferguson. I have followed DeRay since Ferguson and find him amazing.

Navajo Nation mourning after toxic spill- we should all be mourning, and talking about this.

So much wisdom. I want be like her when I grow up. Dominique Browning in NYT.

You had me at mysterious, ancient pyramid.

Please watch this video: Congressman Bill Posey, on recent vaccine information, as he speaks to Congress.

Allison Stiene in Narratively, speaking out for the dead in Ohio hills.

Wil Wheaton speaks on living with mental illness.

The True Glamour of Clarice Lispector in The New Yorker







Thursday, August 6, 2015

Feeling Myself


a good girl in my tax bracket


we went swimming because it's August hot hot, Mr. Curry grabbed me by the crotch and lifted me up up out of blue, but stopped because erections are not friendly at the public pool unless you want to meet the police.

i love this song.
i love being fiercely alive.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

A Rawther Mundane Conversation


hey!

i'm almost done my novel.

i'm going to have a first draft by end of August.

maybe sooner.

mr. curry is taking the kids and leaving me alone for an entire day in this house with this computer with Agitate My Heart and i'm taking the bright-red beating heart and shaping it closed

heart-shaped closed

i'm going to drink some and when i type the final sentence i'm going to probably cry and then wail and then scream and dance and call mr. curry crying wailing and screaming and dancing and he's going to have that sound his voice gets when he's really proud and excited and he's going to say sweetheart the way he does and i'm going to ask him to leave the kids at my mom's and come home and throw me on the bed and celebrate naked and half-drunk.

-----

i am somewhat tired of blogging because there aren't enough comments. i really miss the comments. i only comment myself maybe five times a week on blogs, but that's five times more than most people in this comment-less climate of blog, where everyone is too busy commenting on opinion pieces like if suburban wives have too much or too little sex, or if oysters should be slurped and is it really appropriate for boys to have testicles after all or should the x go next to the o or really we  need to consider the lobster-

so i have more views now, so many and years ago i thought that's what i wanted, on a chirpy bloggy day when i post at the 'right time' i can get 1000 page views, but three comments

i'd rather have half the page views and ten or twenty comments

however i'm an irregular blogger and it's the consistent ones who get good comment,
yeah, i know that.

-----

dakota's band LAW is becoming a big deal and i'm SO PROUD OF MY SON that it makes my entire heart feel two sizes too large. their second song just came out on Bandcamp and it's called Getting By and they have some insane amount of plays already and Sublime FB shared their song ( Jake the lead singer is Sublime's former, now deceased, son ) and that send it into the stratosphere. they worked so hard on these tracks. dakota and jake have been playing together since dakota was 16! 

here's the song and you can find it on You-Tube also

-----

i am working as a copywriter, content producer AND virtual assistant right now. 

i want a job as a content provider or staff writer at at least 32 hours a week, a job i kick ass at.

-----

i watched these documentaries last night that i loved. one was on Philip Roth ( one of my top five fav. novelists ) and one on Alice Walker. Here they are.

-----

our cat Maybelle is pregnant. we found this out mid surgical attempt to spay her. the vet called and said UM YOUR CAT IS PREGNANT STUPID

-----

our dog has worms of undetermined kind. i am taking a poop sample to the vet tomorrow. meanwhile bathed both animals today and washed all sheets and bedding and the couch covers and vacuumed and cleaned and grocery shopped

------

so it goes



Monday, June 29, 2015

baby angel pierced my heart



oh Ever Elizabeth.

four years old.

you write your name, like this: EvEr

you told me, when pulling off your own shirt for the first time, mommy i am taking my own path. i'm going my own way and you have to let me, ok?

i know i have to let you, but not just yet.

Monday, June 22, 2015

Dakota is 21 Today

Happy Birthday my boy. We celebrated our hearts out yesterday and today is quiet. I am remembering the day you were born. I can never forget.

This is a poem I wrote for Dakota years ago.

you came to stand on my tailbone,
x-ray white heel on an angry nerve cluster
a fist in the whaling arc of rib. i could feel you
in there - this is when i understood alive

understood i was alive. i lay on the couch at night 
full in belly and face, half open books across your skull
erupting from my left side, a bud
erupting from the soil, already breaking open

everything. every night, i cried, and prayed, and wrote
and every night recognized a little more the essential
draw of parenthood: life goes on, life goes on.
i had sank more than halfway down the tunnel, 

i had touched the bottom with my fingertips.
the very existence of you meant
life was not beyond repair. you are nineteen,
and nothing has been good, or safe

i had sank more than halfway down
when my breasts swelled up like tulips in Spring
the nipples rosy and dripping with early rain,
and Mom said ' Do you think you might be pregnant?'

