slowdownqickly

some days ago

2011-12-05T07:53:00.000-08:00

i like the way people hold on to things.
not with their hearts, but with their hands.
it's interestingly unique, similar to how we can or can not roll our tongues, wink and blink, or draw realistic trees.
things we believe may have been passed down? maybe not.
i think i would tell you about that.

colonial rule you will not.

2011-05-10T09:08:00.001-07:00

i know you want to call it Rhodesia, but you no longer can. it's Zimbabwe, regardless of your rhyme's need for that "sia" sound.
& you ride, headphones at their loudest, this is the busiest street in your city. let them do it. what you can't. if they don't, you will likely recover in a few days and remember what you forgot.
those plates your offspring broke, well they know why you are crying.
when you bought those plates you could not afford the food to fill.
coins counted meticulously, with a knowledge of some future written in breaths on the bus stop window.
you passed that co-worker each day at his bus stop on your way to work. without forethought, today was the day to open the door and chat.
a love that merely could. and maybe did. when we were not looking directly at it.

appendages, apparati, utensil

2011-04-21T08:45:00.000-07:00

slag fell splat on ready concrete below & i rolled calmly by. concrete always seems ready to serve us without expectation, and we mostly like that. in a century will be still erect? how much spray-paint?
a new tooth in our city of ribs.
& do you know of the excitement you incite? i think you might.
& mine are changing too.
how are you hands, pen, keys, pad, typewriter, fretboard, color paints, burning implements?
i hear you lay fallow, uneasy with anticipation of new & warm bleeding. fresh spray-paint.
i promise to remind you soon. swear.
i have occupied these cavities with something you, and all aparati for that matter, can not contain nor convey.
& oh, i will introduce you two some time soon. possibly this is your initial greeting.
& no need to be overly gentle here.
play with every tool you have ever created, you will never figure this ball of amazing out.
my advice is simply to enjoy every attempt to describe the weight of things you will never be able to lift.
this place is larger than us both, and we stay/sit in reverence.
not unlike pedestrians, peering, titillated by the concrete's caught slag splatter and dissipation.
we will likely enjoy a great deal of spray-paint.

from a branched bird

2011-01-10T10:16:00.001-08:00

no snow on the ground in this north american january, so you mow the lawn. you are hopeful.
that neighbor looks longingly at you. the one you met briefly at another's back yard potluck last august. she's wondering if you have gone mad, or are simply as dissatisfied with things about, as she is.
she is grieving the loss of her partner, as she knows that in a year or two they will move on to another.
the requiem she hears clear is one of the happiest songs she can recall, and she is sobbing controllably. her halcyon dreams are brighter than when they first met.
you know well not to look the way of her window, as she told you: "crying just feels right some times. it's not that i am upset or messed-up". you feel the implications of her words toward the rear of your skull: 'please stop looking at me when i look at you'.
& both understand that the warm belly of a kingfisher is yours, if you could simply stop plugging your ears, eyes, mouth, ducts.
you both found something that feels real in your controlled outlets. in the pockets of the problems of you longest hung winter coats, there were beautiful and useful treasures.

in a bottle

2010-12-16T15:09:00.000-08:00

if that exists, i want it to.
if it doesn't, i want it to.

when dragons need a warm fire

2010-11-18T09:25:00.000-08:00

in an unfamiliar state that makes all too much sense this morning.
i think these are related to stress and timelines, but i am never quite certain.
looking at tables a bit too long, as if they would tell me where to sit and WHY.
there is a sense inside that the fate i continually refute has a relevance, if only for today...or this second.
i will go to the next floor, despite the open seats here. this seat is the only one i can sit in, so says my gut.
unknowns fashioned sharply by the wit of a strict date.
it trembles the mind of a handy left leaner.
what is off kilter loosens the folds of all these books, and what we mean by their pictures.
THEIR pictures.

t.b.d.

2010-11-03T08:45:00.000-07:00

dear dear friend,

thoseareleavesblowingoutsidethewindowinthesunandihopetheymakeyouashappyastheymakeme!

um, yes please. i will commission Oliver and his ilk to read bedtime stories to my friends and i. people should be employed for such things. they truly should.

this is the most beautiful morning i have seen to date. it is nearly hot in temperature, the wind is so strong that it appears as if the world is moving in front and before of my feet. & it's one of those days when you need to remember something or someone who did or did not do something. like starting or stopping life, becoming something new within it, or relating it to someone else in some way that they/i/you really liked. i call them 'traditionally bad days', not because they are bad but because the first time i recognized one of these little internal-holidays it was a bad one.

it gives me the uneasy joy i find in trying to define things like wind. & this morning. defining things that are highly conceptual, and hardly containable by a single definition.

wind/vent/el viento/ве́тер

energy moving through gases. moving how? any kind of gases? should the way wind affects things like leaves, birds' feathers and torn antique tractor-seat-leather be part of the definition? i dunno.

not sure why i need to share these thoughts with you, but i am pretty sure that i do. cause you have ever so much time to read such things.

~g

peripheral, or right here

2010-10-11T09:04:00.000-07:00

you know you live in that well nested space below me
why are you coming from down the street to go away today?
and it's a recurrence, as i now see your partner in the same way.
you both gaze my way, with the face a marathon runner gives to afternoon joggers the day after a 42.195 kilometer gallop.
and 'moving again' has less a nice ring to it today. away from you two.
you don't know what it meant to me that i was invited. that i attended. that you cared.
we maintain our perspective with a certain space, and i am letting go of it.
not with such intention, more acknowledgement of what happens and has taken place.
i can say i will remember all the folk music we shared, and the times i was still-single and you two on the morning-couch reminded me that that wasn't okay/so bad.
these narratives we share, you both edify eloquently
call me a function, but i like how these songs have shaped our lives.
even to not believe, they light days as we negate them.
as we attempt to stay us.
& how much for how long can we/i endure.
i think a lot, i feel we've got it, & holding.
& what's that say for all those folks we don't know so swell?
well, i'm not so sure, but isn't that why we keep trying to know them?
why we work diligently to find the ones that fit?
isn't it?

who built this place anyway?

2010-09-07T11:16:00.000-07:00

objective facts about left-hand-dominant people:

*we wear watches on our right wrists so that they do not drag the page as we write
*we do not necessarily feel that our advanced sense of aesthetic awareness is due to being left handed
*if you are right handed, we try to sit on your left at a dining table, so you don't accuse us of bumping your elbow throughout the meal
*we are not all anarchists, although some of us are and certainly once were
*we don't find left-handed scissors any more convenient, as we have applied our cutting skills in reverse throughout our entire cutting careers
*we devour life whole, as we have no other choice
*we truly do dislike the mathematics or quantification of most things, although numbers are not so scary
*we make better lovers (for both right and left handed partners, or both)
*we have perfectly good reasons to write only on the backs of pages in spiral-ring-notebooks

look at the lens, and smile! (candidly)

2010-08-27T11:38:00.000-07:00

some things i have been doing/feeling/not-doing/not-feeling/etcetera in my life longer than the part of my life that they were not true for. these are the ones i am sorta proud of (these lists are the sort of things we do as we approach thirty years of age.):

*falling more in love with people more than they, or i, are ready for (or may ever be for that matter)
*playing music
*appreciating the way things wear over time
*loving words and the ways things can be put
*making a conscious-effort to be less selfish & more genuinely thankful for how other folks effect my life & visa versa
*reading
*thinking critically
*not eating meat (yes, this has always included fish-flesh)
*cuddling
*feeling romantic about nearly everything (no, not necessarily by the relationship definition)
*accepting that i am pretty rad, and that i can become radder
*riding a bike
*not cuddling with capitalism any more than i fee necessary to get bye
*loving my parents for the different people they are, and not for the people who are just different from me. yay, differences are more fun to learn from!
*embracing & oft enjoying loneliness
*thinking of my lovely sis daily
*traveling as much as possible to learn from other places and peoples
*wanting to spend time helping other people have a better time (and occasionally doing so)
*loving abandoned things,and book smells, and vinyl smells, & a few other objects
*feeling it anti-romantic to quantify nearly anything i actually care about
*being thankful for my stellar friends
*writing
*not editing much of anything, for fear that it could lose its love

these things, along with many others, i have taken on for more years of my life than not (in some instances this may create a double negative. Yeah!). i will be turning thirty years of age some time in the next year, and i kind of want to look back at all this (and that) and think of where i have been & where i might be. not likely to get too far into where i am going, as that is always such a patchwork in progress.

p.s. i believe that 'sun in an empty room', by the Weakerthans, is my favorite song today. i have already listened to it several times this morning. i also enjoy the painting by the same name, by Edward Hopper.

portland summer

2010-08-27T10:36:00.000-07:00

good bye until next time old friend. i greatly appreciated every minute of both days we spent together; your glow, the flood of reminiscence you bring to me, the way you lit every room, gave reason to awaken, left early a set of darker pictures on floors in rooms long left vacancies. over and over i have pined for you, and our tryst will be missed.
until your perennial bloom...

train tracks skit-scat

2010-08-13T12:27:00.000-07:00

the rhythm is dissimilar, yet invokes similarly staunch breaths.
expectation of perfections all on strong fear foundation.
we begin these things in weeks, then months, then we hope to remember.
effortless balance at first, we think of jumping at the totter.
same perception that it all should stay the same.
& there's spray-paint all over this thing.
thorax to toes and back again.
literally covering the hull and bow are tags older than us both.
and we wish to sail it until they fade or are scathed from our understanding.
the materials that makeup our movement arrived on different vessels, from disparate lands, with varying degrees of hardness in the scratch-test.
a patchwork of everything our short lives have moved through and beyond today.
we cover and comfort ourselves with the flesh of what we hope to be real.
and hopeful-hearts, however difficult to admit, are that gentle rhythm.

quandary

2010-08-12T09:40:00.000-07:00

i once was writing a song, and called the local librarian to settle a dispute between two dictionaries over how to properly spell the word ellipses.
as luck would have it, there are several ways to spell ellipsis.
some may be plural, and other singular, but i was not one to judge such a matter.

Weakerthans v. Astronautalis

2010-07-08T14:33:00.000-07:00

"Aside", by the Weakerthans and "My Dinner With Andy" by Astronautalis have some strikingly similar melodic bits. Particularly in their choruses. Check it out! I often wonder how intentional these things are, and on the part of whom? Truthfully, I hope they are always beautiful accidents.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A927zcSSw2s

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjbRf7g4FGI&feature=related

they both host quite eloquent lyrics to boot!

