Thursday, March 28, 2013

20things : odd farewells

1. So I've gotten emotional over this whole house / history / house story aspect of moving. 
2. I have a lot of narrative that took place here; it makes me unexpectedly emotional.
3. And a lot of stuff I've been dragging around since before I lived in Ohio, which takes the narrative back further into the past.
4. I sort of cried a little when I separated out the majority of my carefully curated collection of costume and handmade necklaces vs. the ones I could still wear with the arthritis in my neck.
5. I donated almost all my cds and over half of my books.
6. Probably about nine bags of clothes and random baroque costumery, also gone.
7. My cassette collection (laugh and I'll cut you) went into the trash.
8. Juno and Ravi's medical records --trash.
9. But then I got emotional about something that surprised the hell out of me.
10. I said goodbye to my makeup. (I don't really wear 90% of anymore. Well, aside from a few basic items and nail polish in summer).
11. And not just "bye bye makeup" {trash}
12. No, I said goodbye to items as individuals.
13. Cranberry colored lipstick : you were a couple of really good office temp jobs."
[INTERRUPTION as I am writing this] : Luna, stop shredding that box.
14. Kohl eyeliner : My favorite eye pencil! You went to a lot of clubs and fancy dinners.
15. Liquid liner: I never really got you. You were always good for drawing on other parts of my body than my eyelids.
Luna, we actually paid someone to bring us that box, stop using it as a scratching post.
16. Raisin colored lipstick : Thanks for the help when I had to retake my photo ID when I moved back to PA. Everybody comments on the good picture.
17. Blue lipstick : You were years of clubbing, and a matching blue wig. Your wig-friend has already gone.
18. Roll-on glitter : That raver thing was more than a phase. Or else it was a very long phase.
Luna, I swear to GOD. {I finally just hoist the cat from her site of bad behavior and into the dining room.}
19. China-blue nail polish : I got inspired to get you after Ava and I had our first pedi together. It was the second time I'd ever had a pedicure, the first being my wedding.
20. I don't think I realized how symbolic and laden stuff has gotten for me. Like, individual items all have a story, and I'm remembering that story as I'm sorting them into donate, trash, and (the rather smaller) keep pile.

That is all.
Still not eating great, but I had a sandwich yesterday and nothing bad happened.
Luna is now back on top of the Forbidden Box, gleefully attempting to maul the tape with her teeth and claws.

Seriously reduced jewelry collection. If you are interested in knowing about / examining any part of the rest, please comment or send me fb mail.

How many bottles of nail polish can one like, legitimately have before it gets to be, arguably, too many bottles of nail polish?

Friday, March 22, 2013

20things : word / cave

1) Sometimes there is a cave where I go.
2) Or rather, where I am put.
3) Where I put myself?
4) It swallows all light, all sound, all thought.
5) And all my sleep.
6) I sit there at the back of it.
7) Words are what I do.
8) But the cave has swallowed all of them.
9) The cave has taken light, sound, and thought...
10) but it has left feeling.
11) Some feelings.
12) The cave has taken joy.
13) I'm in the back of the cave with...
14) no light, sound, thought, sleep, words, or joy.
15) I can see lights moving outside the cave.
16) It's the rest of the village.
17) They are preparing for morning and day.
18) I finger the floor beneath me.
19) Rocks and minerals are sharp against my palms.
20) How long until I become them?

Word / 


Thursday, March 21, 2013

20things : faint

1) Yesterday morning while packing I fainted very, very briefly.
2) This is not normal.
3) Only one other time has this happened to me
4) [the first time I was a teenager and very sick].
5) And it was like I had a head full of
6) bees     swirling static     many many radio frequencies
7) And I thought whoa
8) And I thought this is kind of extreme
9) And then it was like
10) head controls legs? yes/no [choose one]
11) And I thought I'm gonna hit the ground now
12) But there's a chair.
13) We call this one the comfy chair.
14) It is a La-Z-Boy with like water damage or something?
15) But we refuse to throw it out b/c it is so comfy.
16) I slept in that chair in college. And after.
17) I think I have been Mike's friend for as long as the comfy chair has existed.
18) I fell into the comfy chair awkwardly.
19) My limbs were in all the wrong places.
20) But the many frequencies sort of tuned into one and the falling woke me up.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

20things : movement

1) Have had extreme bouts of anxiety wherein I haven't been eating.
2) And then I don't sleep and then I sleep a lot.
3) And then I throw out more stuff.
4) And then I donate more stuff. 
5) And then I build boxes to pack more stuff.
6) Occasionally get pulled out of myself to meet with others.
7) The leaving is hard. I don't like it.
8) I don't like it.
9) But the destination is worth it.
10) When I'm back at home more anxiety...
11) ...which usually comes with hysterical crying.
12) I try to do this when I am alone as it is troubling to others. Crying is new for me so I mostly welcome it though.
13) Or sleep. Sleep also.
14) I no longer have the layout of my house memorized in the dark. 
15) Because of all the boxes and some furniture rearranged.
16) Since I can't see in the dark I developed this coping strategy. 
17) Mike says turn on lights.
18) I like navigating in the dark.
19) It makes me feel special.
20) I have some new bruises now.

The other day I saw these early buds of spring. They might be pussy willow, but I've never seen pussy willow on a tree before, only cut.