you are nineteen, 
and you will make the best decision of your life
one of us born for the other, 
which one, i do not know.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

The What's Underneath Project: Domino Kirke


I love Jemima Kirke's presence in culture- hence my Jemima Kirke Pinterest page. This is one of her sisters, Domino Kirke, participating in an awesome series called The What's Underneath Project. You can watch them on You-Tube, and they include transgendered, gay and lesbian, various ethnicities of human beings discussing themselves in a very intimate way while removing clothes. At first this conceit annoyed me- I always gravitate against structure and set up- but as I watched these, I saw how it worked. The people being 'interviewed' feel more vulnerable as they remove their clothes, and this works its way inward and allows them to express themselves in a more honest and tender way. It's really beautiful. 

Domino's interview is one of my favorites. Her answers remind me of things I feel and think, as does her seeking. I love her tattoos, too :)

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

I'm So Excited ( & I Just Can't Hide It )

I can't sleep because I'm too excited. I'm excited because I have a poem in Guernica today called Robot Nurse. I'm excited because I have four kids that are all doing really wonderfully in four very different ways. I'm excited because they are alive, and here, and I get to see them and talk to them all the time. I'm excited because I am writing all the time. I'm excited because my novel is one chapter from being first draft done. I'm excited because this is the summer I'll finish the first draft of my novel oh fucking oh! I'm excited because I love my mom and I get to see her all the time. I'm excited because I love my friends and Taymar and her baby Benny are coming to stay with us soon. I'm excited because Dakota turns 21 and next weekend we are having a BBQ for him. I'm excited because the summer in San Diego is so gobsmackingly beautiful. I'm excited because Ever has a trampoline ( thank you, Craigslist ) with netting and a pool and a sandbox and friends that live nearby so she's pretty much 100. I'm excited because I keep finding amazing new music. I'm excited because my ass looks great and I've worked really hard to get it there. I'm excited because I'm reading great books even thought they are often wickedly depressing- right now I'm reading Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee and if I ever, ever wanted to hold onto to any romantic inkling of our beginnings, this book is crushing that out like so many lives and lights were crushed forever in the 1800's. I'm excited because I'm 40 and I love being 40. I'm excited because Ever is so adorable that I often look at her and feel a sense of disbelief that she is real. Her voice is like the kind of voice you imagine the cutest little girl in the world having. I'm excited because Ever is my last baby and she's still SO very little, and I still have so much littleness to soak up with her. I'm excited because Mr. Curry is sexy. I'm excited because when I imagine being alone with him in some romantic location, I still get that butterflies, I could die in your arms and be happy feeling. I really do. I am excited because I'm this close to being in tears. I'm excited because I can feel it in the air tonight. I'm excited because I'm overstimulated, overcaffinated, neurotic and most assuredly going through peri-menopause. I'm excited because the world is so fascinating and beautiful and then I'm desperately horror stricken because it's so awful and wicked and full of suffering. I'm excited because a tiny part of me is still hoping for some kind of magic when we die. I'm excited despite the fact that 98% of me believes that to be false. 

Now I'm anxious again.

Goodnight!

Saturday, June 13, 2015

People In Your Neighborhood





take a seat and read




I could read this all day long, a books' worth. Jenny Diski's End Notes ...

so I kept reading.

Incredible story of one young man's severe brain injury in a car accident and unexpected recovery. It's deeply upsetting to think of people let go who could have made it.

More on the amazing things we do not understand about consciousness- this time in an octopus.

Interview with Jonathan Franzen on his new novel, Purity

A mother writes about her toddler daughter's neurologist and the horrible things that parents of brain injured children too often hear from people who ought to know better.

I had no idea that horses who raced were treated so abominably after they are done racing and breeding. Slaughterhouses.

I read this article Not Be Moved- The Story of the Glass and Other Miracles because I just finished reading Coming of Age in Mississippi by Anne Moody. Lordy. (I was born in Mississippi.)

The more I read about Beau Biden and his family- both his family of origin and his wife and children- the more I felt the great and crushing loss they have all experienced at his death.





Monday, June 8, 2015

The Verbs and the Being


Sometimes parenting in the active, the verb parenting, is the simple best.

Summer encroaches. The sky is thicker. Stewing in the heat and bright eyes of sun.