2010-06-30T15:58:00.000-07:00

?
who is being interviewed here?
if it is i, could we trade places of seating?
if it is you, could you please speak into my other side?
& as for this room, did they paint and & then knock holes in the walls?
is it all to remind this place what it was and what we want it to be simultaneously?
is it all too soon to run screaming and wonder what would have been, had I not?
were there once decorations where there now are notations of accomplishment?
& if walls truly do recall, will you please ask them again to name a favorite song?
these hands, head shaking, uncontrollable smile, where do I put them?
do we know , though no one else knows, that this is in fact happening?
& when the water rushes in from salty ocean topographic shift, do we continue to pretend?
is our own facade strong enough to kill us?
it certainly feels like it might be.

tentatively forever after (la playa)

2010-06-01T12:01:00.000-07:00

-these dynamics/refrain/shift-of-pitch are far too certain, that's to be certain
-it's not just these days, this week or this well begun year
-my old-souled-goat can climb through lifetimes, cared for and otherwise, and all the while hold notes no others utter
-audible only in certain sequences, with particular attendance
-clip clop wagon wheel, like a blazing fire
-& every time we wonder, well it only makes us wander (and for this we are grateful)

she said they used to love they used to love they used to love-
now they know what they mean-
each and every bird atop the library's clock holds your gaze for second & third scenes-
& numbers depict a sales pitch of what might be the end of even longer days-
breathing in each others exhausted breath the symbol said something of embrace-

-it's a hope in the hands of shaky lovers and their left leaned households' hem-
-and the desire of said lovers is what makes change of their adjacent riches-
-only for a beach-side garden, the laurels wait in patient queues erect-
-and when our eyes open to remind us both that it is not yesterday, we breath ever deanesthetized and fresh-
-feeding fields of mint leaves mending, the sounds become audible to company as present as ever-
-admittedly admitting, the tenets served their tender, and now for some snow-

pathology 176

2010-05-17T13:55:00.000-07:00

i overheard a person talking aloud about a book that was about a band today. from his tone it seemed he knew people in this band, and had fond memories. he spoke as if there was someone there listening, but he appeared to be alone and without a phone.
i then caught myself talking aloud about how odd it was that he was talking aloud to himself.
that person was crazy.

break: a reason for these spaces

2010-05-10T14:45:00.000-07:00

too fast? oh, okay. sorry.
not sure how to do these things i have done since i can remember.
you move here and i am off again. not that your movement was for me. nor my absence for you.
but i'll bother to feel bad if it's what you need to feel better about it all.
it's an iterative process, this process of knowing we think we know.
handbooks, ballots to bail out our other last chance: and you taste the same taste.
surely a ghost could do better, but who had time to understand that business anyhow?
so bother to grab me by the shoulders please, because that's what i need to feel better.
persons. places. smells. reasons. things i can not see, and am not sure i should want to. but i want to, and would you please show me?

resoled slippers

2010-04-14T10:26:00.000-07:00

once you lived in Lisbon
so much more than just a summer
built pyramids of pleasures past, and those that did say never
faster, faster, faster cried the waning wake and tether
indicative of folks who study lives and loves of others

& it's not that I keep doing this
over and over
it's that i'm not doing that
over and over
never subverted
over and over
simply not mentioned

i used to be Algerian, from far external texts
stood in the arms of an ocean deeper than what we see here
worked hard for these marks, and never surrender
scathed from bow to stern, & recalling we both were

& the background sounds bleed bigger, awaiting recognition
all our backs bleed thicker, stood on by some past conviction
interlocking fingers, as if conscience was cohesive
not building fortress around, rather lush gardens within them

not a hagiography for my heroine

2010-02-10T11:10:00.000-08:00

said it's thought they are under the covers escaping a winter--for a moment i'll believe that, if only to occupy my story book obsessions--the direction their feet mingle, as if a parent/caregiver/oppressor had never dissuade--peering gently through cotton fiber blends to watch the shape sunlight makes today--a stumble, a late family pet, ascended and brings endless loose ends to be tended--a narrative, from the untied tether, concerning retired relatives revolutionary folly--structures spread splinter to tooth, casualty free, lest we forget capitalism...or be forgotten--bed sheets spread in mid-west fashion, pock marked by insurrection--making sense in a bed's context, the narrative shifts willingly beneath sunlit shape--and how free was the choice/will/interpretation of where to hang hats/bomb shelters/a cosmic umbrella--bedsheets narrative is not for question, nor messenger to an inquisition--born in the unlit to die in the light, bright, glow of what might make change--the beauty of dark initial incubation holds far too much nutrient for aged bed sheet shifters--through the window/bedsheet/umbrella, the living/breathing sweat of stronger children we hope to have darker holds--grow

idaho (or, the freezingly beautiful, retrospectively weary north)

2009-12-26T09:41:00.000-08:00

you don't have an email account. that is likely the most intriguing thing a person has let me in on lately. the garages we hid from cops in, glow like heavens.
those two, they still hang out nightly. and this one still "uses the restroom" every other second minute. chest held, out, not that we've begun to believe it.
the children we all have make children out of all our warm hands. and nothing we ever swore would never change matters beyond some best intentions.
nervously i knew this wouldn't be good, but in that it is. i knew i needed to hurt for a second. needed to see you. breath in the frost bite.
is reminiscing really for our generation? i live distant and you stay as close as you can. both in a veiled attempt to veil all those things we will never do, and others we always will.
i cling lively to anything that looks like your shining aged face. icy rivers, banjos picked softly, hard-drugs, any source of energy. unacknowledged of course. so much of my root grew only in protest to your watering.
unpacking the vestments of your last trip home. we both know. and neither has a clue.
still, to the last syllable, i can not peck your name. draw a face. i'm learning that i like the implications of loosing. the latent ones that give us that hope we didn't have to work for.
talk to you soon, hopefully.

hawaiian mistaken

2009-12-06T10:41:00.000-08:00

so that's not your number i have been in contact with.
what a quiet. good. bye.
the other end, with its "who is this". "k".
you have become part of the cosmos in a hopelessly illiterate sense.
we all wish to hold you...again.
and hope beyond dreams that you wish the same.
this is not only you, but all of us...we have bills to pay.
is this my message in a bottle?
sure, why not!
it's all the courage and/or cowardice welled up these past days.
and possibly someone else knows more concretely.
but for the more courage/cowardice required, we all have bills to pay.
i love you dearly my friend.

your lips are my life

2009-11-02T12:07:00.000-08:00

i overheard you, as you may have intended.
penned feverishly on what i intended you to think were notes from my reading.
you had aged only eighteen years, this was fifteen years ago, the two of you met in some mathematics class at your high-school. the genre of math was not pertinent to the discussion.
"after fifteen years in a relationship you are really not in a relationship. it's more like, just there"
to this your friend replied, "yeah, but that drug addicted love you feel at first can't last forever. you wouldn't want to be addicted to drugs your whole life. i wouldn't. it has to calm down and become normal at some point".
you're not sure you still love your partner. not sure you even recall what love is to you. you would "never just leave", but you don't find it necessary to talk about why that is. this feeling/idea that once made you never want a moment away from your partner has evanesced, and where its shadow laid is this constant reminder that it may never return.
you then both go into a narrative discussion of past relationships, finding a conclusion that there is a two year limit on the a priori sense of agape.
& i thank you both for the intriguing & thought provoking conversation.
what is the answer to tall of this? should we resist the impulse to be near each other like hip-sisters in the beginning stages of a long term relationship? would that extend the goodness? is that goodness not the point? i think that the answer lies in the questions being addressed. they are not quite correctly pointed for answers being sought.
more milling this later.
postscript: is this "problem" inherent in monogamy?

BLOCKHEAD!!!

2009-10-30T13:34:00.000-07:00

no time to enjoy writing, but I have recently enjoyed some super stellar music! please check out Blochead's album titled, Music by Cavelight. particularly the track called "Insomniac Olympics". Some of the best music I have ever heard!
also, P-Love, a Montreal based turn-tabelist has recently put out some mind blowing jams for your head. Check it!
lastly, a great ol' friend of mine recently turned me on to The Gaslight Anthem. for anyone up for some "soulfull" oldschool rock and roll, this may well be your tunnel light, as it has certainly become mine!!!

date and name please.

2009-09-25T17:21:00.000-07:00

you gave me this shirt-
said it reminded you of her-
now i look at others wondering who you stole it from-
you're the whole story behind my poor tattoos, and i love you-
an aggregated heap of years since we were here-
growing deaf, old, and better as "musicians"-
we all dreamt together of the floors we would sleep over-
squatting countries, curb-sides, and watching closely those who still do-
& i know where i know you from, though not one of us will say-
basement, bathroom, second floor, we're runaways-
everyone i watch now reminds me of you-
'rushing back' may be the phrase to use-
& i see life in this, as i saw in us-
in that cold concrete space, Diamond Heights, all together now!-
this life is in no way complete, never should be-
& looks so much different today

of napkin notoriety

2009-09-16T10:30:00.000-07:00

little down she said
stand-ups like kickstands beg impermanence
a little like "another" today
but chin-up, the seasons are coming to a close/beginning
weight has dissuade the balance's lanky levers
say i remind you of a lover, followed by faults of uncertain origin
& this is what we do
sit and talk of others, in an effort to avoid this seemingly inherent selfishness
draw upon books we've not yet read
drawing memories on our hands

affixed along the hips

2009-09-13T22:07:00.001-07:00

i can be a vacation.
also i can serve as a book you hold fast to its epilogue.
furthermore it is possible that i am a page in a calendar with photographs of antiquated swing-sets, which you like very much and keep in a dusty paper box some place until that big move far off.
a long run through cool dark wood, filled with a special sort of excitement that your grandchildren will relish the telling of.
the grade you deserved to receive for work you feel represents your thoughts in splendid order.
the delicate balance between what someone said and what they intended that you never quite wish to spoil with a question.
the dust on both your old records and vinyl that maintains a scent so dear to your heart, tucked in the webbed corner of every other great space.
seasons you love to warm up to, and recall the last when you did the same.
& for this not just a memory, but a piece of something great to help everyone get to the bus stop on time & without panic.

