1.25.2011
one day you wake up in a comfy bed with two dogs and wonder if you even slept at all.
and
one day you go to sleep at your parent's kitchen table while simultaneously watching basketball and oprah.
i've been doing these things.
daily.
laughing, thinking, crying.
when all i want to do is
eat girl scout cookies and knit and pretend.
i want to build a fort.
eat a pineapple.
dance at the place where we first kissed.
immediacy and intimacy are separated by a page or two.
but let's get real.
let's get as real as we can without being unimaginative.
1.20.2011
1.14.2011
1.13.2011
~ jean paul sarte
1.12.2011
1.07.2011
Mirror - by Mark Strand
A white room and a party going on
and I was standing with some friends
under a large gilt-framed mirror
that tilted slightly forward
over the fireplace.
We were drinking whiskey
and some of us, feeling no pain,
were trying to decide
what precise shade of yellow
the setting sun turned our drinks.
I closed my eyes briefly,
then looked up into the mirror:
a woman in a green dress leaned
against the far wall.
She seemed distracted,
the fingers of one hand
fidgeted with her necklace,
and she was staring into the mirror,
not at me, but past me, into a space
that might be filled by someone
yet to arrive, who at that moment
could be starting the journey
which would lead eventually to her.
Then, suddenly, my friends
said it was time to move on.
This was years ago,
and though I have forgotten
where we went and who we all were,
I still recall that moment of looking up
and seeing the woman stare past me
into a place I could only imagine,
and each time it is with a pang,
as if just then I were stepping
from the depths of the mirror
into that white room, breathless and eager,
only to discover too late
that she is not there.
don't let any moment pass you by.