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i am heavy with sadness. the beasts i've been running from are close behind me, panting hard...it's all catching up after years of what feels like living as a deranged woman in an asylum, forgotten. like Camille Claudel . i don't know if you saw the film . i love the part when Camille discovers her over-bearing less-talented ego maniacal ex-lover Rodin no longer wants her. in her heavy skirts over long roads she stumbles to Rodin's home and with a guttural wail throws herself on his front stairs, like they said it'd be in hell, with weeping and gnashing teeth. WHOA- DAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!! WHOA-DAAAAAAAAAAAN!!! i can say this about moving, know why you're moving before you do it. now that it's over if i'd known what was coming i'd have done n-o-t-h-i-n-g. so, you figure it out. or plan what you can and let god figure out the rest. i need to ramble a bit today as I'm brewing up another head of steam and it usually goes like this then maybe i reach somet...

so tomorrow I'll be heading over to the geriatric home where I'll be {possibly} em-ceeing the evening Karaoke hour. that'll be interesting. and how did that happen you ask? well, I'm an avid eavesdropper with a keen imagination. as i wiled away time at the wholefood's cafe recently i chanced upon a gaggle of swimmers, women of various ages, whose one connection is that they religiously swim in the icy cold waters of Barton Springs 'pool'. it's no more a pool than I'm a midget but here I'm learning to let people call things what they want. for instance the street, "manor" is pronounced may-ner...and i wouldn't care except I'm the one trying to spell it out for google maps which i think is in cahoots with big oil as it keeps taking me on the most circuitous routes and i need to stop for gas every forty-five minutes. at any rate Barton Springs is as it's name suggests, a spring and an icy one. the first time i swam in it was ab...

i just wanted to say those words, lugubrious, having to do with a mournful heaviness and desperado, not so much a kamikaze but desperate, sad, lonely, apart. in other news i'm sitting at my other new favorite place, the public library with free wi-fi and lots and lots of homeless folks. i've taken to squatting in the children's section where i can plug in my laptop. here they have small upholstered chairs and ottomans...kid size and my arse fits quite nicely in one. atop the shelves are stuffed animals, bright, colorful, large and small, dragons, a unicorn, a big rubber ducky, an elephant in a birthday hat, a little red car, a green wagon...and above me hangs a larger-than-life book  backlit with red neon, open to the letter "A" with words in spanish next to related images: abuelo (grandpa), aguacate (avocado), armadillo (armadillo), arbol (tree), azul (blue), av'ion (plane).  and a homeless man just got rousted for sleeping.  seeing as it's been very cold...

 i lay awake last night after a long day of frightening grouchiness while Luella the cat nuzzled up to me and kept innocently digging her little sharp claws into my overly sensitive skin. to which i said, 'sister, i need you to be soft and fluffy, no claws." oh you have no idea what kind of grumpiness i refer to, preternatural, demonic and hissing. it was a gorgeous 81 degree day as i drove out to the dry brown hill country with low-slung contorted trees, shallow rocky ravines, a tiny stream here, there, down the road a piece and curving road and sun sun sun.   on my way back into the city i pushed the button to the lowered driver's side window that refused to go back up. i smushed and pressed and begged, pleading please window please. i tugged the window while trying to raise it with my hands. no no no. now dark and arriving home i remembered  the invite to share homemade chili and cornbread with a friend. ugh. i'm supposed to pick up the dvds which i did and then ...

teach us to care and not to care. teach us to sit still .-t.s.eliot/ash wednesday I've decided that it maybe best to let you know the truth about making large sweeping moves when you're close to middle age and creative and semi-always unfocused. it's tres dificile. I've applied, yes, applied for jobs as a host, waiter, floral designer, hotel desk attendant, hmm, what else? doesn't matter. what matters is the process which it is my intention to keep you abreast.  thankfully the one commitment i made to myself before leaving Chicago i am following through on, and that's a  yoga certification to teach. i had started about a year ago but due to my divorce, working full-time and taking improv classes i felt overwhelmed financially and time-wise. the classes were either every Saturday or Sunday, or sometime both for nine months and usually 4-6 hrs each time. and i wasn't sure if i was 'teacher' material as I've taken yoga classes on and off for the la...