The greens are greener. They fold in over us in a way that comforts me like the old growing plants and creepers of Mississippi. Southern California comes into its own and blossoms. The light curls over Ever's face. I work on my copywriting assignments on the wooden desk I inherited from my mother years ago, pushed agains the open window. Ever is feet away on the netted trampoline in her Captain America underpants, flinging her body as high into the air as she can, sturdy legs working furiously- those same legs that kicked against my ribcage /trampoline/ for nine bizarre months ( my gynecologist: i've never in all my years seen a baby continue to turn like this in the ninth month )- and the sky mottled overhead, she spreads her arms and legs in the air and her smile is enormous, the smile of God! and Lola is on the patio bricks with a guitar and her hair in her face like the hair in the face of millions of teenagers before her, and she is singing i'm just a teenage dirtbag baby and then she is singing oh mirror in the sky what is love, and then she is singing Nirvana... and her voice is so, so good. I wonder if she is going to really pursue voice, because she has a gift. 

Mr. Curry folds his arms into his armpits and watches the girls. I watch him. 

My living dog, Wolfgang, is freshly bathed. Hosed down and scrubbed clean. He presses against me and his eyes ask me to tell him he is OK. This is the job I do for the last twenty years for all creatures great and small of my family, and so I do it, I tell him, you are OK, Wolfie, you are more than OK. The corners of his mouth turn up, his tongue comes out and his eyes narrow so dramatically I restrain a laugh, I do not want to hurt his feelings, or end his love-eyes.


Sunday, June 7, 2015

Sympathetic Muse

there are truths i'm learning about writing that probably reach into all artistic creations. one is that it is hard to discuss what you do and how and why you do it without saying things like artistic creations.
somehow giving a vocabulary to process can be incredibly pretentious and disgusting. revolting even. artists are easy to mock. we are called 'artists'! 

i'm learning that the things i have to do to protect my creativity are necessary or else it does disappear. it dies. it wilts. it loses its hard on and all i have left are sentences and paragraph structures and ideas that make sense but the gushing blood and guts of the thing have dried. 

i've learned that my creativity is not a part of me like my love for my children is a part of me. meaning, it is not infused in everything i do. i do not make washing dishes creative. i do not decorate my house with abandon. i do not mark my body with tribal call outs. i do not do these things because i have children and because children take an enormous amount of energy to raise, including creative energy. and i only have so much. i am not a font of creative energy. Mr. Curry and I watched Montage of Heck and i was reflecting on how much more interesting my rooms were, when i was a teen. how recklessly i imprinted what i liked and loved. and the reason for this lack now is completely a choice of energy. the amount of time i put into guiding my children through life, into loving them, into providing a safe and constant place to land is the number one portal through which everything i am flows. ' she had nothing left to give ' a refrain we all recognize, and like most cliches it has truth at its birth. i cannot give my children what i do, my health and my marriage what i do, and then also, and also, and also.... there is a period at the end of a sentence that tells the story of what i can do in any given amount of time. and i would choose my children and my husband before any other choice. before my writing, books, money, travel, before all. so that is exactly as i want it to be, and i cannot struggle honestly within those parameters that i would die for.

i did not realize what an astounding choice i was making in relation to my writing in having four children. i knew it would be harder to write, to find time to write. i did not understand that it is not really about the time, or writers block. it is about the observant porous mind and heart that has before taken in the entire world- down to a tiny spot on the side of a suburban house where a chalk outline can still be seen, and the carmel belly of a pregnant spider bobs in the late afternoon breeze above an empty, abandoned container of fish emulsion and a bubble wand- now takes in four shining faces day in and day out, faces that shine so brightly... i still write, and sometimes, i still write the way i desire. 

sometimes the muse appears and the words fly like sparks. but more often these days, i must demand the muse. and because she is a woman with children of her own, she shows up, understanding, tired, a little unfocused, but sympathetic and willing to give it a go.

in order for my novel to exist, i have to exist. in order to exist, i have to take in as much as i give out. and when that is impossible, the writing. 

Saturday, May 30, 2015

People In Your Neighborhood




My first piece on The Mid: I Became A Runner At 40- And You Can, Too Click my name at my bio to read the other two I've written this week!

Very interested in Melissa Broder's work

A feminist roundtable talk with Lena Dunham, Amy Schumer, Gina Rodriguez and more

Read these three wonderful poems by Natalie Eibert in Cosmonauts Avenue

Drowning Really Is Silent


The Only Good Man Is A Self-Hating Man by Navneet Alang in Hazlitt

Vitamin Pill Cuts Skin Cancer Risk- NBC News

The story of one photo of one great white shark.

