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...i'm building a garden, to sing me to sleep...
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in the "...she's oleacae..." journal:[<< Previous 20 entries]
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05:46 pm
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New Project
When I start missin' you, I think about the tree down the street we liked. The tree was younger then like us, I guess. Twenty years ain't nothing to a human though and it sure as hell ain't nothing to a tree. We couldn't carve our names into it or nothin' but we could walk by it and love it for its honesty, it's beauty, the way its heavy arms defeated gravity every moment of the day, the unexhaustable beauty it grasped. There was something we could not possess even though we collected its needles, its cones. Though those old damn cones always fell apart later, being it the kinda tree that produced cones to fall apart and fly away. It would never know its humans or nothing but maybe that's what it was all about: lettin' go. Those needles were prickly little things too. I don't think we ever properly identified it like we thought we would either. After collecting over and over again, sneaking around someone's yard we never met. You think at some point we'd want to meet the planters or even think of 'em but come to think of it now, I never thought of any of that. Tree's been pruned now. Growin' old and sloppy the owners just clip and trim until it looks all perfect again but I've heard it woulda looked just fine in the first place if they'd never of touched it at all. Feel like I've been pruned too. Everything I've lost feels like a limb. But humans the lucky ones, ya see. They got a million limbs just like those big old trees and they lose 'em too but no one ever sees 'em. Not a one. No, we humans got a lot of secrets. When we lose enough limbs, we just look kinda heavy and sunken. We get a look about our eyes and our skin sort of turns until we die altogether. We all old now, I guess. Eighty years is a lot to a human but it ain't nothin' to a tree. Now I go visit the beast with a hint of embarrassment, the eyes of that ancient creature still young. I think now about those planters and all the others that'll see this thing one day. I think about it a lot now, think about all those things I never thought of, and nothing comforts me like lookin' at that tree. Yes, so young and still so brave defying gravity and all. So young and so brave and much more willin' than I ever was to lose all those limbs and still be beautiful.
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01:53 pm
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how i feel today!
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11:57 am
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Rough Draft of main part of presentation for this weekend's journaling workshop---so nervous!!
"I’ve been journaling in one form or another since I was a little kid. This(pick up tiny red journal) is actually my first journal. I was a little unsure about the idea for a long time before I finally went for it and I wrote very small entries so this little journal lasted for years. What began to happen though was a realization that reflection was more than just remembering what happened to me that day. Reflection turned me into a collector and you can see traces of the beginnings to that concept even in this first journal. I taped some of my last lost teeth in here. It meant more to me to collect those teeth rather than trade them in for money from the tooth fairy. I was starting to place the meaning of moments in my life into the objects within that time. Words were not enough. So here’s my first collection journal. This lasted up until high school when I started my second collection. And the power of these journals is always discovered when looking back.
First thing you need to think about when entering the world of reflection is that you are communicating with your future self. This second collection journal was built on a promise never to remove anything from it. You can’t always trust your present instincts on what’s important. Going beyond words has a way of diminishing the possibility of your future self not respecting the past, which is something that we’re scared of: our future self making fun of us. I can’t stand to read the journals that I wrote in during these time periods. In middle school, my written journals were dramatic, focused on boys, focused on things that don’t tell me about what I was really like inside. Whereas, these collections tell me about the heart and soul of me during these times. These journals are my faces of honesty. You have to be honest in reflection. The whole point of reflecting is, in the end, to know yourself.
And why is this important? To know yourself gives you the ability to know others. You will never be able to know anyone any better than you know yourself. So you can ask yourself how far you’re willing to go.
But what is this doing for the world? This is my favorite part. All of this up here, these journals, paintings, this diorama, all of it is my personal history. And each journal, each painting is an artifact. I can study the culture of myself by looking at each of these artifacts, by studying them. Other people can study my culture through these artifacts as well. And the people I want to do this are my family. I want to add to the history of my family. Generations from now, these artifacts will communicate my culture, my life. And so, if there becomes a family history, that effects the history of this area of the world. Think of each of us reflecting on our pasts throughout our lives and think of that domino effect of generations passing by, creating family histories. That mass of knowledge becomes a cultural history of our civilization. We are, in fact, impacting the history of the world during this time period.
That seems huge, but think about it this way. What we know of past cultures and their civilizations comes from what they revealed to us in art and writing. So when I talked earlier about reflection being a communication portal for your present self and your future self, it’s also about communicating with future generations of our species. A personal history impacts family history, which, in turn, impacts the history of our national culture, our world culture, our species. My favorite part of studying history is always the really nitty-gritty details of everyday life. I don’t like generalizing an entire period of time. I like to know about the dramas, the way rooms looked, the way people spoke, and what they ate. That’s the power of people like you and me reflecting."
