touch

last night i sat cross-legged on the floor of the kids' room and played green alligators. the things i noticed most were the way my children visualize and translate the world; how they define it.

the object of the game is rather basic. you have three cards, each one has a picture of something (a birthday cake, a seashell, a computer) and then there are the "action" cards which are green alligators doing things (ballet dancing, golf, ice skating). you have to give clues to what the pictures are in order for the other players to try and guess.

a simple game, but the enjoyable part, at least to me, is seeing the creative mind work and the way expression plays such a part in the way we communicate.

i suppose it is what is sorely lacking in email, or blogs, as a main source of communication - there is so much of the human experience that goes missing. the spark in someone's eyes, the way they gesture with their hands, the quirky looks we all have that make up part of who we are, the gentle touch of a hand.

i know i'm a very physical person, i am free with hugs and arms wrapped around, i like to show my affection and emotion with touch. and sometimes, the lack of it when so many of those people i consider friends are miles away, makes me feel lonely, and often misunderstood.

i like knowing how someone's laugh sounds, how they look right before they smile, and how their voice changes when they are being genuine, or snarky, or flat out silly. and last night i got a pretty good dose of that in my children. i got to sit there and take in the way their individual voices layer over each other, how a laugh is contagious, and how unique each one of their looks and tells are when they are trying to say something, or trying to hide a detail.

just got me thinking.

welcome june

breck road lover ~ the libertines

"we walk the streets where she gets her name."

* max turned four this weekend and today we celebrated it at the park. i played in the sand with toys kate brought as part of his gift, and was later gifted myself with flower necklaces and crowns she made that brought back a lovely memory. unfortunately, my pale skin did not take to all that sitting in the sun too well and i am badly burned, and a bit sick feeling from it. but, max had a blast. watching him with multi-colors of frosting on his face, laughing so hard that he nearly fell over, playing with his new trains, and running around with a real sense of glee on his face made me immeasurably happy. my best friend, family and all of our children, so much bliss that brings to me. all in all, it was a beautiful afternoon.

* it is after ten at night and i want a cup of coffee desperately. yeah. sunday night and a desire like that? we all have our self-destructive tendencies, i suppose. tonight i will not partake in it, though, as i have enough struggles lately sleeping at all.

* i hate when i realize that even though i'm almost 40 years old, and have a pretty decent amount of accomplishments i'm proud of, i still end up feeling not good enough so much of the time. i wish i knew a way to believe in myself more, and to hang on to the good things said instead of internalizing so much of the criticisms and negative words. suppose this goes back to something i was musing on a few days ago, at why it is so hard to just be nice, to say kind words, to not cut each other (and ourselves) down so much. is it because we all are walking around this world feeling less than, too? so, we lash out at each other, or at ourselves, just to either feel better, or not so alone in that level of insecurity? i don't know. maybe this comes from spending a significant part of my day with my mother who seems to have mastered the art of criticism, so much so that my brother and i have learned to be self-deprecating and mocking to such a degree we have a hard time speaking aloud genuinely good feelings. or perhaps it is just that i allow myself to take that kind of thing, over and over again. either way, i would honestly rather be nice, and treated that way, too. love how you want to be loved.

* i was listening to one of the alphabet mixes i used to make this morning while cleaning the kitchen. i miss making those, as well as recently missing the music theme posts i used to write. who knows, maybe one of these days they will make a comeback.

* a trip to the temporary library took place yesterday (our main one is being rebuilt). max is starting to take an interest in books, inspired by his starting school, i believe. he is the first child i've ever had who did not embrace reading from the start, so it was especially happy-making for me to see him getting excited about books. he chose three thomas the train books, his current obsession, and even had the children's librarian helping him locate them. reading them with him last night, and learning morea about the thomas plot and back stories, i am realizing that the island of sodor is quite the land of drama. seriously, those trains just look harmless with their google-eyes and smiles, they are really a intricate web of intrigue, rivalry, and struggles. who knew.