I've been looking at this magical blog for years. The Road is Home 








Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Review: Grace and Frankie



Grace and Frankie is Netflix’s newest original series, starring Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin. Frankie and Gracie’s husbands ( Sam Waterston and Martin Sheen ) leave the two women for each other, revealing they’ve had an off/on twenty year love affair.  Frankie and Gracie have never been two peas in a pod, but they co-own a beachfront house, an idea their husbands has suggested years ago ‘ for profit sharing. ‘ They move into the house together, and life happens. The real angle of this series? They are all in their early 70’s.

The whole thing could have gone kaput in a pot of lukewarm jokes about gay men and older women, but the writing is sharp and laugh out loud funny, and the characters are not rushed through plotlines where zany togetherness replaces real change. The women are crushed when their husbands leave, and there are moments of true poignancy. In one episode, the women attend the funeral of an old friend, and Jane Fonda’s character Grace is led through a series of conversations and confrontations. She ends up standing alone in the crowd, bewildered and scared look on her face as she realizes how much has been stripped from her in the wake of her husband’s betrayal.

Jane Fonda plays Grace with a touching vulnerability shimmering below the surface of her tightly constricted rules- she hasn’t had ice cream in nine years. Grace is the straight man to Lily Tomlin’s adorable, loveable Frankie who adopted two boys and named them Coyote and Nwabudike ‘ Bud ‘  and who in her distress immediately after being told of the news of her husband’s abandonment, smokes peyote and takes muscle relaxants on the beach, in order to take a spiritual journey. ‘ Prepare yourself, ‘ she tells Grace, who joins her on the beach and guzzles the peyote drink, believing it to be tea, ‘ for some light vomiting followed by life altering revelations. ‘ When Grace begins complaining, Frankie coos: ‘ Your anger is frightening the sand. ‘

Frankie’s husband Sol ( Sam Watertson ) and Grace’s husband Robert ( Martin Sheen ) are interesting and engaging in their own right. I’m a huge fan of both actors, who do a lovely job of illuminating why these two men were willing to give up so much to be together. As the show moves forward more is revealed about their long affair and it becomes obvious that real romantic love was not in the original marriages for any of these four. Frankie and Sol were best friends, though, and they suffer the worst pain at the overnight severing of the life they knew, all of it’s routines, rituals and comforts ripped away. One episode in particular, ‘ The Spelling Bee’ revolves around Frankie and Sol’s attempts to stay connected while slowly and painfully realizing they cannot.

All of the secondary characters add something bright to the ensemble- Robert and Grace’s daughter Brianna ( played by June Raphael ) is a stand out, sharp as hell, funny and tough, her blue eyes zing as she delivers one liners.  Brooklyn Decker plays Briana’s sister convincingly a little drowned in her life, spacey and yet focused. ‘OK no problem, ‘ she tells her mom as she rushes through a list of must-do’s,  ‘ I’m just going to feed the dog and do my kegels in the car.’

In the end it is Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda who are the successful heart of this show. I can’t think of another show about women in their 70’s that treated them as true invidual women in the thick of life without the constant focus on age- Golden Girls was hilarious and ground breaking, but the entire premise was a one liner ‘ look at the old lady being funny ‘ vibe, whereas Grace and Frankie ask us to see these women as they are- complicated, still seeking, learning, sometimes on the cutting edge of life naturally and easily ( as when Frankie teaches Grace about making homeade, organic lube from ‘the best organic tubers!’ ) sometimes hilariously fumbling their way through the modern world ( Frankie again, buying a computer and setting up a Twitter account, which you can visit now at twitter.com/suckitaynrand thanks to the crafty Social Media crew at Netflix ) Frankie’s observations on Twitter are spot on: ‘ Why watch alone when I can share the entire experience with millions of strangers!? ‘


Unlike CBS’s failed remake of ‘ Odd Couple ‘ Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin’s friendship in Grace and Frankie are an odd couple worth watching.


Sunday, May 24, 2015

The Best Daddy's Take Phone Calls

Ever calls Mr. Curry on the phone: ' Daddy? '

Mr. Curry: ' Ever sweetie, hi, what are you doing? '

Ever: ' Well I have poop in my vagina and Mommy said she'd wipe gently but I still won't let her get it out and I don't want her to. '

Mr. Curry: ' Sweetie that's not good for your vagina, you have to let Mommy get that out, OK? '

Ever: ' But I really just don't like it Daddy. '

Mr. Curry: ' I know sweetie you're OK, let Mommy take care of you. '

Ever: ' But Daddy I don't like it. But Mommy says she's gentle but I still don't like getting this poopy out of my vagina. '

Mr. Curry: ' OK sweetie, that's not good in there so let Mommy get it out, you're OK honey, all right? '

Ever: ' OK Daddy. '

Mr. Curry: ' I love you Ever. '

Ever: ' I love you Daddy. '

Friday, May 22, 2015

People In Your Neighborhood




take a seat and read!



