Reminder to be mindful.
I’m alive and I’d be counting down the days til my 28th birthday if I weren’t living in a blur.
I left the farm. Things got weird and I wasn’t learning anything positive any longer. As I am very talented at getting myself out, I quickly found a job in Pittsburgh and I quickly found a house in Pittsburgh and I quickly moved in and quickly started working. Went from middle of nowhere to the city. I went from farmer to bartender/server/manager of a hip restaurant. Extremes.
So, I’m in a blur. I’m doing things, I know that. I am not conscious of them, really. It’s very strange. And I wonder if I’ll ever be able to catch up. Is this the pattern of the rest of my life? Is this how everyone lives — without really being aware of it? I’m nervous.
Screaming Jay Hawkins. LEGEND.
Received my most favorite compliment earlier this morning while on the phone with an old friend. He told me that whenever he’s talking with me, this song is in the back of his mind.
Set a Spell IV (Eames)
Heard kind dogs rip apart a cat. Lots of squealing. Had a kind dog bite my foot. Surprised by the pressure.
What is this?
It is strange. I don’t know what I’m playing with here. These hills and valleys are strange. There’s something dark. There’s a dog, I’m not sure what dog, howling outside our door. I’m scared to go to my cabin and I will not go tonight.
3 phone calls from 3 friends from 3 totally different locations.
1 A phone call to sum up 1 very tumultuous year for 2 women.
2 Checking in on the dog bite.
3 Just love.
The dog has stopped howling.
The power and scope of the support system I am lucky enough to have is whelming. These incredible individuals make up the web that catches me time and time again.
Thank you for not letting me fall into the abyss! Oh thank you thank you thank you!
grow your hair long and thick.
sharpen blades beneath your skirts.
grow callouses on your hands and feet;
toughen the skin, weaken the man.
boil tinctures, make poisons out of sweat and skin.
rub the dirt beneath your feet.
make the men revile you so much so
that they fear your laughter.
take in a turned-out dog,
let it eat out of your hand.
devour without guilt the things you desire—
wine, sweets, bodies, smoke.
gather the small fruits, the leaves, the roots.
gather the bones and wood and stone.
keep collecting, keep stocking your wares.
listen to the night.
listen to the gamelan.
listen to the chants of
monks and cicadas and unholy men alike.
when the tree you planted
earlier that year
when all the rest have died,
take it as a sign of a blessing,
but don’t mistake it for luck.