* tomorrow is monday, i am so not ready for that reality yet. maybe that is why i want the coffee.

you're my playground love

some days when my head is spinning with worries, and i forget how it feels to breathe, i look to the music and other's eyes to bring me back to a state of calm. i am a sucker for imagery matched up with song, anyone who reads this space is most likely well aware of this. there is something so interconnected in my mind, and heart, that weaves together a photograph or a painting with the lyrical refrains and melodies.

i miss the barefoot simplicity of my younger years.

but some afternoons i grab the babies and we run off to play in the park. the slides are my favorite, and i still climb up into them and let my body slip. i struggle with control issues that dictate many of my life choices, but in that moment of sliding i allow myself to free fall. i remember the appeal of parks and playgrounds, we all had some magnet pull to them, no matter how we were dressed, or where we had been.

how many times did we climb to the top in dresses, not caring at all?

playground love ~ air (from the film the virgin suicides)
& the video

my mother would braid daisies in my hair, but only that one summer when she had allowed me to grow my hair long. he used to weave together a crown of daisies for me, i remember. i always figured i'd wear them in place of a veil when i married, though i've married twice with no flowers anywhere. suppose it isn't the same, they were never weddings, not the way a girl dreams them to be. perhaps it was all just meant to stay that way, memories and the wishes of young love.

i have not given up on dreaming, though.

polaroids remind me of my childhood, of aunt annette and her shoebox collection. she kept it under her bed, pushed to the back and flush with the wall. some were blurry, others were taken at uncomfortable angles. but there were a few that told stories in their particular play at shadows and light. i never found out who took them, whether it was her, or if these were stolen/found images. i know my family history is fraught with petty thievery.

i like to believe she took them, and hid the camera somewhere i never discovered. her secret mystery.

if you close the door, you'll never have to see the day again

1* this space has changed a bit in recent days. the volume of content reduced, and the creativity along with it. this is due solely to a work of fiction that i am writing, or as i like to say, is taking me over. the past themes may return eventually, but for now this is where mostly music that is moving me will reside. i need to be lost in my writing for awhile, nothing personal.

2* the five songs that my itunes tells me i've been playing most often (incessantly) lately:

norwegian wood (this bird has flown) ~ the beatles
tonight the streets are ours ~ richard hawley
say yes ~ elliott smith
panic attack ~ dirty pretty things
breck road lover ~ the libertines

3* something that has been nagging at me recently, especially the last few days. when a decision is made to stop talking to someone, to just not respond, or to talk to them but put up obvious signs that you are upset and/or unhappy with the person, why do that? why not just come out and say "hey, you did something that is bothering me", or "i'm not sure i can talk to you right now", or even a "it isn't you, it's me" (yeah, i know, i hate that one, too). but honestly, it is the kinder thing to do. and, in the end, it will help all parties involved understand.

i would rather have someone tell me to fuck off then be ignored, or treated strangely, any fucking day.

4* oh my stars, how i love a keen cover song - after hours (the velvet underground cover) ~ rilo kiley

5* ask me something, anything really, and i will weave it into a post (music-included).

five fun facts (and two questions)

keep art alive; art by sas christian

* i dyed my hair the same color as the girl in the painting above, though my hair is much longer (for now).

* i watched 'playing by heart' last night and realized that it had been quite some time since i'd seen it last; most notably because i no longer relate to joan, but found myself feeling an uncanny affinity to meredith. also, the inclusion of goodnight moon brings me to the kind of tears that are better described as sobs, every single time.

* december is upon us, and is here for some of us. i am a bit crazy about this time of year, but not for all the commercialism and everything revolves about money and marketing kind of ways. i'm a sucker for twinkle lights, decorated houses, holiday specials, advent calendars with chocolate inside, good christmas music, and the smell of sugar cookies and hot cider.

this brings up a question for all of you, in two-fold: what is your favorite holiday film and/or special? and, what is your favorite christmas song, and who sings/performs it?