perfection is for dreams, reality more for the fucking up

2009-09-04T11:08:00.000-07:00

it's a battle, tossup, contradiction
the space between my shelter and yours shrinks each interaction
is this time the one i find some reason behind?
in the still life there are covert options, following orders, hidden by dental lamps
polarization is so weak and waning
and this is not the only ripe fruit, but it is ripe fruit
fuck absolution, and forget it the same way fate and faith were
pieces of a language left on the same island in the same bound book
the links that hold muscles and bones in suspended necessity are absolves of a mission
there is a hustle in the alley that can find solemn peace in a vomit yellow street light
but it is not light or dark that allows me to smile or nod
those are concepts for someone else to uphold and internalize
my reality is in a dirty novel and a pack of your cigarettes

tired of hiding

2009-08-10T19:05:00.000-07:00

so that was what a bad day looks like.
then i returned home to find a message from my department chair asking for a meeting with me asap.
it may not mean anything at all, but all i can think is that she has more bad news.
i really need a kiss in the hair (the kind you get with a hug from a very dear friend) and a really really really really long hug (the kind we call cuddling). the kind that lets you get it out. the sort that hits you in the gut & reminds you why you do what you do every day. the sort that valiantly gives a fuck about something other than its self & its own historical context.
this blog is not a place for me to rant and let out "my poor feelings", but today (& recently) there is nowhere else for that. the best place feels like this, because no one will read it.
done

cartography of me, vol: I

2009-07-15T09:04:00.000-07:00

it's not a house shaped after a viola, though i wish it were-
gardens in the f-holes, along the fingerboard, skirting scroll-
shelter in a belly, with hallways scented as all the pain it took to grow-
this thing made of trees, the gut of sheep, & rich in coal from beneath-
texture, resonate, run, run, run-
this space shelters anyone, fill in the blanks as you see it in your moment-
& if the keys loose their tune, allow it-
& if the bridge slips a step, play it-
where your bow meets coal is where you hold the world-
a saddle with no time for pitch perfection-
play off the imperfection and chose what you art will entail-
release, fluidity, run, run, run, run, run

things which can be "drawn"

2009-07-11T10:23:00.000-07:00

lines, string, out, pictures/images, cards, pistols, numbers, cards, a bath, & quarter, straws, to a close, blinds, a match or competition, together

positivism & faith: similarities? *~

2009-06-21T11:03:00.000-07:00

clever acronyms delineate the proper worth of a prospective candidate
every last barely breathing thought rationalized to an acute point of stoicism

what are you worth, & to who?

life long aspiration of becoming a specialist. in a decidedly fallow field
the doctor said don't do it. even scientists can't handle hearing narratives of what they don't want to know.

you'll never work in this town again.

houses constructed of ending resources, rooted in shifting sediments
the shift is what goes unnoticed. the movement of energy blinded by an "enlightened" light. emphases on consistency solely.

headlights in the eyes of critique.

move around a globe to find some smoke and a place where weather shifts & animals feel it. the experience will be shared with the choir, but they will sing rather than listen.

the disdain of enlightenment,even now, dilutes you.

SHE'S TWO!!!

2009-06-16T22:30:00.000-07:00

i know that people in many countries don't celebrate their years of age, and don't even know how old they are, but until she doesn't care we will celebrate the lovely Penelope Beatrice in human years.

adolescence?

2009-06-13T11:08:00.000-07:00

why can i not recall swinging outdoors when i was 3 years of age?
are psycho-linguistic connections part of the explanation for our lack of childhood memories?

could this be partly explained by the idea that, as young children, we do not have a language to describe or document what is going to happen, is happening, nor what has happened in our lives?

is language the basis of our internal documentation, and if so, do we require documentation for memory? or, are we looking in the wrong place for memory?

could this lack of articulate language be the reason so many other sentient beings do not display the same emotions, or in the same ways, as we do? do they feel these feelings for one another, and others, and simply not recall their interactions as in-depth?

if we could teach our children more concrete linguistic skills in their earliest years, would they recall more?

lastly, someone is likely already studying this, has a name for it, and feels they can "prove" some of these inquiries. just popped up in my head the other day and i thought this a great way to remember it. hah! if you know if any such studies, please send them my way.

postscript: do not connect this to aged memory loss in any linear way, as we do not necessarily lose language skills and there are a whole different set of variables in this situation.

so, uh...chaos or smoke? or both?

2009-05-30T23:13:00.000-07:00

there are so many misunderstandings whizzing by my overly sensitive dome right now it is making me a bit ill.
i am doing my best to remain positive and remember why i have made the choices i have, but nothing is quite coming to fruition. or even pretending it may at some point.
i am intentionally cryptic here because it seems everything in my life fits this scenario right now. it is not necessary to specify. sometimes this blog is a good place for this "let it out" sort of writing. or apparently is has become such today. huh?
school/work, friendships, other sorts of relationships, child care logistics, and the like.
if i know you, you are a part of one these groups, & there might be something you could tell me that would help me make sense of something, please do! anything! i fully refute the traditional masculine idea of not asking for help. i am one person who can only stand to gain from listening to the perspectives of others, so let it rip!
full explanations or a simple yes/no will suffice. if there is pain involved, bring it! just bring it soon please, so i can get out of this haze.
merci!

in another's words

2009-05-13T12:02:00.000-07:00

and in a harmonious voice she asked the sky:
is it possible to have true guy friends?
why do they always have to get sprung on me?
so they think i'm atractive, and i'm single, why should this have to consistently change the relationship?
she wondered, does everyone feel this way, or is it just me?
why should it be my job to make relationship dynamics with friends clear?
can't i just enjoy being single, and having a lot of good friends?
what is it about my interactions with men that makes them think i am interested in more than friendship?
why am i wasting my time thinking about something that is entirely someone elses problem?
i have far more important things to take up my time. like remodeling my bathroom.

& they make shapes

2009-05-02T08:09:00.000-07:00

concerned with linearity
this can not be the only way we understand things
sequences of logable numbers, attached ideas and well lit concepts
set in claustrophobic spaces with specific cut outs
feeling and a cut out
can humyns understand the significance of these licks
the bolts that bind
pieces licensed to a past that has passed
tethers held by teeth hardy cast
may be as perennial as perceived
likely a discretionary perception in a faint wind

primavera

2009-03-23T09:55:00.000-07:00

my mailbox and I will again move across this city. back a bit further north,and a smaller bit east pdx. old roommates moved out to start new lives: one to marry & the other to work on a farm in far eastern oregon. new roommates are in search of a sense of adulthood, and i am knowing that these things do not change. we simply put on different hats, coats & mail boxes. i will be moving in with three good friends who are also team mates on the bicycle team i spend so much of my time with. one an ex military career person with a philosophy degree and hunger for conversation, another from stuttgart who studies economies through geography and loves my lovely daughter, and a third from salem, or, with a sharp wit and spreading smile. am i excited? i suppose, it is always nice to be some place new. even if only a bit further north and slightly less further east. i have no need to be bitter, but i am ready to make a larger move. barcelona, vancouver, chicago, dakar, sao palo, who knows. any place would be nice, it's just time to leave. alas, this idea is futile right now. place bound i am, and place bound i shall be. and if that must be the case, i suppose portland is one of the best places to bind.
i have fun research looming, penelope beatrice is beginning to speak in sentences & is hilarious, it's about to stop raining, and the world is in a bit of a shift from system to stone. so things look good! also exciting, my new room mates and i are going to play music together! ahh the recap. i plan to soon write something interesting, and less stream of consciousness. for now i will end with a nice quote from
The Weepies: "i held so many people in my suitcase heart, i had to let the whole thing go, it was taken by a wind and snow, and i still didn't know that i was waiting, for a girl, on a slow pony home".
happy spring everyone!

finals week again again again

2009-03-12T22:06:00.000-07:00

quick note on my cognitive what-not this past & coming week. i have so much to get done that my only release is to ride my bike as hard and long as physically possible. this seems to clear my head, after which i can write essays and research papers. it's a bit ridiculous, and feels amazing.
postscript: my new room-mates installed a full liquor bar to our common living quarters this afternoon.

think about direction

2009-02-25T12:07:00.000-08:00

we heard you say it was meant to look like running paint, but we all know what that meant-

the lovely shapes your skull makes, shadows in boats on seas we dream of-

what do stars really mean, you told us with your cryptic southern state rap step-

influenced razors and sleeping partners, and stood in your place of plain sight-

& if this is sex I want it, & if this is love I want it more, & those may have been your words,

you are after all, in part your star spangled chest, the reason I can say this-

awe is only one hold of the cradle that is not prepared to fall-

the saints of snow still hold heads differently than those sun blessed-

and I've been here hours waiting, but could not tell you what the table top is made of-

shared drink with both hands on one glass in six eight time-

and somehow none of that is frightening any more, but another bit of dust-

a second piece for you dear friend, sectioned eloquently as you might prefer-

could not tell the color of the bathroom walls, kitchen curtains, or iris accurately-

the keys have worn thin and difficult to read-

modern woman with a world trade agenda, two bold knowing lovers, a grandparent's buck-knife-

and a gut twisting urge to let it all out of the bag

eff the johnson control!

2009-02-10T12:31:00.000-08:00

some thoughts on the day's musings.

is it problematic to use the term "cancer" to describe a spreading problem in an institution, movement, etcetera? according to current bio-research cancer cells do not know what or who they belong to. does this truly correlate to the spread of crisis or dissemination of ideas in a group, or in society at large?

is it not an equally Utopian idea to claim that a single dominant paradigm is necessary to create a focused cohesive society, as it would be claim that a pluralistic and multi-dimensional ideology based model is necessary? is either correct? is the idea of paradigm mere shit? should individual perspective be the source of truth and cohesion? would that generate cohesion?

ask these questions because the fundamental theory and historical context is often where a paradigm shift finds its beginnings, and maintains a foothold to endure.

are paradigmatic shifts always calling for a shift in, or deconstruction of, meta-narratives?

to what degree did the formation of the Christian far right during the Nixon era create the possibility for a backlash movement in denominations such as Episcopalian? Does this explain, in part, the current stance of these religious institutions? If so, to what degree?

step #5 in the process of "becoming 30 yoa".