so what does mediocrity have to do with wandering? lack of clarity. that's my experience.  sure, i can't control a car accident, that's why it's called an accident. but i could have better protected myself when i purchased this car which has become my big ass cry baby, so i either  love it or leave it. what i forgot to mention yesterday was my intention that no matter what my current living situation, this is my life and my experience. i can choke on it like sour grapes or i can gently massage it into a workable shape.  part of me regrets so many  hazy decisions I've made mostly related to living in Chicago. the pattern is one of dismissal, dismissing myself, my utter worthiness because i believe such awful things about myself. I'm not smart enough, I'm not pretty enough, i don't have enough money, I'm too old, I don't do headstands, I'm not a child  prodigy, i didn't graduate from college although god knows I've spend plenty of money...

OK, i've had the type of day that makes you want to douse yourself with gasoline and light a match but only after several hundred shots of bourbon. here's the list: 1) remember the car accident? turns out the woman who hit me had an expired insurance policy that naturally covers ...nothing, not my car (Kerry's) or her own car. hussy! and she didn't even get a ticket! 2) i had another blow out today, same side, dummy tire! what's the chance? oh yeah, the car i bought that was "so well taken care of"  has four, FOUR, bent wheels which means that the new FOUR tires i put on today will not wear as long or as well, and i still have to replace the wheels at 175 smackers each! seems like there's more but i'll spare you that to say this: i'm done with mediocrity, period. i am sick to death of accepting aluminum foil for gold. as i sat on the concrete picnic bench outside the 'discount tire' repair shop which is situated along the highway, ...

to start with Austin is dark unlike Chicago where everything shines like a glow worm. here i literally have to open my cellphone to see the car door key hole, yes because remember folks, my beast is from 1993, pre-key fob. the streets are dark, lack visible (i.e. useful) signage and the erratic drivers have me on pins and needles. I'm just trying to stay inside the yellow lines... and hello! I'm lost. but that's not the story for today. today's story boys and girls is about taking a very, very long walk. think groundhog day, the movie...so i set out around nine a.m. along a course parallel the twisting river. the path makes approximately a nine mile oddly-shaped circle which i don't intend to traverse today yet I'm eager to explore beyond the boundaries I'd set for myself in days past. It's going well, halfway through i see a little road that leads off to my favourite swimming hole which is exciting, now i know how to get there when my bike arrives later...

"everyone who blooms late in life, whether you're a writer or anything else because you never,  never know.-Julia Glass I've been asked, "why did you you move?"  why? did? i? move? good question. there are moments when i ask myself that question about nine hundred times a day, especially after i purchased my un-sexy Volvo wagon that immediately cost me 150+ to pass the Texas vehicle emissions test because not only did the car have dry-rotted belts, the horn doesn't work which is a portion of the safety test. makes sense. horn...blow...people can hear you when the brakes fail. the mechanic attempted to bribe me, asking for a 'tip'. "a tip, what're we talkin' about here?" he wanted five dollars. well god knows i tried to give it to him but as a he continued to work  it was somewhat difficult and ridiculous. i drove away feeling angry and empty. the following day i was given bad where-to-transfer-the-title information which led to my pa...

i could really benefit from a Quaalude or two about now, not that i take drugs, i usually drink them like everyone else. in the wholefoods 'cafe' the small fat dark haired woman with a red Christmas gift-printed turtle neck and mom jeans is squirting, endlessly, a topical cleaner on the massive table behind me. no doubt it's filthy but she's seventy-five sprays in...and she's wearing what appears to be a gauzy red ribbon bracelet adorned with hundreds of tiny multi-colored tinkling balls on one hand and a latex glove on the other. "spray it again sweetheart." i don't have the heart to tell her i think she missed a spot. i can see the attraction, if you attack the largest available surface regularly it can keep you occupied for...hours. In other news... the Salvation Army, it's everywhere here, the trucks, the effort, and the stores. A few days ago as i shopped for plates and cups I glanced up from an exorbitantly overpriced set of really ugly dis...