* it has been raining all night here. the kids and i went out in it to run an errand and julia was trying to get max to sing "i'm singing in the rain", but he said "no, not singing, it's christmas rain." and then he did threw the rocker hands. it was one of those moments i'll always remember.

* i had peruvian food for the first time this afternoon. it was amazing.

what are five things about you today/tonight?

feathers on my breath

big sur, california

the first five songs of the day:

dancing queen ~ abba
st. pauli ~ art brut
one more time (daft punk cover)/my vien ilin (live) ~ ted leo
no birds today ~ cowboy junkies
new york is a woman ~ suzanne vega

apparently my itunes hates me, or went off and took a holiday without me. when i turned on the laptop this morning and opened up itunes she was completely empty. so, i have had to re-load all my folders of music. on the plus side, all those annoying duplicate songs are now not there. also, my itunes seems to have an early morning abba thing going. no matter how i sort my music, as soon as i hit shuffle and play an abba song starts it all up. not the same one, either; she varies with her abba-love.

i have been (re)reading the unbearable lightness of being recently. the last time i read it i was eighteen, and it astounds me how differently the book feels to me now that i'm reading it, some twenty years later. it is one of those books that i want to take in slowly, contemplate all the meanings and layers, and write in the margins. i am reminded of my favorite english proffessor, and how she encouraged us to keep composition books full of our reactions on anything we read; be it a classic piece of literature, a newspaper article, or a comic book. this article is quite keen, and makes me want to grab a copy of big sur and take the drive. visit the nepenthe, the henry miller museum, and talk to the ocean for a bit.

i've also had my mind on san francisco lately. i cannot believe how long it has been since i've been there, and how much i miss it. there was a time when i was younger, and jules was a baby, that i almost moved there. sometimes i think it may be where i end up, after jules has graduated high school and settled into college. i miss the bay area.

today is shoshana's birthday. she is such an incredible soul, full of poetry, wit and genuine kindness. i miss her quite a bit, and often. i was thinking today at how long we've known each other, and how we've both changed and grown in many ways, and how we are the same in other ways. i hope she has an incredible day, and a fantastic new year in her life.

best show on television this summer, besides californication, has been live at abbey road. seriously, the music has been so incredible that i have even been impressed with bands and artists i normally would not listen to. i posted a video from the show, with damien rice, a week or so ago; i will post another incredible one, later today.

a much needed day off today, though i have been checking work email. it was nice to be able to drop the kids off this morning without the typical rushing around and barely breathing ferver. veronica seems to love school, wakes up excited and anxious to get there. at breakfast, at the school, they had breakfast pizza and fruit. the pizza made me smile as it reminded me of post-party cold pizza mornings, especially when i first lived on my own.

kerry, yo gabba gabba is on the television right now. this is the most surreal and hypnotic children's show i have seen in a very long time. it reminds me of a post-modern sid and marty kroft show. max sure seems to love it.

blue songs on a grey day

something about hearing an abba song first thing in the morning makes me inexplicably happy, as does bob dylan following it with it's all over now, baby blue. sometimes the shuffle feature, and a cup of coffee, is enough to get me by. bob is singing tangled up in blue now. this is one of those songs that hits deep beneath the surface, a story that is not mine, but still resonates somehow. i would put it up there with famous blue raincoat as my storytelling musical favorites.

i would love to pen a story about jane. perhaps she met up with bob on the road, or in the topless bar; perhaps he wore a raincoat and gave her a rose before he left her that rainy morning. the rose, she pressed it between the pages of a well-worn copy of on the road, the one she tucked in every bag she took with her everywhere. it has a hole at the bottom, a seam that tore open on a bus up the coast, she patched it up with crimson thread.