2009-01-21T16:34:00.000-08:00

(here is something i work every day to achieve, and decided to write down)

the most obvious alternative to most of the things i talk shit about, with regard to other people, would be for everyone to be just like me. this is in no way what i want. i enjoy the diversity of people, and for the majority would never want to change them. "good" or "bad" (save those who are emotionally or physically harming others with their choices).

for this old codger, the time has come my friends. time to stop judging people based on their benign choices, and rather observe and learn from those choices. not to say i wish to be less critical, rather that i should be critical of things worth being critical of and simply learn from other things (yes i know "things" it too broad a term, but i am on a homework break and have no time now to elaborate). i believe it is possible to determine a relatively clear distinction between the harmful and harmless. i am supposedly some sort of sociologist after all. i may as well start making the science more a part of my personal life if i wish to be a good one (that sentence was intended to incite comment from any and all of my post-modernist and deconstructionist readers).

la force des oeufs

2009-01-19T10:49:00.000-08:00

it's important to recall what it took to get here-
everything began so broad conceptually, and moved pavement under step-
as a reflection of everything i have done and how it should change, this is acceptable-
walking to stores, buildings we call houses and flooded with mixes of emotions-
it's not likely that i can make this clear and benign at the same time-
we hold like eggs under pressure-
it's our shape that keeps us safe-
if i believe that of you we ought to be ok-
but it has come time now, that i think of wearing colors-
my childhood is re-synthesized through the window in the hallway-
my child holds the strings to a cradled new belonging-
and for this we have a synthesis--she wins--simply-
learning to learn is not taken lightly-
and if it's cryptic you like, then you may no longer like me-
we hold like eggs under pressure-
it's our shape that keeps us safe

margot's fear of spiral-staircases

2009-01-03T09:36:00.000-08:00

& it was beautiful!
my recent excursion to Belgium and the Netherlands (Holland) was in every way amazing! i met some fabulous people, learned a great deal about myself and a bit about another part of the world. i began the trip in Brussels, then Antwerp, Rotterdam and Amsterdam. the sun made an appearance for nearly half of every day, and the temperature never rose above 4 degrees celsius. just what this kid wants from a winter vacation! vitamin D & lots of layers!

my evidently suppressed desire to move to Europe came rushing back in waves and is not likely to ebb this go around. the cultures and political climate of the places in Europe i have visited have been much more similar to my personal beliefs than those i have experienced in the United States. several of the people i encountered welcomed me into their homes and shared stories of their lives with me. it makes no sense, but i felt more at "home" on vacation than i typically do in my home in the states. possibly this says something about my current living situation, but i feel that it is also a clear sign that something larger needs to change. it's simple really. i belong some place else in the world, and i will relocate as soon as i can.

so why don't i just do it? "if you dislike the U.S. so much, why don't you just leave", is a common part of this dialog i have had too many times. to begin, i don't dislike the U.S. as a whole. i prefer the majority of culture (in its plethora of meanings and manifestations) that i have encountered when traveling. it's not a zero sum game. to move to Europe any time soon i would have to convince Penelope Beatrice's mom to let me take her with me, or to move as well. we have both agreed to not split her life in half between us for long periods of time, as this would negate Penelope's need to create social networks and build her own relationships. there are clearly some large benefits that could come from Penelope living half the year in another country, but they are not part of the agreement. in fine, i will likely wait until Penelope is old enough to express for herself how she wants her life to work, and then her mother and i can work together to try and make that happen. until then i will try to visit as many different places as possible, and learn more about the part of the world that i will be moving to. for the moment, Belgium gets the vote!
i am absurdly jet-lagged, and hope to look back at this post with a laugh at its silly structure and poor wording. but there it is. got it out for now. such an amazing trip!

an appropriate quote for a foregotten war

2008-12-15T11:57:00.000-08:00

"If we cannot by reason, by influence, by example, by strenuous effort, and by personal sacrifice, mend the bad places of civilization, we certainly cannot do it by force.": Auberon Herbert, 1894

serenade of sirens

2008-12-14T11:06:00.000-08:00

a lovely blizzard!

those are the most succinct words to describe portland this fine sunday morning.
i walked home with my bike from a friend's apartment as it began to fall from all sides. friend on the way to the airport, to some place much warmer than this. i hold no envy. enjoy!

snow is winter's sunshine!

stopped at a greek restaurant for breakfast, and as i did, left my mittens outside beside my bike lock. they are keeping someones' hands warm now.

i want to think that the committee of whatevers that oversees our planet's weather knew that i am off to belgium and luxembourg next week. "send some snow to portland before he flies", one thoughtful whatever exclaimed. i am happy to have not missed this!

this the second day after a trying finals week, and nothing is more welcome than this storm. it reminds me of a place i called home for the first twenty years of my life. now i think of that pace, and use verbiage like "they" and "the people there...". finally internalized a relatively lost connection to that place. but today i can think of little but that place. the feet of snow we had by this time of year. days spent at my grandparent's house, shoveling off their roof and car-port. driving to sled or ski with my sister. smoking in the bitter cold, with warm friends and hot drinks.

this is the best place to be today. i am off to take photographs of snow, read , drink hot tea, relax, sled on cardboard, remember.

snow is winter's sunshine.

gerow, out.

Theoretical connection

2008-11-21T08:32:00.000-08:00

this is an excerpt from a paper i wrote for a grad theory class i am attending this term. we were asked to write about two theorists that relate to the way our world view, personal interactions and inner feelings are shaped. i decided to post it here because i thought some day it would be good to look back on and re-write once i have a more concrete understanding of the theories i read. left to folders and desktop destinations, papers and essays are lost forever to me. i need secondary reminders, at the least.

Brian Gerow 11/20/08

Grad Theory, Professor Blazak

Thought Paper 6

As a young anarchist punk I read a piece by Bakunin, and thought it to be the gospel for my scope of the world. The state is the true and omnipresent evil of every society. Not capitalism, avarice, religion, spaghetti monsters or the oxford comma, but the government that decides the fate of existence for them all. I next moved on to Kropotkin, whose theories of Anarcho-Communism were much more sensible and necessitated less violence. Now in my ripe old age, I tend to see the world through a much more pluralistic looking glass. The "evils" of the world, not as capitalism, the state or religion but all of these and myriad more. Furthermore, the construction of what is popularly believed to be "evil" is often subjectively created as such for the gain of some power structure. The world as a complex corpulent bladder of fluidity, that cannot be named and pinpointed with one specific origin or destination.

In his piece titled, ”On Authority”, Friedrich Engels dispelled many of the unidirectional ideas of anarchist theorists who wrote in his day. He explained that with the way societies have come to depend on larger scale forms of production, authority is inherent, and can not simply be abolished. “We have seen, besides, that the material conditions of production and circulation inevitably develop with large scale industry and large scale agriculture and increasingly tend to enlarge the scope of this authority.” (Tucker p.732) Simply stated, as populations grown, so grow the demands of production, and the industries that produce. These larger industries require a minimum level of authority to exist. Engels gave an example of a ship on the ocean with a full crew. When gale force winds whip through the sails and the ship is in danger of sinking, the crew of hundreds instantly looks to the guidance of very few skilled authority figures for a plan of action. This may be a slightly extreme example of necessary authority, but Engels was dealing with some fairly extreme folks. This same genre of scare tactic is used today to legitimate and bolster authority within the United States government. After the attacks on the World Trade Center in Manhattan, the pulse of the U.S. population was set to a “terrorist alert system” that told citizens what color their perceived threat was related to for that day. This alert, and the event that preceded it, created a loyalty (read nationalism and xenophobia) to the authority in the U.S. that had not been seen for quite some time. Regarding population growth, authority and social needs, the theories of Friedrich Engels and several similar social theorists are very similar to the way I view the world today.

On a more micro level, no one other than Michael Foucault can better explain the way I feel about the concept of power in the world and in my own inner struggles. Foucault describes power as a truly fluid and necessarily ubiquitous phenomena in the world. In “Power as Knowledge” he wrote, “Power is everywhere, not because it embraces everything, but because it comes from everywhere. And ‘Power’, in so far as it is permanent, repetitious, inert, and self reproducing, is simply the overall effect that emerges from all these mobilities, the concatenation that rests on each of them and seeks to arrest their movement.” (Lemert p. 466) Foucault describes power as a field of relations that join at a conflict, or the name we attribute to a “complex strategical situation” in society. I try to look at issues of conflict in my personal life through a scope similar to this, however difficult it is to see through some days.

For example, my relationship with my ex-partner and our daughter has become a writhing ball of confusion in the last year. It is easiest to deal with every interaction with my ex-partner on face value, and have every argument that comes up because we both want the power position regarding how our daughter is raised. To pull away from the situation and look at the complexity of the conflict creates a whole different picture of what is going on. We, the presumed holders of power, have expectations put upon us from all different angles of society that are influencing our conflict. Our peers, parents, social norms and values, ideas about how we were raises, expectations for the future, and endless other factors (agents of control) are creating this conflict. There is no one simple place to point a finger and blame a party for their ideas or actions in this or any other conflict, because the real culprit is everything. From here it is necessary to look at all of the origins of the conflict, and with all parties involved in the struggle, determine which are more valid to the outcome or “resolution” than others. That all sounds a lot more simple than it is in practice. That is why I love social theory! It can make sense of things that make no sense at all!

from here i will go on to write about Jurgen Habermas' theories of communication and the boundaries to conflict resolution that are created by our gendered bias verbiage. recall, "pure communication".

uneven seams

2008-11-03T15:34:00.000-08:00

i am grading papers at school this afternoon, and reading student's ideas of what is socially acceptable and what is taboo. they are evaluating these social norms per the formal and informal sanctions attached to them. relatively basic intro to sociology business.

reading all of the personal accounts folks responded with makes me think of something that is troubling me today. i have given in to an informal social norm on this same day of the year for the past eleven. i don't talk about people who have died and how i feel/felt about them. clearly this norm exists for the preservation of positive, up-lifting thought. its sanctions are bolstered by the ever popular "debbie downer" stigma. today, for a brief moment, despite my fleeting judgement, i opt to disregard this norm.

my sister, Becky Denice Gerow, died in a car accident on this day in 1997. every year i try to write something to her, but i thought this year i would make it public (no clear reason why). i love my sister very much. she is a giant part of the whole that made me who i am today. we had just begun to tear down our sibling relationship limitations and become friends the year before she died. i think about Becky every day, and often tell her things about my life. this is an odd experience for me, as it is likely the only spiritual activity in my life. i have no real spiritual beliefs to speak of, but i recognize that this is not entirely an action existing in our physical world. i am not going to give the details here, as anyone who knew her already knows their version and everyone else would likely not benefit from mine. i simply want to make mention that this is a traditionally odd/tough day in the midst of our lovely fall, and i suppose i chose to make it public knowledge because i feel that others have "traditionally odd days" as well. i want to say more, but am going to post this before that urge to erase it takes charge.

another one bights the dust

2008-10-15T10:51:00.000-07:00

well that was easy. i went into work this morning and told my boss that I had been offered a teacher's assistant position at psu, and he simply said congratulations! i then had an exit interview at 9am and was out of there a half an hour later.