Friday, March 15, 2013

20things : Not Again

1. Not again is what I thought when I tore off a corner of the thick yellow envelope and carefully pulled apart the seam.
2. There had been an email alert that a new document was coming.
3. It contains lines like WITNESSETH:  THAT THE SAID PART OF THE FIRST PART, for and in consideration of the sum of TEN AND NO/100 DOLLARS ($10.00) cash and other good and valuable consideration in hand paid at and before the sealing and delivery of these presents by said PART OF THE SECOND PART, receipt of which is hereby acknowledged, does by these presents, REMISE...
4. I don't know what REMISE means.
5. I don't really know what any of that means.
6. The first definition of google says remise = an expensive or high class hackney.
7. I'm a little unclear about the noun hackney. I think it means a carriage of some sort.
8. I don't think that's right.
9. After more looking I find the definition to relinquish a claim to.
10. It seems I am relinquishing the claim to my mother's house.
11. Which I thought I'd already did.
12. I'm a bit muddled in the head from all this.
13. It's like.... cruel, almost?
14. I gotta find another notary? When I almost cried at the first one?
15. I can't do grieving and downsizing my own fucking house at the same time.
16. There's not enough energy for each one.
17. This afternoon I have to go through all my books and get them down to two bookshelves worth because we went through the floor plan with graph paper and little to-scale cutouts of the furniture we want to take and we can only hold five bookshelves.
18. I am relinquishing the claim to my books. Books make me feel safe. Lots and lots and lots of books.
19. The poetry section stays. I don't know what's going to happen to the rest.
20. I just don't know what is going to happen.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Talking to the blind eye

So I wrote this poem based on three things:

1) I was charmed at AWP by a panel called something like Readings and Performances in Digital Media which featured, among other things, a guy who wrote perl scripts to generate poems within certain parameters. When he read them it was a cascade of language that generated a pleasant emotional heat.
2) A conversation with a friend, at the end of which we made it our goal for the week to talk to our injured parts.
3) Anagram divination.


Talking to the Blind Eye

A lithe gilt knot. 
Bed yen.

Gal knit to debt, 

Bind heel, yet talk gin to.

Taking blithe, 
needy lot.

Tiny ink 
to bleed the lag.

A picture of the eye that is completely blind. As you can tell, I wear my hair over it. This is because I'm self-conscious about how it has a will of its own and stares off into nowhere.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Leaving for Boston in a Snowstorm and I remember

When I was 13 walking through the woods with a friend. She dodged all the bare branches that stretched from the thin tree trunks and blocked our path. I wanted to move as fast as she did, but the snow-covered terrain hid rocks, sticks, sliding things. Trying to catch up, I kept falling. I couldn't see the branches so I pushed them away angrily. She said don't push them away; they'll push back. Go around them instead. The branches whiplashed into my face, already wet with cold and shame. I didn't listen to her. I batted at them from the edges of my non-vision. I ate my anger as branch after branch stung my cheeks.

The trees outside my back porch this morning.

Sunday, March 3, 2013


Hopes and Expectations

So I used to do a lot of these when I lived in Ohio --hybrid digital collage / paintings which I simply refer to as paintings. This morning was the first time I felt like doing one after having moved back to Pittsburgh, and I've been back here seven years. 

That can't be true. I must have done one before then... anyway, I haven't done one in a long time and I'm not sure I'm happy with it. I'm kind of rusty. But I'm half-convinced that ppl are sick of my grieving posts and have stopped reading... which is fine actually. I feel less self-conscious playing to an audience of myself.

Eschatology has been on my mind of late.

And "why this and why not that."

I had to do the painting to stop the crying.

After awhile Mike got up and made a randomly revolted sound. I asked what was that about. He said the morning. I said did you look out the window b/c that would do it. He said the salt from yesterday afternoon seems to have kept the snow off the walks. And then he said, Eeyore Voice: It could be worse. It could always be worse.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

20 things : boxes, again

1. Last night I had a nightmare. We were in a plane going somewhere exotic like Morocco.
2. There was no cockpit door and I was right in the front so I could see and hear the pilot.
3. He had no co-pilot. He kept taxiing the plane down the runway at very high speeds, almost taking off, and then not.
4. He kept saying "if I don't do this right, we're gonna crash." It kept happening and happening.
5. All the passengers wanted off the plane but he wouldn't let us off.
6. Finally they / we sort of staged a coup and overpowered him and open the front cabin door and all piled out in a mad stampede.
7. Then we were stuck in an airport in the country of Approximately Nowhere.
8. Last night I said definitively that I was going to write an email saying, Dear Uncle ___, I'm sorry I haven't been in touch "in person," until now. It has been a rough few months, and I am only beginning to join the land of the living, so to speak. I was just writing you regarding the 12 boxes of my mom's stuff. Because we are making so many trips this spring and summer, I regret that I will not be able to come to ___ , to ____'s house and look through the boxes as I had originally said. I was wondering if it would be possible for you and ___ to please look through the boxes when she comes to visit you, pull out my mother's sketchbooks and send them to me. Love, Jill
9. Now this morning I don't know what I will do if a) he says no or b) he says he'll ship the boxes to me.
10. I want all the boxes.
11. I don't want any of the boxes.
12. They're all I have of her.
13. I don't need any more of her.
14. I really don't want to deal with this before AWP happens because my anxiety's already cranked about the conference.
15. I really do want to deal with this before AWP happens because my anxiety's already cranked about the conference.
16. I want to come and visit you immediately, Uncle ___.
17. I don't know when I want to see you again.
18. I wish we could talk honestly and be open with our emotions.
19. Talking honestly and being open with our emotions scares the crap out of me because our family has never really done it before, and so it would be a supernova shitstorm of bad.
20. I cry about her every day. I wonder if anyone else is crying too.

Boxes, Again