Feel inspired?
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08:15 pm
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Travelling
So much movement!
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04:46 pm
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So Ridiculous
I'm in Bellingham right now. I was supposed to drive down to my mother's in Seattle and play diorama today, but someone double parked me!!!! I worked on some other projects and went for a long walk. They finally left but now I'm not leaving until tomorrow.
The walk was beautiful. You'd love Boulevard Park, I think; it's right along the water. The sky was like a watercolor painting as the sun set. Now to stretch and work on p-er-o-jects.
p.s. do you think you'd ever want to send me a business card, Ms. Gidseg? I might need a photographer some day, you know---that'll be one way to get you up here :)
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12:24 pm
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Diorama!
I'm going to make a diorama today! With photographs from a road trip my mom and I took this summer over to Idaho. It wasn't actually the best trip ever...but I don't want to ignore it and, gees, regardless, we really took great photos.
I will post the finished product!
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06:10 pm
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Lonely
It is stranger than I thought it would be to have over half of my stuff in storage, to not really have a place that is entirely for me. I roam from Dan's to Mom's and now I'll be off to Sarah's in Portland for a couple weeks---if you write me, send it to 716 N. Russett St, Portland OR 97217. I'll be in one place and wish for the things in the others or just feel frustrated with the lifestyle. Suitcases. A trashed car. I don't think I'll get much work done on my novel the way I thought I would living like this. Here and there. But I can say that I see it in its entirety now, I see everything clearly.
Today I went up to the school campus to work. I ended up working on "Eventual" a short memoir piece about a friend of mine---remember Jason??---telling me a story of an accident he was in when he was younger...did I ever show you that one? It's the greatest thing I've ever written. I think it's finally done. I can't decide if I'll try to just get it published as a story or try to create a small book of memoirs. There aren't too many literary journals that publish memoir pieces. It's almost worth submitting it as fiction, but it's just not fiction. I just don't know if I have any other memoir ideas that would work with this one. I've thought of "These Men I Have Known" but I can't remember all the stories I've known from boys. Any ideas?
I also worked on some other nonfiction pieces but they aren't anywhere near the same, just essays. I tried to work on a poem but couldn't feel it.
I guess the novel scares me. So I'm reading "War and Peace" which is supposed to be the definitive novel of all time. I'm a hundred pages in. It really is incredible.
I wish we lived closer. I wish I would have been a better friend in Austin. So lonely now.
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05:14 pm
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Roommates
So you'll relate to this.
I moved in with Dan, who lives with four other people, one, of which, is hated by everyone in the house. The house decided to try to get her evicted but the landlord won't do it. Strangely enough, he said that he's going to kick everyone out if anyone tries to leave because of this one roommate.
That's insane. The roommate everyone hates knows this. And she still won't leave.
Just wild stuff.
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09:44 am
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New dress!
see that flower behind me, the art on the wall? dan drew that. he always puts it down by saying he was copying a georgia o'keefe, but i don't think i could even copy. i remember in art class at my first elementary school, we had a georgia o'keefe week where we had to draw a giant bull's skull. i remember wishing i could do it because i could see everything so well in my mind.
the fog here is so thick today. i'll write you about it :) today is letter day !
p.s. i'm reading gene wilder's autobiography, it's very strange. he spent a bit in the army for two years in the fifties and ended up working as an aide in a mental hospital helping with electroshock. at the time he was compulsively praying all the time for no reason and he wondered if he was crazy too. i read Steve Martin's autobiography and Billy Crystal's. i've always found comedians to be so intriguing.
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01:08 pm
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How Am I...
Well, I have one more week, techinically about 5 more days at this job. Then, I'm jobless for 3 months. I'm supposed to be writing out goals for that time period. I want to work on getting my poetry submitted to magazines, finishing my children's book concept en masse and get that ready for submission, and I mostly want to work on my novel. People ask me what it's about but my job is not to sum it up, it's to write it down.
After my time off, I'm going back to school. I applied on Friday to the local community college.
I'm getting my laptop fixed from the accident for a hundred bucks, which is nice. I think. I don't like to look at the laptop, makes it all too real. Sarah made me a poster to put up around town to find the woman that hit me. I don't know how to explain to her why I don't want to without feeling weak.