i will be working for two professors in the sociology department. Margret Everett is a recent arrival to to the soc department, she has taught at psu in the anthropology department foe the past 12 years. her focus is health inequalities in southern Mexico and several regions in South America. the other professor i will be working with is Joshua Bass. his main fields of study are centered around globalization and people of minority status. i am super stoked to learn everything i can from these professors about research and teaching! i am also excited to be a part of an academic faculty that will help me get a better grasp on my own research endeavors. today is a good day!

eavesdropping (this prose is in no way related to my previous post, but to a conversation earlier this afternoon)

2008-10-13T23:00:00.000-07:00

she found out while sitting cozy on the couch with her favorite weekly news rag.
her daughter was fast asleep, and husband off on a frantic book signing tour.
she chose to take the first night alone. the rest of her life would be with their worries.
the cork came easily from that dusted bottle of whine. they had received it as a gift on their wedding day.
the following morning she flexed out a bit of urgency and relayed the life altering message.
amazed she was that mere words could remove the pyramids from their resting place.
desert birds of prey circled over the conversation in with parched pallets.
for the next three years they all prepared for the cancer to win.
she read coming-of-age stories to her daughter each night for an hour.
they were prepared.
at age fourteen, her daughter came-of-age.
she is doing very, very, very well.
her husband tells of their last agreement to one another,
while taking with strangers in well lit cafes.
those were the best three years of either of their lives.

passed present

2008-10-10T16:23:00.000-07:00

i write with some incredibly horrible news today. one of my favorite professors, and a person who was a great inspiration to my future has died recently. Dr. Heather Hartley was taking some time off from her busy schedule of teaching and research this past term, due to a worsening illness. in class this thursday one of my other professors announced that she had committed suicide over the past weekend.
this is a great loss to her five year old daughter, the massive community of people who look up to her, and the rest of the world that will miss out on the fruits of her fabulous research (which included the implementation of female viagra!).
you will be greatly missed Dr. Hartley!

if this is not an inspiring quote, you may want to check your pulse!

2008-10-06T22:09:00.000-07:00

"when it is genuine, when it is born of the need to speak, no one can stop the human voice.
when denied a mouth it speaks with the hands or the eyes, or the pores, or anything at all.
because every single one of us has something to say to the others, something that deserves to be celebrated or forgiven by others."
Eduardo Galeano, "Celebration of the Human Voice"

paul farmer is the bee's knees!

2008-10-06T21:18:00.000-07:00

classes have begun, thus my writing here will likely be sporadic, quick as well as brief. i just wanted to make note of a book i am now reading that is likely the most well written and ordered academic works i have ever had the pleasure to intake. it is titled "pathologies of power: health, human rights, and the new war on the poor" by paul farmer. it is an eloquent piece of art which also serves as an incredible resource for current anthropological educating. enjoy!

across the street

2008-09-28T10:01:00.000-07:00

so it has pointed in a fall-erly direction. by it i mean the earth, and by fall i mean the calming scent of cooler weather and warmer clothing when you remove it from its place on the annual shelf. for the past four years it has been a staunch reminder that school is back in session, and it is time to "come on feel the noise".
cyclocross race season is in full swing, and my ribs have their own fancy little story they could tell about that scenario. i went down hard last week on some cross walk lines after a light rain, and yesterday at a race my ribs were on fire. it's the rib on the upper right side of my torso that ache, so as you can imagine this is making carrying my bike quite the chore.
and now, despite my better judgment, i am off t another race. just wanted to log what the hell was going on before classes begin and i have no time to write for fun.

left and leaving

2008-09-16T13:00:00.000-07:00

please check out this short film. it is an interesting and nuanced take on an over written theme. is also is folowed by a beautiful weakerthans song, if you hadn't guessed.

just cram this into your browser:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hhKuMBkTin8&feature=related

belly ache

2008-09-16T12:19:00.000-07:00

oh my goodness am i sick! myself and five of my team mates came down with a horrible virus after the Pain on the Peak race this weekend. one of these team mates,who is a nurse, did some research and found that we had all contracted the nora virus from penelope.

Norovirus (was "Norwalk-like viruses"), an RNA virus of the Caliciviridae taxonomic family, causes approximately 90% of epidemic non-bacterial outbreaks of gastroenteritis around the world,^[2]^[3] and is responsible for 50% of all foodborne outbreaks of gastroenteritis in the US. Norovirus affects people of all ages. The viruses are transmitted by faecally contaminated food or water and by person-to-person contact.
After infection, immunity to norovirus is usually incomplete and temporary. There is an inherited predisposition to infection and people whose blood type can be detected in their saliva are more often infected.
Outbreaks of norovirus disease often occur in closed or semi-closed communities, such as long-term care facilities, hospitals, prisons, dormitories, and cruise ships where once the virus has been introduced, the infection spreads very rapidly by either person-to-person transmission or through contaminated food. Many norovirus outbreaks have been traced to food that was handled by one infected person.
Norovirus is rapidly killed by chlorine-based disinfectants, but because the virus particle does not have a lipid envelope, it is less susceptible to alcohols and detergents.

Penelope had been sick a few days before, and we all played with her a good amount at the race this weekend. it was a great time away from the city, and a super fun course, but this stomach pain is not worth it. i am going back to sleep!

landmarks (not only for finding your way)

2008-09-08T20:34:00.000-07:00

miss Peneope Beatrice turned fifteen months of age yesterday! she is walking forward and aft, and has begun not to notice so much. that's right, she has been waking for roughly a month now and has already begun the disconnect from consciously recognizing her foot motion. she can now do several things while she walks, without falter.

she also enjoys dancing and rocking back and forth while she laughs. this weekend while spending time with her grandmother, she rocked so far forward while chuckling that she jacked her forehead on a wooden letter-bock and now has a perfectly placed bruise on her dome.

we went to a dog park this weekend and Penelope Beatrice went mad "woofing" at all the k9. she absolutely adores dogs, and communicating with them. at the park, we also played on a swing and slid on the slide. she was so excited about the slide that she began climbing up it from the bottom. awesome weekend baby date!

rose & thistle

2008-08-31T18:58:00.000-07:00

small glass,
sugar,
citrus,
liquor,
ignition,
she said it was the first hot drink of the season,
apologizing profusely as i was, it warmed my belly well,
and slow to consume it, for the bottom means a staggering wait for the six months pissing rains to end,
the clear shown table though holds another cold dark fit,
she could not see in my tired face, the fear growing for the appearance of clean wood grain,
too many others,
long last the reasons for long faces,
glasses,
a smile,
money changing more than hands,
expectations,
air scented a trailer home's perfume,
too much to remember in one sunday,
without the gloss of oak bar room snare, her visage read equivalent,
a brilliant woman,
a couch,
some yarn,
a circular saw,
the memory of deceased k9,
neither wanting to admit the growing taste, tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches,
drink gently,
relax as long as you like,
rest a weary sense of longing to release this annual letdown,
a feeling a kind to the first nail through such tender groomed modern feet,
this is why we love it

homage

2008-08-19T13:27:00.000-07:00

"thanks to t.v. and the convenience of t.v., you can only be one of two kinds of human beings, either liberal or conservative".
kurt vonegut "cold turkey" may 10th 2004

a- “without”, and nomos “law”

2008-08-17T21:34:00.000-07:00

there exists a sea of words that are claimed by the scientific realm we agree to call sociology. many of these terms could belong to any other field of science, but when a scientist from one sect gets a hold of them they create the appearance of ownership, in some right.

one of these terms that remains in a most heated dispute is "anomie", which basically means normlessness or lacking a common idea. every social theorist who uses this term has a slightly unique interpretation of its meaning, but the one directly associated with normlessness is Emile Durkheim. Emile was a structuralist, which explains why theorists from other perspectives would have different interpretations. norms are unspoken social rules that are understood by the vast majority of inhabitants of a society. examples of these would be; keeping a low tone in fine dining establishments, not scoffing when asked for change, smiling at children and elderly, and so forth. norms can run much deeper as well. there are norms attached to every role we play in society, from the way doctors placate patients, bikers wear black and look angry, police officers and clergy pretend to have compassion, sixteen year old anarchist kids all have the same idea of how to be different from everyone else, mail carriers unquestioningly wear shorts in the winter months, and the list could continue for every sub-segment of the human population. these are things that are expected of a person because of the role they choose to or are forced to play in the world. these are not the most relevant examples, but they are also not the point of this particular diatribe.

the point is that i am experiencing some degree of anomie today. or for two days. perhaps it has been a few fortnights. feels like years. i recall being thirteen once, and it may have begun then. it's relatively overt lately. an awful lot is changing, primarily for the good, for me as a person with many roles (person twenty-seven years of age, single father, european american, male-ish, grad student, agnostic, cyclist, vegetarian, serial drinking, egalitarian, east coast sales representative, non-cigarette-smoking, professor wanna-be, poetry lover, bass player, sexually confused, socially awkward and on...) to attend to. this week i moved out of the house my good friend emily kate olson and i brought our daughter home to fourteen months ago. i have a job that bores me to death, but provides healthcare for penelope beatrice and me. my graduate program begins in about a month and i am not sure how i am going to afford it, as the funding was nearly dry by the time i was admitted.
the vein of all this confusion is that i don't have any idea what to expect of myself, or what is expected of me right now. it may be that there are a few too many major changes to deal with at one sitting, as that is definitely the first thought.

i reckon that i am honestly saying that if you (i think only one of my fans still reads this rag) see me any time soon, and i seem to be a bit lost, i likely am. you should hug me and invite me to tea. another symptom of this anomie is that you get insecure and may come off a touch defensive about being touched. the truth of the matter is that touch is all i want right now. some human contact that is genuine in some way at all. must be insecure if i am alerting my needs in a forum no one will ever see. huh?
so now that i have obligated you, be sure to make that genuine, eh? i kid. i realize now that this sounds a lot like i am depressed, but i don't think that is the case at all this time. just incredibly lost like never before, and a little frightened. i hear we need that every now and again.

snake juice

2008-08-01T10:13:00.000-07:00

off to bend, oregon this weekend for a full weekend of bike racing goodness at the "high desert omnium". it's been too long since i have spent a weekend outside the bubble that is Portland. i am looking forward to some r&r in the sweet clean desert air, when not racing. time to finish some book reading that has been on hold. yeah!

just a thought

2008-07-29T13:51:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday Nelson Mandela!!!

2008-07-18T10:19:00.000-07:00

"Nelson Mandela, the man credited with ending apartheid in South Africa, has marked his 90th birthday by calling for the rich to do more for the poor." (bbc.co.uk)

not only on the moon!

