a decision

...has been made

This will be the last post.
It has been a great pleasure sharing with you all.
Susandia has been my unconditional companion and has relatively kept me sane, if not made me crazier at times, but all is interchangeable in these terms.



I miss her already...

Nowhere Feather

Dreaming that I awake on my parents bed.
I lay, my eye catches the ceiling vent; a feather falls throught it. It floats down, beautifully with a sway and i watch it with a smile. my finger catches it, feeling its delicacy, its peculiar engineering.
A slight pause...enjoying..examining..
I look up for more Nowhere Feathers. Two more fall. I welcome them, leaning up to catch them. Like a snow I'd never felt, they kiss my face. my soft smile to a happy giggle.
Faster... the flurry of Nowhere Feathers pushing themselves out of the vent. Swimming in the bed of softness, in puddle of "leaves" my body stretching capturing them all. My joyous laughter as my palms grip at them.
a flicker of reality pricks at my fingertip when i dont feel the bed under me.
...
Searching, digging, nothing. Just feathers. The panic of the realization.. A sudden short breath as i watch them stuff past the vent. My small body suddenly seeming what it truely is, small, fragile and without escape. With suffocating resistance i stand, waste deep, climbing the very mountain. My fingers tipping the vents latch.. reaching, stretching as the Nowhere Feathers stick at my lips.
Where are they all coming from.. stop.
my mind pleads!

i wake up in a panic as my sister comes to my rescue.

beautiful life vs stubborn soul

as he let me into his home, as the notes and the keys played behind me.
as my feet float across his wooden floors i hear his words "i would keep nothing from you".
Like a dream i move, a slight fantasy, ending with the leaves so pleasant.

i should have told him what it all meant,
but then it wouldn't be mine.
it wouldn't be me.

inspired

if it doesnt take designing a chicken coop to inspire me, im not sure what will.
A client, an animal friendly client, has asked us to design a chicken coop. Having raised chicekens as a kid, as a family, I can recall the annoyances that can be associated with chicken shit and catching one for the butcher block :).
SO attacking this "project" with a practical sense is exciting.
not to mention the fact that this guy lives in the city! and i think i can really get some other friends to invest in their own free range hen-house. :)

Furthermore, its kind of given me a mission statement (that ive been struggling with) for MIRA. Not the coop neccessarily, but the begining of a vision.

the lease

We've lived our lives...lived our marraige by the terms of a leases and Education.
Lease 1, One Year: GOAL - party till we drop. no posessions, no bills. Work, do drugs and party.
Lease 2, One Year: GOAL - buy furniture, go back to school and quit drugs.
Lease 3, Five Years: GOAL - Remodel House we bought, finish bachelor of architecture,
Lease 4, Two Years: GOAL - Receive a Masters Degree
Lease 5, One Year: GOAL - Gain field and work experience, enjoy the city.
Lease 6, Non-Existant: And this is where the problem occurs. Without a commitment to stay, we have the option to leave. I dont do well with that.

I need a deadline, a goal, a decision.

PetNames

Besides the first dog I can remember, I was the one given the task of naming our pets.
CHINA- a fluffy white puppy given to us by my Aunt Anita was "put out of her misery by shot gun" after exuberantly following my brother as he cleaned the garage. A child's car seat hooked to wall fell on her head. It was not pleasant.
IVY- Albino Ferret that made it through our house burning down, finding him in the old chicken coop in the back. Later he escaped from our new house and was mistaken for a rat in the neighborhood and beaten with a baseball bat. OH! but he survived, without a tail so his balance was always slightly off thereafter.
STOLI- First Pit Bull we owned. He was great but was stolen one night. I think my dad's shot gun to scare the thieves off kind of assisted in the dog running towards them more.
CLEO- My first pet tree frog. I even enjoyed gathering crickets from the back alleys of large buildings for her. Me accidentally killing her under a pile of shoes was a bit more hurtful I'd like to admit a frog would cause.
SKILLET- The last dog. Cause my brother used to say home-skillet alot. and i got uncreative and uninterested at the age of 19.

Now we own a cat named Brain which I think Todd did for us. So I think i have relinquished that responsibility. :)

OH! but not a petname.. but i am proud to have chosen my nephews name most recently.
Drum Roll Please... Lucas Alexander Cortez. Well I cant take credit for the last name. If i say so myself, that's a regal name indeed.

-Susandia was named after her father's ex-girlfriend.

perfect

the smell of burning hair is always so distinct.

that's all i have to say about that.

sunny satisfaction

"there you are..." said the LostBoy to Peter Pan.

I could have smiled straight at the sun today with the same welcome...
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rewind [dreamy feelings]

Im not who i used to be, i told him
without apology and without remorse
as he looked at me with begging eyes
for my reversal, for my rewind

a decade of time we celebrate
almost in a daze of liquid love
in a state of blurry situations
with our stroking hair familiar

each pass a line in my geography
cupped by hands and wrapped by legs
a breathless gasp deleting fog
as i return to true consciousness

waves

they come in slow and with beauty
then with the taste of lemon rinds.
smacking my tongue,
a dry sock filled with wet sand
heavy
uncomfortable
and well deserved

resolution

i'll write them, so hopefully ill keep them :)

1. go down to working a true 8 hour work-day (including lunch)
2. save up for a trip to Electic Picnic. inspired by miss hannigan :)


id make a resolution to lose weight and get fit and all that..but this year, ill just consider that DONE by action.

holiday's last days

as the holiday season officaly comes to an end and i never wrote a proper end of year/new year entry, i'll simply recall the most recent brilliant memory i will hold dear for years to come.
My dear nichole took her first dance with her new husband.
"it is lovely...Love" her mother said, as we both stood watching. she embraced me in a way that her daughter had so many times. Such truth, love and care it held.
her contagious warmth reached my soul as i remembered what inner-peace felt like.

crystal-clear inner-peace... cheers to that for 2010.

my solstice

i dont take anti-depressants. and the sun isn't shining.. and the vacation i need seems a season away (oh, because it is :)

the realization that it can easily be labeled as "the winter blues" make me angry.
but knowing my spring and summer will return is definately something to look forward to.

i do miss three summer seasons in texas though.

signs

So after the cheer, it seems this year ended with a whole new set of rules.