My mother and sister both had some strange news this past week. My mother found out that an old friend from her childhood died in a car accident. He was still friends with my mom's sister's family. And then Sarah found out that a friend of hers back in Austin died in a train/car accident. She was trying to find her new number by calling the store that her friend worked at last time they talked. Her friend's number had been disconnected for quite a while and she finally decided to just call the store...and one of the people that worked there told her that she'd died about year and a half ago. All that time not knowing. http://www.kvue.com/news/local/stories/011808kvuetraincrash-bm.360daef8.html
Makes you want to just go for whatever impulse you have to contact someone.
So I feel all mixed up as usual. And I wish we were penpals. Just write me a note on a scrap of paper, anything. Or doodle. Or send me a leaf.
I'm going to schedule my Austin trip soon. Some time in December.
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11:59 am
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A week ago...
I was walking out of the office of the organization I work for. It's in a building that's going to be torn down within a year, so there's not many people left in it. We're holding out though. The building next door was already torn down and the road between us is ambiguously joined with an extended parking lot. But I'm not trying to make excuses.
I crossed the old road to get to my car and saw a big suv turning the corner. It slowed to a stop when it saw me and I kept walking. I was hobbling, actually, because my back hurt from sitting in a chair all day. I'd been having horrendous pains for the past week that were finally seeming to subside. The suv suddenly roared and started towards me. For a moment, I stopped walking and looked at it coming. Like a deer in headlights? And I realized the thing wasn't stopping. So I tried to run, but I physically wasn't as capable as I thought to go from hobble to run in a moment's notice. The thing hit me. I flung around, no longer face to face with the beast. The thing kept driving and finally came to a stop at an intersection about ten feet away. I would have been completely run over. I was stunned. I'd dropped all my things. Later, I would find out that my laptop had been destroyed. But for now, a small jovial woman with a large smile rolled down the window and said something before asking "Did I hit you?" She was almost laughing. I told her yes, picking up my things. My hands were shaking. She didn't leave the beast and I couldn't go near it. A vehicle was behind her but I never looked at them. They seemed to be waiting to go. She left quickly but what was actually said between us, I can't recall. I went to my car, drove home in harsh tears. I slept for 15 hours that night.
The next day, everyone was mad that I didn't call the police, get her license or any info, that I didn't go to the hospital. So. I went to the police and the hospital. To no avail. I am fine and the police won't be able to find her. I feel nervous at the possibility of the moment. So nervous, my digestive system is all out of whack. The doctor says it's shock.
I feel regret at how I handled it, I suppose. But I was so happy that I ran out of the way, that in the most instinctual of moments, I wanted to live.
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02:42 pm
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things that make the heart beat faster
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08:38 am
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Skagit River Family Fest
This festival is considered annual but every year it has every possibility of never happening again due to funding. But it was back this year and I worked a booth helping kids paint t-shirts using animal block stamps. Of course, as hard as it is to tell in the photos, I had back pain all day long, a sort of surging pain that made me walk like an old woman.
Ready for action!
These creatures came in waves. They were all very creative, some eager to fill the shirt and others simplistic. One kid simply took the sea horse stamp and made three sea horses in a row. It was awesome.
I made this little print on a cloth...I was thinking of using it in the binding of a little notebook?
This is our mascot, an ocean-phase salmon, and Wizard, a man that walks the streets with his sign. I've seen him everywhere.
After a couple creative kids came through, I started to feel inadequate. Making this t-shirt did not help. What's with the outline? What was I thinking?? I did like the way I had two sea horses facing each other with little hearts coming out like bubbles.
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07:48 pm
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Have you ever loved a pillow case?
So. The story goes...when my mother and I were on our way to Washington, we stopped in my birth-town for about two weeks, I think. Long...dreary...dramatic, horrible experience except for the parts with my grandfather. Thank goodness we stayed with him. In discovering our extended stay, we went to Wal-Mart where I bought a bunch of fabric. Most of it has been lost over time...I used some in a journal, made some bookmarks. I was very fresh to sewing and creating things from my mind. But I bought this vintage fabric that was worth keeping. It's thick and, as you can see, a wild old print. I wanted to make a pillow case with it. That was over two years ago.
So. Here it is. It's a pillow-case-cover, technically. I finally made it tonight.
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07:21 pm
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Work Area
This is the view from my bed, which was amassed with a project that day. I love this room. I'm moving out in less than a month.
My mother's address: 9534 8th Ave NW, Seattle WA 98117 will be my new mail route.
p.s. I love your video...I wish it had more you!