2008-07-14T21:01:00.000-07:00

penelope beatrice walked her way across the filthy kitchen floor this evening! seven steps in all, for a lifetime achievement award well awaited! it's true, my kid is a rockstar!

nothing was broken

2008-07-12T17:05:00.000-07:00

i went out last night with some of my bike team mates, and had the most ridiculously good time! we drank until we could no longer hold a drink well enough to continue, and ended it all at my house where we sat in a circle and shared some odd malt beverage as others might share a pipe. in the morning, three of us woke up at my place and sauntered out into the daylight for breakfast at hungry tiger too. it has made for one amazing weekend! oh, and we each smoked a cigarette which was a hilarious sight because none of us have smoked in years and we were coughing like mad.

i have recently been reminded that when i work forty plus hours a week, the quality of time off is far more important than it would otherwise be. i have to wait five days to have this much time again, and i want it to be as well spent as possible.

there is no real point to this blog, i just wanted to remember that i am thankful for good friends and a good time spent in the limited space i have. oh, and work is for suckers!

omaha, nebraska

2008-07-06T22:33:00.000-07:00

maria taylor's show at the doug fir last night was nothing short of incredible. maria played drums in the second opening act, and followed with a long eloquent set riddled with her intelligent banter and wit. i believe maria taylor to have the most amazing voice in music today, and anyone who has not had a chance to check out her new ep should do so. her songs have grown more eclectic, as has the lineup of her band.
thanks omaha!

2008-07-04T16:09:00.000-07:00

not all too into cars, but right now all i want to do is drive across canada on a mission to find the islands of the eastern coast. road trip anyone? particularly someone i've never met or have not hung out with for a long while?

it's about time (take II)

2008-06-28T14:23:00.000-07:00

so, i procured a job. i now work at Yakima Products, which is the company that makes those racks people put on their automobiles to carry bikes, skis, kayaks, canoes, and what ever other activity gear they may have. essentially, i answer phones and take dealer orders from folks on the east coast of the u.s.. i also give consumers technical information, issue warranty stuff, and sell replacement parts. the computer system we use is in unix (sp?), and looks like what an auto parts person uses to look the availability of your headlight bulb fluid. it's fairly rad. i have never used such a non user friendly software before. makes it a bit more fun. i may be able to move soon with this new gig.

so stuff is sort of looking up, up here where i am.

still not sure about grad school. i nearly doubled my gre score, but have not yet heard if it was high enough, o if the position is still open in the program. waiting.

it's about time

2008-06-28T13:59:00.000-07:00

congratulations california for finally legalizing and recognizing gay marriage!
how is it that such a fucked up state can be one of the first to make such a progressive move for civil liberties. interesting.
i'm not a huge fan of marriage, as it is traditionally and historically a misogynistic religious institution, still i am far less a fan of unequal rights and opportunities.

i hope, as a latent function of all of this, it will now be a bit easier for folks to gain citizenship through marriage. newly immigrated people will have more partners to choose from if they arrive in the usa via california.
in the end, california's decision to legalize and recognize gay marriages could be a positive note for everyone.
it may even give our two presidential candidates something to debate, as they currently have ridiculously similar platforms existing in what the media calls the "center" of what should be called the far right (if we are to use their inaccurate spectrum model).

on a separate note, what the hell is with the district of columbia legalizing 'in home' hand gun ownership for citizens. did they forget that more hand guns equal more violent crime? ah the supreme court system. one step forward, and then back again. it's like a children's game.

peanuts on parade

2008-06-09T16:56:00.000-07:00

penelope beatrice celebrated her first year of life this saturday! she did not smear the cupcakes and brownies I made her all over her face, and in fact hardly ate them. she was much more into vegetables and what not. both sets of grand parents attended, which made for an interesting debacle once all the older kids started soaking up their tequila. bunz spent the majority of the day playing in the grass and on the living room floor with random people who came over to wish her a happy birthday.

somehow we missed neglected to celebrate emily's (penelope's mother) experience, now one year past. we didn't talk much about that after penelope was off to bed the rest of us continued to celebrate her birth with booze and bonn-fire. one element i think it is important to address is the celebration of emily's (penelope'semily did one year ago on that day, but it was one of the most incredible actions i have ever seen another person experience. no doubt, it was further enhanced by the fact that i could never experience such a thing. i understand the cultural importance of the new child, but is it not equally important and courteous to acknowledge the work of the child's mother. emily's body changed more than it ever has, or likely will, in such a short expanse of time. her emotions shifted, reversed, and became new. everything in her life changed for the better, and for the worse. her life is so different now that our amazing, everlasting relationship is in a state of severe ill-repair. condemned, were it a building, hazardous to swimmers, were it a stream. such a grandiose affect on the life of one person deserves a high level of appreciation and reflection. so thanks emily! thanks for going through everything that went during that whole process. you are one tough lady!

walking is still...

2008-06-02T23:41:00.000-07:00

feeling this way, sometimes, is all-right.
this way, feeling, sometimes is all-right.
all-right, sometimes, is feeling this way.
feeling sometimes, this way, is all-right.
sometimes feeling this way , is all-right.
all-right, is feeling this way, sometimes.
feeling all-right, this way, is sometimes.

second row, fourth from the rear

2008-06-02T17:41:00.000-07:00

so you go to college, with the intention of excommunicating yourself from food service employment. possibly with the intention that after all of this intensive inundation of knowledge you might have the option of choosing an occupation, rather than settling for shit.

no dice friend. a bachelor's degree will do nothing for you today. least of all a degree in the social sciences.

back to the addiction codling food service industry it is.

you have heard the story you now recite, and still it is news to you. should you have listened more closely? is it acceptable that you sought a college degree based on your romantic ideals, and not on any pragmatic reasoning of the future? must be so, since you are signed up for a second tour of duty.

now to convince myself that minimum wage, plus tips, is exciting and new. could be. but will it pay rent, childcare and bills? we shall see.

not much of a fun blog. stuff is not all that fun right now. try back later.

two cans and one piece of string

2008-05-08T22:05:00.000-07:00

the leaves are back. it's a sound only they can create, & a sensation in my esophagus only they can create. so thankful am i that the trees have bloomed again. if only it would become warm in this rainy state, i would too.

having a drink at a local hole named "the red flag" this evening, and i thinking back on the day/month/decade, as if there were time for all of that, about some things that were said between friends that did not (could not?) come true. not mere lip-service, rather words spoken through tears on hugged shoulders. most of them for that matter. not that long term planning and expectations of things in life is a plausible or worthwhile endeavor, still, I meant those hugs & tears.

telephones work both ways, locomotives travel in both directions, email & text are virtually free, and transitory seasons make me nostalgic. these things can be said for certain.

these hugs and tears were shared with folks i still consider my lifelong cohort, and on occasion it saddens me that i have grown to think of them nearly as seldom as they do me. as we grow older there is such an ever burgeoning in-box that i can't see over often enough to the folks i would otherwise miss. it is as if caring becomes an obligation i have placed aside for a day with deeper motivation. those days rarely come. for example, i am referencing them in seasons rather then days/weeks/or months. it's not as if the friends i am referring to have been replaced by new friends. rather, the convenience of our relationships is fleeting, and being replaced with new obligations.

and this is springtime.

kind of a big day

2008-04-30T21:45:00.000-07:00

Albert Hofmann, the Swiss chemist who discovered the hallucinogenic drug lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD) died today, aged 102 years.

not the best hallucinogenic substance, nor the most reliable, but were it not for this invention world of pop culture and a bevy of other phenomenon would be far different from what they are today. i would be a touch different from who i am today. not saying i would ever touch the juice of Satan's loin, but let's fuckin' face it, i was sixteen once just like the rest of you (& to top it off, i was living in a small town with not much else to do)! it's no assuage for your post work week blues, but i hear it can open you up to some new possibilities. no. really. i hear it!

not one to gloat or find glee for the dead i never met. rather, this day should be remembered merely for the good things he brought to one and all. for it is unto us, that he gave his only begotten visions...

i am a grad student!

2008-04-17T16:34:00.001-07:00

i received an email today telling me that i have been accepted to the master's program in the sociology department at PSU. yes i cried. this clears up a load of issues which would have otherwise created some huge problems for me. it is also incredibly exciting because I have a ridiculous amount of research ideas waiting to be explored/funded. i am far too excited to type any further, so this will have to do. YEAH!!!!!!!!!

i am not a doormat. i'm a door prize!

2008-04-14T20:21:00.000-07:00

well folks, it look as if this kid may some day find employment after all. after nearly four weeks of solid job searching and resume re-working, i received two interview offers today. the first is with a non-profit called Stand for Children. stand is a grass roots advocacy organization that helps school raise public funding and change funding policy concerning children's activities. this would be a great opportunity to work for something more than a paycheck, and would also be a good thing to put on my applications for grad school. the second is a desk position at a local drug and alcohol rehabilitation center called DePaul Treatment Centers. honestly i would prefer this job over the former, primarily because it i closer to the populations of folks i would like to research in the future. i will take either position, and it is really nice to have two openings at once. this way i don't have to go in to the interview all nervous and seem needy. i can enter the situation with the confidence that i can get either job, and will take the one which seems the most interesting. i didn't think anyone was ever going to contact me. the non-profit industry in portland is ridiculously competitive, and flooded with people in my same position. now if i could just hear something from grad school i could start to have some idea of what life will look like for the next year. i'm truly fortunate that these are the things i have to worry about, rather than where my next meal is coming from or if i will be raped while walking to church at night. i'm a fucking lucky person!

catchup. tid-bitz and etcetera. penelope is crawling, talking a bit, and is the only baby alive in the world. emily is rocking a huge term with like 89 credits or something ludicrous like that, and is a bit overwhelmed. she is handling it well though, with booze and friends to cope. we have two roommates right now. jared smith, who i have lived with before, is in the basement on banjo and harp. emily's friend cheryl is upstairs on the shoe percussion backup performance. so thanks to that situation we are saving a truckload of money right now. i graduated from psu a few weeks ago. no big party yet, but that will definitely come if i get into grad school.

enough for now. gerow is signing off for the evening. sweet dreams.

i am rupert murdoch's private mistress.

2008-03-19T19:08:00.000-07:00

i do not have a myspace, facebook, or any other sort of social networking account. word on the street is that one or more of my friends may have created a page for me on one of these sites. these are pages created by my fans who love me dearly, and wish to have their names dropped in my blog. not going to happen. this kid has no web dedications aside from this ever famous publication.

i don't want to support rupert murdoch in any way (aside from his occasional tryst), have no desire to waste more time on my computer, already communicate with friends on the level i can handle, am a closet neo-luddite, and find a delicious self-righteous gratification in excluding myself from activities everyone else i know does. oh yeah, being a self-righteous asshole is still rad!
furthermore, i don't have any "friends back home" who need to find me in the either.

i realize it is libelous to admit my affairs with my pet rupert, but it's only because he will never admit it.

so, am i a sociologist yet?