now i wonder if there is a blue theme to my day. the sky outside the office window looks grey and overcast, one of those mornings that seem so bleak, but that everyone assures each other will burn off by the afternoon. i just sorted a playlist by the word blue. do you ever do that? pick a word and see what it brings? the blue songs bring to mind blue characters, blue from desert blue, blue from old school and how that became my younger brother's nickname when he went to university because he was older than his roommates. perhaps jane goes by the name azure when she dances at the topless place, a connection back to that blue raincoat, the last glimpse of him that she caught as the bus pulled away.

and this, my friends, is how my mind works.

it's all over now, baby blue ~ bob dylan

now isn't it obvious

keep art alive; art by caia koopman

somedays it amazes me how quickly the time passes, how far i have already traveled in my life, and yet, how often adolescent, or naive, i feel. i still play music far too loud in the car, and i sing along; my own little concert on wheels as i roll along the 101 freeway. i still feel confused by love, and boys, and the dynamics between finding someone who fits with who you are, and actually taking the steps of being with them. on the flipside, i feel that i have volumes of life behind me, and novels worth of things to say about all of it. i feel a chaotic whirlwind of knowing and confusion, desire and regret, doubt and belief; and the unmistakeable pull of some invisible internal cord that whispers and sings to me, reminding me that i am ready for more.

last night i stood in my kitchen, steadying myself against the kitchen counter, chopping up various summer fruits that i'd gathered up from my favorite neighborhood produce market. i have been struggling with dizziness all week, a shaky feeling that comes and goes more frequently the last few days, most often when i try to concentrate on anything. at first, i thought it was anxiety. i have certainly had my share of it lately, and i am in this state of mind where i feel overwhelmed, and that everything is in constant disarray. i do not do well when everything seems disjointed and messy; it leaves me feeling out of breath, frustrated, and unhinged. i have lived with anxiety before, though, and this feels different. my head is spinning, as if i have had that one drink too many, when everything keeps moving even when you stop and close your eyes. i lay awake at night feeling my head swirl, and listening to the pounding of my heart, counting the beats, questioning whether they are faster than before.

perhaps this is a breakdown. today i cannot seem to stop crying, and my temper was lit up like fucking disneyland fireworks. i know i need to find some balance, that i have been working too many hours and not allowing myself any time for life. i also know that i have hidden in that, a bit. my life feels so contradicting and overwhelming that i am not sure what the solutions look like anymore. i feel like i need a life assistant to come in and help me sort out things; someone to feng shui my everything, or at least to hold my hand while i cry some more. i feel like having an all-out sulk on the floor, completely adolescent style angst and self-indulgent pout and pity. inside the pieces are not sticking together any longer, and in all this shuffle and shift, i feel rollarcoaster sick to my stomach.

veronica drew me a picture to "make you happy again, momma", and max slid his hands down my damp cheeks saying "don't cry". and, it all just makes me more upset at myself, as i loathe them to see me broken down.

i swore i would never let my children witness me falling apart. it just makes me feel like a terrible mother, and yet another thing i am failing at. that familiar urge to run is sitting heavy on me, and i am trying to mock it, stick my tongue out irreverently, tell it to sod off; i promised that we would not leave for a few more years. so, i sit here and try to breathe. i try to make friends with the side of me that knows this will pass, and the other part that wants to stomp her feet and wail at the moon. they are all me, and i am all them. and, it is becoming quite clear that i want, need, crave more from this life of mine.

some people hide their emotions

and some people show too much

i'm aiming for somewhere central

nosebleed (acoustic) ~ maximo park

i'll be your engine driver in a bunny suit

keep art alive; art by scott altmann

waiting in the target dressing-rooms, circles around the cars max thinks are best; i fancy the lightning mcqueen with his tongue sticking out, though veronica scrunches her nose up and calls it rude. suppose i like to be a bit rude, now and again. i always find it amusing that people who do not know me well find me so serious and serene, either overly-kind or somewhat distant. i've been called mysterious, a poet, an artist, a lover, a mother, and occasionally a bitch. and, yes they are all part of who i am, some days i'm more one than the other. but rarely, if ever, do people pick up the sarcasm, the sense of humor that is rather warped, nor the snarky side. of all the things i know i require trust to let out, i never thought being silly or inappropriate was something i only allowed certain people to see.