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11:20 am
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Butterfly
I was checking the mail with longing everyday. So, the day it arrived was like any other. I disappointedly walked up my steps after an empty mailbox and saw it at the front door. I thought it would be a letter, I was so surprised. I immediately opened the box and then set it aside, still wrapped in bubble wrap. I hadn't prepared, you see. First, I showered fully, using scrubs and smelly soaps. Then I dressed up, put on Chopin, turned on the fan.
Then, Sarah called. I should have turned off the phone.
About an hour later, I finally opened it. I knew. I knew why. Then I read. I think what touched me most, besides this obvious connection to the past, was that you gave me some of your photography. I love your photography. I've stared at your journal endlessly recently, so estatic that there they are, these moments.
Thank you, of course.
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07:43 am
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Camping!
Dan and I decided to go camping and canoeing with his new canoe his dad gave him. Everything about the trip was last minute but that's what makes a good trip sometimes. Once we started putting the canoe on the truck, we realized we didn't have much rope so we did what we could and tried to drive to a grocery store to buy more---the canoe almost fell off completely! We made the last block nervously...
Then we went out to Baker lake with no money, looking for free camping but all the usual free camping spots were taken, especially what was our favorite. So we went to a campground that you have to pay for and talked with the host about canoeing across the lake to a site. He didn't know much about it but he said we could leave Dan's truck in the parking lot for the night for eight bucks. We used change and the little cash we had to make that deposit, put everything in the canoe and kind of just went for it.
The host discussed a "noisy creek" area across the water and a couple in the parking lot confirmed it. "Just canoe straight across towards the ridge in the mountains and you'll see the campsites." The water was choppy, windy, and a couple times the waves splashed up over the boat onto me. We were lucky though, we found the most amazing campsite ever...so private overlooking a cove perfect for swimming and an immaculate view of Mt. Baker. Though, we were kind of backcountry and had a cooler...which is a nono in bear world. We just put everything in the canoe that night.
Of course it rained and we woke up in the middle of the night and we had to wake up to put on the rain fly. The next morning, the wind was horrifying, there was no sun, it was rainy and cold. What a mistake. We were stranded most of the day, thinking of all the swimming we weren't going to do. For a while, the water was so choppy, it looked like the beach. We had to take the canoe entirely out of the water because it was getting so beaten up.
So we picked huckleberries for hours, played guitar, read, kept a fire going all day---which involved cutting down dead trees with a handsaw and hacking them up with a hatchet!, ate all of our food, and actually canoed for fun a little: we went to a shallow area that had giant stumps in the water, it was like we were flying over a logged forest...and we actually saw where fire pits were made before, they lay eight feet below the water perfectly still...the water was high. Around 8:30 we finally loaded up and headed back across the water. It was calm. Right when we got to the truck, the sky finally let out the rain and there was thunder/lightening.
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05:38 pm
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Scratch that...
...the saddest movie: "Dear Zachary: a letter to a son about his father"
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07:09 pm
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The Apartment!
I got the apartment I wanted!
I will have pretty much 1 day to move, naturally. It is only a few blocks down the street though, helpful. It's strange to talk to the person that lives in the room now. I'm entering a space that meant something to someone else and re-creating it for myself. I guess that's what history is all about.
BTW, I saw the new Terminator. And liked it. At one point, I was so impressed by the machines and the imaginations of the people that thought of them.
I will not miss how noisy this place is...I can hear everything up there just now. Sounds like they are dropping dead bodies and dragging them across the floor. The man is saying "Oh no" over and over again. More dragging. And banging. "Oh no, this is terrible." What is it???!
Dan and I took Sissy camping yesterday. We drove and hiked through a DNR timber property and finally found the perfect site: a lookout over the valley of the Nooksack River. We could see all the way to the bay. Dan chopped wood and eventually I joined in and learned to use a hatchet. Sissy didn't like the noises, the fire, the fireworks in the distance, and she hated the dark. But she loved the walks. During the evening, she kept trying to get back into the car, ready to go home. Dan and I watched birds for a while and properly identified a grosbeak :) I was joyous. The sun set rosy pink with a deep fog settling in the valley, making everything glow. The air grew cold when the darkness came and we settled into the tent pretty quickly, Sissy relieved at something normal. We mostly went camping to find mushrooms but found nothing. Today, Sissy was extremely tired and adorable.
I think my landlords have a bug or a mouse because the man just went to the backyard shed to get, what looks like, a big bottle of pesticide. There must be a lot of whatever it is. I feel very lucky to be leaving then!
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09:59 am
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When I skip work, I knit!
Contemporary, huh? I just kept running out of yarn over and over again...
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