Adrian McDonald's photos of Jamaican childhood are pure magic.

I often find these kinds of 'love your body' things unconvincing. But not this one. I'm watching with Lola.

Loving this poem by Morgan Parker: ALL THEY WANT IS MY MONEY MY PUSSY MY BLOOD

Like many people around the globe I have a fascination with the excavated site at Pompeii. Therefore, I found this fascinating.

Karrie Higgens is one of the top three most gifted writers I've come across on the internet, someone who isn't well known but whose talent and craft is undeniable. Read on the 35th anniversary of my suicide attempt

If you think your gallbladder is going bad, please read this: It Ain't Your Gallbladder

Oh I got that brain orgasmy feeling reading this because 1. it's about one of my top five favorite novels ever, Lolita, and 2. the intelligence and skill of the writer weaving backstory. Fascinating, and deeply sad. The Real Lolita, by Sarah Weinman

I stumbled across this old interview with Elizabeth Gilbert in The Rumpus.

I found this Justin Bieber car karaoke with James Cordon super entertaining. The Rubix Cube thing- who knew? ( and don't say who cares, you snark )





Thursday, May 21, 2015

I Don't Know

I don't understand this time of my life, what am I doing. It may strike you as remarkable that this is the first time in my life since the birth of Dakota that I have felt this way. At 19, I found the purpose of my life- loving him. Being a mother. You may wonder how, with four children, two at home, how is this different?

I don't know. 

I am different. Me. Not the circumstances. Not the love, the devotion, the loyalty. And my life is bigger, richer and more interesting in many ways, than it was for all those years. So why don't I feel enriched?

I don't know.

So if I am to write a list of things I do not know, we will be here for pages, hundreds of thousands of characters of Times New Roman. The things I do know comprise a short, essential list. 

I want to go home. I want to sit in a field of berries with my mouth stained, a touch of sunburn across my brow, squinting unattractively, watching my kids do what they do. I want to hear the drip of water from the trees after it rains. I want the wind in the bushes, rattling around like an old lady who lost her glasses: Ms. Whatsit, for example. I want to step back into my place in the river of ancestoral time, to feel the gravitational pull of the earth- does space scare you? It scares me.Where am I?

I don't know.

I feel lost. I only feel grounded when I'm in the tangle of my children in bed at night, their legs on my legs, or in Mr. Curry's arms, or when he holds my hand. Alone, I tend to hold my arms around myself, like I did in high school. Like I might fly apart, but very, very quietly... no one would even notice. They would still see me as here because how many people actually SEE YOU when they look at you?

I don't know.




Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Put Words In My Mouth


Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Everkins - Kenny - Kinny-Kins




she's four and she always brings to mind the words life force
i always wanted a child with freckles
i always wanted a little girl with long waves of hair
i always wanted a baby with an oversized head and great big brains
i always wanted a little girl with an actual twinkle in her eye
i always wanted a daughter with a smile made from stardust and puppies and magic
i always wanted a kid with three nicknames
i always wanted an unstoppable energy force that brings to mind fast forward video footage of flowers unfolding from bud
i didn't know i did, but now it's so obvious.
that's love.

Monday, May 18, 2015

Saturday, May 16, 2015

People In Your Neighborhood


Creative Compulsive Disorder & Remembering Zina Nicole Lahr from Stormy Pyeatte on Vimeo.

Isabella Rossellini on who cares about aging. I'm becoming compulsive with collecting the quotes and ideas of women who instead of being honest about how aging is hard for women are really focused on how it's not. On how much more there is. We need their voices and their attitudes.


I told you about a friend's friend whose little girl drowned recently. This little girl, Kitty, was born in 2010, same as Ever. This is a remembrance of her with a beautiful poem. It made me cry hard. I think the first comment afterward is a little genius.


I really enjoyed this essay by Angela Flournoy on the recovery of her father and Detroit.


I can't wait to see this anime movie: Wolf Children

This short story on a moment in time on 9-11 is like glass in your hand: immediate and unforgettably cutting. September, by Anna Kovatcheva 


How the use of antibiotics in infancy is tied to illness in adulthood. Another example of the many I link here of the absolute importance of our guts to our entire health.

The combination of music, film and writing the NYT is using is brilliant. I could not pull myself away from this story.

Art is life.


Is Wifi Making Your Child Ill? There's a lot of conflicting opinions going around the scientific community, but I want to stay aware and do what I can to protect myself and my family.

Saul Bellow is an important author to me. My dad had his paperbacks and as a kid I read through them, often bewildered and lost, but totally compelled.









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