Wednesday, February 24, 2010


I have just went on a marathon writing mission, I wrote non-stop for the full duration of Have One On Me. I almost want to do it again. But I will at least wait until tomorrow. I got so tired halfway through that I started writing words twice or forgetting to write words altogether. 11 pages worth of babble, but more potential than I have ever come up with in such a short amount of time. My body will be angry tomorrow, this is not enough sleep and my hand will be a hurtin' but I don't mind I don't mind I don't mind.

My 4 favorite things love, beauty, loneliness, and grace, all intertwined always, in such an obvious way that I want to make one word for all four of them, because it is impossible for me to think of them separately. Always, when I see the moon, when I am sitting on the edge of a lake, or even greater when I am sitting, in the dark, along the shore of some ocean, I feel/see all of these things at once, not separately but as one cohesive feeling, and I can't think of any other way to describe the ocean to you but beautiful, lonely, graceful, and love. Maybe vast, but that is implied with them well, grace, the idea of being soft, gentle, and, in my head of being ongoing. The frustration, curiosity, wonder, that I can never explain this to you the right way, only trust that in your own way, you know what I mean, that something else does this to you, and that the feeling is mutual, even if it is lost in the words. I love it. I love that we can not explain this to each other, that in a way, no matter how hard we try to give it away, and give it away, it is ours, and we have to keep it, and hold it, cradle it, love it. Today, I feel like I am saying exactly what I mean. All these things, connected, to help me describe more than just the ocean, but the way I feel when listening to Joanna Newsom, it is the same way I feel when I look at the ocean, it if the same way I feel when I look at my mother from a distance, the same way I feel when I step outside of the love that surrounds me to gaze at it. It is so simple, so simple, so complex.

I can never tell, ever if this is for you or for me, though I suspect it is a little for both of us, and I hope, I hope you read this, because I read what you have to say, and I am learning, learning, and we are learning together. I have never felt so good, I have never felt so well sorted, fully understanding myself. We can try to blame it on my sleep-deprived, writing crazed self, but I don't think that is the culprit. For once, or maybe for twice, or thrice I am proud, proud without need of reinforcement not, I did good? but I did good, and I don't even need you to think so.

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