Remix

So much time has passed and many things have happened. I am moved into my new apartment in Los Angeles, I am back from my residency stay at Mildred's Lane, and I am very much ready to begin work again.

It is hard to dream when I circle into worry about income, but I have many books waiting for me to organize. I am halfway through Toni Morrison's Jazz. It is a lovely thing. I am knitting a scarf and nearly finished embroidering my second city map of the summer. 

I am missing the fellows I met a couple weeks ago, and the moments we shared together. It was a fairytale, what we lived in. I was lost in Brooklyn and found in Narrowsburg. I met more mountains I do not know the names of, collectively the Catskills, and I sat very still. I learned to cut away my negative and jailing thoughts. I loved so many humans, many bugs, many things. 

So here is to bringing Mildred's Lane back to "reality," back to earth. That I can live a daydream and still pay taxes.

"Thin Line"

Swimming in Justin Timberlake and Macklemore, the cars carry my thoughts toward and away, pulse. Mt. Rainier came out behind clouds yesterday, his presence a grace.

I could pretend to be lost. I could say, I don't know what I'm looking at, where to go. 

I bought a Paul Klee self-help book. I also bought a book on how to write about art. I am lapping up Tar Baby and looking out of windows. 

I could say I don't deserve, but that isn't it, either. I could say I am sad, still--forgiveness not budging. These are false, too.

I am still in need of The Heist. It's hard to ignore my anxiety regarding framework, thinking the voices messed me up and prevented any kind of movement.