2008-03-14T20:10:00.000-07:00

i don't actually care to answer that question. as many of my faithful readers know, i find these lines we draw between sciences and disciplines to be quite problematic.

i completed my final two courses to earn a "bachelor of arts in sociology with a minor in black studies" degree this afternoon. i guess i am officially graduated, although i am not attending a ceremony and my diploma will not be mailed to me until a few months from now.

supposedly i am excited. this is what everyone tells me anyhow. the truth of the matter is that i can not tear my mind away from getting into graduate school long enough to enjoy this moment. between finding a descent occupation to bide my time and waiting for the disappointing letter carrier's delivery every day i can not force myself to get excited about graduating. and it's not only that. the extreme devaluation of the bachelor's degree in our post-modern society is really getting me down. it doesn't have much of an affect on my getting a job. it is essentially portrayed as the new high-school diploma for people in my demographic, and we all know what those are worth these days. i'm so focused on the carrot at the end of the stick that i am missing sight of the process of reaching it. we call this progress, but it feels more like numbness.

then i hear how pessimistic and defeatist this all reads, and begin to realize that i don't need to let anxiety get the best of me. i'm going to enjoy this if it kills me! i worked my ass off for the past four years, and should be proud i found the top of this hill. four years ago i went to college because i wacked off my index finger and did not have any desire to work any longer. it was college or houselessness for this cat. no way did i believe it would last. i have the faith in phenomenon i would imagine an earwig to hold (not ten times their weight). i am more intelligent for it, more understanding, articulate, ready, and willing to chew through buildings. this blog will hopefully not be as celebratory as this thing gets (my countless readers know how i feel about internet activism and celebration). there should be a gathering and incinerating of various articles of furniture and clothing in the near future. this will likely be followed by some "i love you" and the reciprocal "i love you too" statements. or so i would only expect. for now this business should come to a close. i have big things to get in my mix of! that is not code for "diapers to change". although, that is also true. L'Chaim!

stop!

2008-03-12T22:41:00.000-07:00

it will come and go, and i will miss it-
miss it because i am looking for something else-
or have no notion of what to be looking for-
likely because i give it a specific name before it exists-
i paint it before it is able to be conceptualized-
i listened to the cues of what i "should" be feeling-
and for the remainder of time in this life i will think it is in the future-
never wondering if it went by unnoticed-
it will-
the best day of my life will likely not be acknowledged-

(*&^%

2008-03-11T11:06:00.000-07:00

as they said it would be, she traded her notebooks for foreign film collection and the newest of coats-

painted old walls to rename spaces and when dry applied a second and forth-

seeing old statues with pock marks galore, mold growing places we’d never explore-

she had a want to keep a fist in the air-

overlooked by the comfort of waiting room’s conditioned air-

Regarding: "Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center" by bell hooks

2008-03-06T21:23:00.000-08:00

in her chapter on revolutionary parenting, bell hooks wrote about public ideals toward motherhood and love. she addressed the societal belief that every woman is expected to have a natural love for and connection with children. on the contrary, some mothers do not love their children, some fathers love their children more than mothers, some children do not love their parents, some people have no desire to relate to children in any way. hooks was writing about the sociology of love and emotions in this section, and made a clear point that gendered assumptions regarding children and love are often bias and false. the fact that you are related to someone does not enact love, nor does being a parent or child. some people feel love through the obligatory connection of blood relationships, some need time and experience to feel love for another person, and still others have their own personal parameters which create what they consider a loving relationship. as it is a bonding agent of some of the most intimate forms of social integration, i appreciate it when theorists address ideas of love in society.

i honestly enjoyed this book, and have recommended it to several friends. It does not hold a definite answer to the centuries old issues of sexist oppression, however, bell hooks, in her genius way, writes a foundation to build further theory and active participatory movements on.

f8%dm3is:k = ?

2008-02-26T13:45:00.000-08:00

so we don't just procreate, eh?
[in the culture i live in, at the time i am living in it, relationships are quantified based on a variety of criteria including: level of physical activity, shared ancestry, shared DNA, amount of time spent together, as well as many other quantifiable indicators.]

"intimate relationships", for folks born into the generation I was, are often initiated and perpetuated/bolstered through a variety of forms of sexual activity. all of mine have been. i recently discussed this point with a good friend, and we came to the conclusion that he simply didn't like this story, but could not deny it. all of the people either of us have been acquainted with, on a level which facilitated conversations concerning their relationships and sexual activities, fit into this generalization. clearly there are exceptions to this umbrella statement, but i am concerned only with the trend of a majority population of the generation.
as physical or intellectual attraction is the genesis of most "intimate relationships" it seems plausible that a more physical manifestation of that attraction would be the next-first-step. "the glue that bonds us" one might say. so what happens when the glue is gone?

in my parents generation, and even more-so those before, there was a hyper-real picture of what a person's life is supposed to become. the "american dream" if you will. much of the hyper-real (or fantasy driven) value system attached to this "dream" was rooted in patriarchal-monotheistic religious sets of values (coupled with a genuine fear of procreation). previous cultures created their "family" unit of social integration by means of arranged marriage, polygamous, polyamorous and endless other forms of "relationship" creating styles, as a means of integrating "families" and continuing the homo-sapien species. as our society is becoming increasingly secular (if only on the surface and outside of major politics) those values are of slowly declining importance. however, religion is only one of several factors affecting the shift in the paradigms concerning relationship building (nearly all of these factors were based on power, dominance, and control). possibly of greater importance is the advent of the incredibly magical cure, birth control. blessed is thy name! birth control saves lives! where the hell is the male version already?

so what happens when the glue is gone? if the relationship is bonded by sex, the sex is lacking, time for new sex? who knows? time for the relinquishment of monogamous controls and restrictions? possibly. time to find sex some place else while you find a new bonding agent for the relationship which was entirely based on sex from its inception? possibly. time to stop making a connection between sex and love? shouldn't that notion have come first? was the reason for attaching emotions to sex because it traditionally would have created a child and eventually a family? very possibly. do we have sex to create children and families in this generation?

postscript: i realize that there is a great deal of historical-context and fact missing from this little blog, but i feel that my million-strong reader base is intelligent and has no desire to read what they already know. furthermore, this rant is only mine. everyone deserves a place where they can feel confident.

7th grade "junior high"

2008-02-14T07:36:00.000-08:00

it's not quite a hole, but it is pretty large.
more intentional, like an incision.
i can't see the bottom, which indicates that it has quite a depth.
not to make too much sense of it. it is just a space with nothing in it.
it has no time precedence, no non-spuriousness, and is on no level correlated.

there is however a thesis-antithesis-synthesis triad apparent in this space.
it may have began like a window: tectonic plate, rock shard, pebble, sand, and the melt.
or a glass of gin: grain, juniper berries, distillery, cask, bottle, frozen water, throat.
yes, gin is closer. i like the amalgamation essence.
it's definitely a creole.

what the fuck.
did it not just explain to me that it makes no empirical sense?
must it?
this may require more thought.
not everything is empirically describable.
some shit is just that.

think of england

2008-02-05T22:15:00.000-08:00

as a young person i looked up to my elders and longed to be thought of as an adult. thought people would take me more seriously. as an adult i regularly look back and wish i could re-experience parts of my childhood. it's a simple concept that comes up all too often.
i live in a society which has no formal "right of passage" for either gender. because it is not pathetic enough to assume there are only two genders! we often treat women like they are children, devaluing their millions of essential contributions to society, until they are at a life stage where they are no longer able to produce offspring (menopause). after this stage the cultural norm is to devalue women ever more by making them appear to be crazy in everything they say and do. i call bullshit! women are the only reason anything happens for any of us, and we should all have the utmost respect for them. this pagan is pissed!
i'm not sure what the right of passage is for men, but there is a point in their young lives when they gain an unearned respect which only grows with age. men in modern western cultures have an ascribed status of power and control which they have no need to even acknowledge. most men go through their entire lives using their unearned power to its fullest extent and never thinking of why the power dynamic exists. on this i also call bullshit! this pagan is pissed! there is no plausible reason a person should be able to control others, and particularly not through means of power they don't even take the time to understand.
i realize that this is also a simple idea, but i needed to vent and have no illusion that anyone actually reads this stream of consciousness anyway. nor should they i suppose.
the juice of juniper has kissed me once again, and i enjoyed every morsel of that embrace. FUCK OFF DOMINANCE!!!

"look at my hands" J.K.S.

2008-02-02T22:20:00.000-08:00

someone called me charming the other day. what an incredibly endearing and uplifting thing to say to someone. honestly, it felt like a unicorn-laden-rainbow-enema for my soul.
i do not interact with any large number of people, and choose to place a weighty amount of importance on the folks i do get a chance to spend my time with. not sure if i'v written this before but as people go i'm quite an awkward one. for quick example, as a wee lad, i asked the person i went on my first date with if i could hold her hand while viewing a film. shortly there after she dumped me because i was too prude for her taste.
i believe my friend simply flung this compliment in mid sentence and has no idea what affect it had on me, but it will make my week and some.
i'm painfully awkward for a good reason. it has forced me to make intense relationships with the folks i find comfort with. thanks amigo!

life should be a series hugs

2008-02-01T16:58:00.000-08:00

a bath is just like a hug, only it touches you entire outer self, a small piece of the inner, and there are no bony jabs or questioned intentions. yes my friends, a bath is a full body hug. this sentence should be spoken in a monotone, with a pitch drop for the last two syllables. and no freud, it has nothing to do with my family and their or my sexual desires. who gave that guy so much credit in the first place?

i've been taking a bath nearly ever other day this winter. not because i don't care about wasting water, and not because i am soiled from the long days toil. there is nothing even remotely utilitarian about this bathing I'm into.
if everyone has a vice, this is currently mine. nothing feels better than a crazy hot bunch of water along with a good book. other than a crazy hot bunch of water, a great book and a glass of bubbles.