if you asked my closest friends they would tell you i can be quite a slag at times, that i laugh as easily as i cry, and that most days i am just a dork. that car, the mcqueen with the tongue stuck out, that is who i am sometimes; irreverent and a bit of a brat. and if i love you, if you matter to me, i will tease you - at times showing very little mercy.

part of it comes from the family i grew up in. we can be a bit of a rough crowd for the fragile, or ill-prepared. we are all very competitive, and have a strong command of words, and know quite well how to use them to wrestle and conquer one another. we are a family of mockers and miscreants, but under all of the snide comments and taunting jabs, we love each other.

my brother told me once that he would sit down any new girlfriend, before he brought them round to meet the family, and go through a de-briefing; basically recanting any and every embarassing story, or topic that will be seen as fair game, so that we are rendered powerless on meeting the new her. i laughed at him and said "you forget that i'm ten years older than you. i have stories you don't even know existed that you were part of." but, then again, he has quite a few on me, too.

while i stood in that dressing room, picking out the tongue-wagging mcqueen and waiting for julia to ask for the next five tops to try-on, my cell phone rang. i put it to my ear and hear pete yorn singing the line convince yourself that everything is alright, 'cos it already is.

for a moment i am transported to chicago - grant park, to be precise, and i am among friends who are screaming and singing along. last night i was saying how much i wish i was there, how after the week i've had i could use the company of friends and music, and she said to me "lucy, what do you want?" and then a list of artists and bands were laid out before me. it was pete that i chose because right now i need a dose of the familiar, a song i can sing along to, and the hands held (and lighters raised) way that music can travel through the distances and bring me right where i long to be.

i was supposed to be among friends today, actually. the beach and kids running in the sand, music and arms to wrap around me that understand what this week has been for me. but, the week has taken it's toll on me, or i suppose, i have allowed it to beat me up. i feel a bit like a scene from fight club, walking about with bruises from my own internal tyler durden. the marks and sore spots are inside, though; a sore throat and headache, my stomach feeling like i've been held upside down and shaken, or that i've just exited montezuma's revenge loopy roller coaster. so, instead of the sand and the much needed water's edge (the ocean, she soothes me), i am back and forth from the couch, slipping into dreams and shivering under a blanket even though it is sweltering outside.

the last dream i had was of climbing a tall tree, and i was up there balancing on it's twisted limbs. my hands were shaking and i felt like the little girl i once was who took that dare from the neighborhood boys, and climbed all the way to the top of the tree-house tree. i remember that feeling, i think they call it vertigo, where everything looks jangly and out-of-focus. i thought i might die, that i would never feel the ground beneath my feet, that i would tumble and fall down some proverbial rabbit's hole and never be seen again.

in this dream, i felt the rush of that, the lack of control and that unmistakable fear trembling and vibrating just under my skin. and then i opened up my mouth to scream, but instead of sound all these feathers flew out. and then the music started, from somewhere below, and with the music came this overwhelming feeling of safety. and with that, i woke up.

my subconscious loves to take the wheel when i allow it, especially when i feel ill and let myself collapse. my dreams are always in color, and they always have a running soundtrack. even in sleep i am singing. the feather girl that i was this afternoon climbed up the tree and was singing along with adam duritz, this line is the one that i woke up with, just waiting there on my slightly parted lips.

she's my angel

she's a little better than the one that used to be with me

cause she liked to scream at me

man, it's a miracle that she's not living up in a tree

i may take a holiday in spain

leave my wings behind me

drive this little girl insane

and fly away to someone new

holiday in spain ~ counting crows