This is a ranting "journal" type post, which hints that I may be able to go back to my original ways of expression, journals, sketching, painting. I hope so, cause Im getting sick of my ways these days.

WE all have bad days. bad weeks. those arent truely the thigns that get us (me) down. Its when our light stops shining for a moment.. it takes so much longer for it to get lit again. the older i get, the harder it is. we all know this. I hate self-pity.
shut up and buck up!
but i stand here with that familiar stick in my hand and want to beat the shit out of me. because then id know id be licking the mud i lay on.. with nowhere else to go but up.
so hurry the fuck up and start swinging, cause im ready to fight back.

love it.. gotta have it..

i love the sting and i love the burn
and hot damn i love that feel
the way it tickles up my spine
to my shoulder blades
to my brows that curl

the creep of it all..
how could i not fall in love!
with that untouchable feeling
that IS
indeed
touched so well

as noted:

Planet of the Apes on "infinite regression".. taken and exchanged by Quantic.
Definately a Top Ten, the movies, not the tune :).

the non-unique argument

I've made it plenty.. the over-bloggers, the over self-indulgences, the self-promotions for inadequacies that have taken over our lives. I am one of them. I started this blog because I couldn't write in my diary/journal anymore. My writer's block to my own self conscious.
The argument is, of me and all others, who cares what we think? I am not special. I am not wise.
I talk to myself...as if life is something more than us talking to ourselves.
i am not special says me to me, and to the person next to me until inifinite regression takes over and i speak to myself face to face, reassuring the fact that i live in all of you and you live in all of me.

merry christmas

here we go!

grab your stuff
pack your bags
get your pretty feet a'movin'

cause im on a roll!
rollin and scrollin
uhuh
rollin and scrollin
and killing time for you huh

*note: susandia is temporarily out of service. maintanence crews may sprinkle fairy dust causing unstable biproducts.
Please do not respond to this notice... this is an automated response.

jungle blood london

with bouncing knee and curled lip
strobed lights, i smile to the sky
blinded and happy

oh sweet caroline, mix me into tantric grin

Disclaimer:

In my search for me i found you
so, i log less and blog less..
my theraputic less...
less has taken over.

and so much more it is.

needless drinks with neccessary gatherings

what else are the holidays about.
love
giving
and of course, reaping the benefits of giving :)

happy holidays.

Life Appreciation 101

we sunk into the couch together
the near death
that slumber sleep awake
blowing minds
tumbling bodies
we fall together
and then apart...
and back together...

her moans a whisper
"this is too much"
and with our warm enbrace
we return from life deprivation

not my normal post, but...

three things...
1. DMT rocks!
2. on a cancer tangent: cheers to my mother's well being.. all cemo is DONE! :)
3. this makes me feel "OK" about all the to-go containers i throw away weekly... "we are here to fuck shit up" ha!

iron-clad

you're so iron-clad... always easy-breezy.
i smiled and responded, "of course"

there is no other way to be i thought to myself
but then i recalled a few things

i have lost my ground at times.
i have spoken to soon, or too late, at times. or not spoken at all.
i have felt too much too soon at times
and some thoughts have surpassed logic, intelligence and good-will.

BUT i don't make mistakes.. only decisions, and oh-so thankful i am for those.

Yellow Haze

I gots nothin...so ill post an accidental image that my phone decided to take.
Hence the argument that there are no real accidents.
That's my argument...
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

spoons of sugar

not like the ones forced at my mouth to stop my anemic shakes or car-sick nauseating spells.
Hmm, but now that we're on the subject, i suddenly feel the need for story telling.

I was about 5 years old, summering in Mexico, when i first realized i didn't like to be in things that moved too fast, particularly, in a circular motion.
The wretched thing was part of a traveling carnival next to my grandmothers house. It was called Platillos Voladores (flying saucers). I sat, waiting, happy, excited, as the mechanical spins began. Regardless of the cool mountain valley air, sweating palms and neck began to come over me. I took a breath holding onto my cousin and the bar on my lap.
Faster it went. Holding my breath i clenched harder, mistaken for fear, as my first cold sweat and nausea consumed me. looking down at me, realizing, she took my head to her chest covering my eyes, saying that would make it better, only seeming to make it worse. Repeating to myself, "this is fun... this is fun... supposed to be fun..."
It seemed like eternity, the slowing down , the oh-so long slowing down of my saucer. looking at the bar to lift. waiting. breathing short. sweating cold.
We quickly walked home, embarrassed of getting sick. my grandmother took one look at my pale face to nearly yank my cousin's arm out of her socket, then dragging me to the kitchen.
I remember being picked up and plopped on the stool my grandfather had made me. I was fed a spoonful of sugar followed by a bottled joya.

Under other circumstances this dinner would have been a great start to my evening :)

slowing down

to a screeching hault
with my heart at my sleeve
and my keys at your feet
i stand bare before you

finally: "Unlocked"

I watched this short film outside, at a park , before Hair was about to begin. My friends weren't impressed by it, but it stuck with me. And I finally, 2 years later, found it, only by LINK.

more from Daryl Wein.

Untitled

By a mile the wind sails

By a league the ocean wails

Until into a river

Until into a stream

Beyond the raindrops reach

Below the mud so deep



It went...

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