I bath because it's a bloody frigid winter, because i drink an awful lot otherwise, because it feels like it is mine, because i am awkward, because i have a lot of homework, the train is late, the check was mailed, relationships become sower, because seeds don't always catch on, because people don't always mean the same thing, and most of all because it feels better than anything else i do just now.

and another thing. what is this business that my skin is somehow water proof and simultaneously composed of 70% H2O. i officially choose not to believe that line any longer. what do these physical (hard) scientists know about the workings of the world anyhow? social "soft" and fuzzy) sciences are where it's at, and i am calling this waterproof story a social construction of reality. those bath molecules are intermingling with my molecules and having a circus for the tub.

could someone please bring me a towel?

a tablecloth

2008-01-29T11:15:00.000-08:00

if you continue to go on about anything and more-
blink as if the world already had a soda-
spill pure intelligence and chuckle as it falls to the floor-
be my lost and found for the second first time-
it will still end up on the floor-
this is a tendency of very heavy things-
for once, we are not to blame

off to class!

2008-01-28T09:01:00.000-08:00

at coffee with a friend yesterday the question of work experience came up. i told her about the jobs i have hated and why i decided to attend college. this reminded me of something incredibly important.
i complain a great deal. i'm a nerd, and i whine about many things that are likely entirely irrelevant to the general population of the world. i even complain about school: wishing i had a day off in the week to relax, coveting the day i can make money instead of borrow it, and carrying on about visions of nights without homework. it's quite romantic.
as often as i may complain about college, i love it. i have the opportunity to learn something new every single day of my life! at this point in my academic career i even have the chance to create and convey my own thoughts. most importantly, i have a soul. i can feel things dans mon coeur. i can appreciate people and the world around me. i could not do any of these things to any noticeable level when i was working the jobs i have hated. many of my friends who work full time can not say the same about themselves. the irrationality of rationality, or what ever it can be called, i am going to stay in college until i find an occupation which is sufficient to allow me to learn every day as i am now. this idle mind crap is for suckers. i've already been a sucker once in this lifetime, and will not be enlisted for a second tour. i'm going to class now!

some western style haiku

2008-01-24T21:35:00.000-08:00

you forgot
flames look
like flowers

earth is changing
and you
are at a traffic-light

give color
in place of second
chance endeavor.

In her mother
she spoke softly
all of the sea.

It’s not a mellon
but a captured place
we sleep now.

Why are there
now no longer
footed pajamas?

Cryptic sleep
talking of antique
typewriter key stroked.

L'chaim and every last rail spike (plus du poetry)

2008-01-24T21:31:00.000-08:00

what a fortnight could devour if we let it
how you divulge the things I masticate in fear
every wrinkle your face takes pride in gives glee for

Astrid with your steady eyes inside my still shaking child’s hand
you ate the wall I masquerade my life behind and shit a pillar for too many a goddess to count

had it right, the baby, my lover, the rest to come
had your accuracy smashed the teeth of this city
endless effort left for picking up the pieces and continuing the track

Say Astrid, was that a focused action
or did you accidently predict the point I would bolster and come clean

another abstraction I know I should recall
your entrails polished publically for proof and reconciliation
it took a nation in the past

it took Astrid less than sixteen hours

morning's slow roast (yet another poem)

2008-01-24T21:28:00.000-08:00

He knows nothing of her lovers from abroad, and she’s not at liberty to disclose-
just a fresh copy of the “Times” is happiness in his wilted hands-
her cell phone has worn a grove in her left earlobe that well resembles Lake Michigan-
its won one could say-
a technological struggle for sentience, long overlooked-
she’s originally from a petit mountain town in the icy northern reaches of Manitoba-
in a near-by city a “famous person” who goes by the name Timothy once said,
“turn on, tune in, drop out”
neither of them subscribe to that idealism-
nor any tame rendition thereof-
on the contrary, both toiled long to reach their coveted strata-
neither can hear the rushing life of spring-
the pair together have more capital than the U.S. state of Mississippi-
they may have lost the smile for looking at other people-
each other included-
but they’re very sorry for that-
what they have now is to combine and hold still-
breath in and feel it for the first time in years-
she remembers his mother’s maiden name
the two are on their way to the beach

cochlea follicles

2008-01-24T13:36:00.000-08:00

a good number of my close male friends are loosing their hair at a lightning pace. there are three fellows in particular who have obtained either the triple-V forehead pattern or the halo of skin on the rear head deal. i have not yet come to this physical change in any way, nor am i likely to ever experience the growing of skin on my head.
in trade i have developed some fairly serious hearing loss issues which are slowly beginning to have a negative affect on my life. recently, i have been working with a group of students on a content analysis research project. We are analyzing mainstream and alternative written media biases in portland. this process has given me the opportunity to get to know some new people in my social research course. i have also had the pleasure of realize that i can not hear what people are saying to me as well as other people seem to hear the same conversation. this learning process does not play out so well when you are trying to get to know folks. most people tend to have it in their hearts to repeat themselves once, and may smile with a second repetition. after the second try, people often become annoyed, and reevaluate the relevance of their statement or inquiry. following this is likely the reevaluation of their relationship with me. this situation has lead me to the ever pathetic act of pretending I hear what someone has said to me. in order to skip the trouble of repetition i simply nod my my head and hope for he best. not a great plan, but it's all i'v got for right now. some day a hearing apparatus will be necessary...if ever i have health insurance.
the ultimate reason behind all of this hearing impairment has been entirely worth the recent consequences. the first loud music concert i attended was Varuca Salt and PJ. Harvey at age thirteen at the gorge @ gorge, washington. i was with my best friends (love you both!) in the warm northwest summer's sun, had a bit of the drink, and began my lifelong legacy with loud music. a couple of years later i joined a band, and have been crammed in small rooms playing music as loud as possible ever since. it is those twelve years or more, three bands, cramped poorly ventilated practice spaces, and a genuine belief that earplugs make me sing poorly that lead me to murder a god portion of the army of follicles in my cochlea. i'm quite confident that i would be less pleased with the hair loss my male friends are experiencing than my condition. at least i get to tell a fun story about my hair loss. all they have is genetics.

Waltzing Matilda

2008-01-22T12:52:00.000-08:00

yes, this song has such a degree of folklore buildup that it was awarded its own museum, Waltzing Matilda Centre in Winton, Queensland. this is not the point.
it's been south pole cold in portland the last few days, which has made it difficult to take penelope beatrice out into the world to learn. she is a sponge for the observational knowledge of our world, and can't be hampered by the frigid winds. maybe the mail person was in fact the late Ernest H. Shakelton , returning only to sire a daughter with his curiosity of a puffin. or is this just how children are?
people don't include stories or even a folklore legend for that matter. it's all untraveled trial by crying. or is it fire?
alas, we have been riding the max downtown to the end of fairless square, only to walk across the red bricks and ride back to where we came from. along the way we are privy to some unintentional easy dropping and the occasional conversation. the ease dropped info can truly span the gambit: work relations, drug relations, breakfast plans, sex plans, and even conversations with no apparent listener present.
as for the conversation part, it all generally revolves around penelope beatrice and what she looks like. as i understand it, once you become a parent your brains and heart turn to shit and no one wants to talk to or about you any longer.
the best part of all of this is watching folks search for signs of penelope beatrice's gender or sex. most people don't know what to call her, and i love watching their discomfort in trying to get around the gendered portion of their comments. it has given me conviction to help her remain as androgynous as possible. i think the key is to teach her the joy of observing the reactions of others as they try to find a culturally appropriate way to approach her in conversation.
if nothing else, this experiment will give her something to talk to a therapist about in the future, and we all know therapists are experiencing a shortage of childhood scars to mend.

!does bird a as

2008-01-19T13:00:00.000-08:00

.whistler a not if nothing am i
.thing a have each we said is it
!thing my is this

C'est tres bien!

2008-01-18T16:37:00.001-08:00

"so like i met her right, and she was like totally normal and really nice", said the clown. it has always seemed odd to me that so many people i talk with have this notion about celebrities being different than anyone else just because folks know their names. we attach nearly the same level of importance to "famous people" as we do to female breasts in western culture. also, both are equally used to fuel consumerism. the bubble bursting truth is that breasts are just tissue that some people have and celebrities are just people who were in the right place at the right time. get over it already.
so that is my take on that. given my ideals regarding "the popular ones" i typically take the liberty to talk with them like any other person. in this i have found a flaw in my thinking. if the particular celebrity is a songwriter or creator of something personal there may be a different connection between myself and the person. not to say that celebrities are different people at that point, rather that there is a different relationship dynamic. i recently met jeremy enigk of sunny day real-estate at a show. i intended to talk with him after the show and tell him how i greatly enjoy the music he makes. the issue is that, having listened to his music since puberty, i feel a personal connection with him as a person. this connection has never actually been made. it was the first time i met the fellow and i found myself telling him very personal things related to his song writing. in this way i was not at all treating him like any other cat on the prowl. sorry jeremy. i will now not be blaming the many gin & tonics i gulped, as they had no say in the whole mess. i recently made the switch from cerveza to booze, and have yet to understand the quantity coefficient.

diagram sequential (a prose poem of sorts)

2008-01-17T18:44:00.000-08:00

she spoke ever so eloquently-
a story of babysitting little brothers in her older sister's hand-me-down dress-
drink the water that's run through some seven seas, millions of generations, and a field-
studying francais to know the tongue of ancestors she wishes she was-
history as a second acquisition with the legs of a whale-
but legs would sooner ascend Everest than atop the threshold of her swimming pool-
"this whale will not", she proclaimed, "return to the salty waters have grown fallow"-
it's truly intellect and the discovery and creation of new knowledge that keep legs a walking-
the story she told was of a stick in the spokes-
broke the lynch-pin and sent life a nice letter-
it may be the best drink she has ever drank, but she knows where that water has been-
where the water is headed is of great importance-
a vow to never return is intended to stand firm-
a sunset never photographed lit a fire pink puddle in the drive

genesis or "the deflowering"

2008-01-17T17:54:00.000-08:00

alas, i have given in to the urge to write it all down. as this is my first blog is feel compelled to divulge something about me. i'm not going to follow that impulse just yet. i can not see how it would make anything i have to type any more plausible or clear. i'd rather recall how much i love to write, read and most of all observe.
it snowed this morning whilst i was on a bike ride in NE portland, and i do believe i fell in love with every last flake as they attached themselves to my jacket and tyres. the delicate sort of snow that only falls when it is incredibly too cold. the cars stop carrying, street lights extinguish, elderly folks take the day off, addicts take a ciesta, professors phone it in. i was reminded of a time in my childhood when i shoveled my grandparents carport roof once weekly. four feet of frozen goodness at eight clams an hour is a swell time. pining for a break from the city, as i was, this was the perfect memory to revive my frozen bones.
likely i should end this thing before it turns into stream of consciousness hocus-pocus. i've already deleted enough of that.
L'Chaim!