Friday, March 30, 2018
he said yes
I'm not getting my hopes up. I've heard yes before, but yeah. There's hope.
Today I am grateful for a yes.
hiding that last little note with these notes, playlist
Acoustic Dave Matthews.
No more than 25 people.
In front of the window where Charlie, Connor, Hannah, Garry, and Preacher were.
A broadcasting department?
MPB?
No tickets.
We have place.
Labor.
We need music.
No on Kelly Joe.
Bill Frisell was an almost.
The National? Who do you think you are, child?
Cedric. Man. I thought for sure that was a perfect fit.
They all could be just another, who do think you are?
Seriously. Nobody. But how much money + nobody makes what I want?
No more than 25 people.
In front of the window where Charlie, Connor, Hannah, Garry, and Preacher were.
A broadcasting department?
MPB?
No tickets.
We have place.
Labor.
We need music.
No on Kelly Joe.
Bill Frisell was an almost.
The National? Who do you think you are, child?
Cedric. Man. I thought for sure that was a perfect fit.
They all could be just another, who do think you are?
Seriously. Nobody. But how much money + nobody makes what I want?
Thursday, March 29, 2018
on the subject, questions of space, and what would superman do
I think to tell her to tell him to ask them, "Why are you so angry?" Or maybe mad. What is the third grade word for what could you have been through in your little life to make you punch me?
Mad.
"Why are you so mad? I was just walking to class. I said, 'Hi.' And I don't want you to read into this that I just assume something about you, but I think maybe something happened for you to hate on me. I'm a likable guy. What did I ever do?"
Does the kid get pummelled?
Or does the pummeller become so shocked to hear such calm confidence in a voice that he pauses?
And in that space of Did he just call me mad? Should I be offended by that word? Is he right? How does this look? The guys are right here. I can't back down. I gotta show him he can't talk to me that way. Likable?
What is that? Five seconds?
Five seconds the pummelled has to make eye contact and calmly and softly say,
"Listen, man.
Tell me what you need.
It hurts when you do that to me."
Or run like the wind. Whatdoeshedo?
What does the pummeller do?
Space.
"Listen. You seem like you could be a cool guy. Me, too. My brother thinks I'm the coolest guy on earth. Since we're both cool, let's just be friends."*
Today I am especially grateful for my parents.
*I'm old enough to use cool, and I don't really know what kids use these days. And I definitely don't know how to tell someone how they should parent their sensitive and loving and truly kind child but I will write only here that someone taught me in a tale of ancient times that there is value in the space of a question.
Mad.
"Why are you so mad? I was just walking to class. I said, 'Hi.' And I don't want you to read into this that I just assume something about you, but I think maybe something happened for you to hate on me. I'm a likable guy. What did I ever do?"
Does the kid get pummelled?
Or does the pummeller become so shocked to hear such calm confidence in a voice that he pauses?
And in that space of Did he just call me mad? Should I be offended by that word? Is he right? How does this look? The guys are right here. I can't back down. I gotta show him he can't talk to me that way. Likable?
What is that? Five seconds?
Five seconds the pummelled has to make eye contact and calmly and softly say,
"Listen, man.
Tell me what you need.
It hurts when you do that to me."
Or run like the wind. Whatdoeshedo?
What does the pummeller do?
Space.
"Listen. You seem like you could be a cool guy. Me, too. My brother thinks I'm the coolest guy on earth. Since we're both cool, let's just be friends."*
Today I am especially grateful for my parents.
*I'm old enough to use cool, and I don't really know what kids use these days. And I definitely don't know how to tell someone how they should parent their sensitive and loving and truly kind child but I will write only here that someone taught me in a tale of ancient times that there is value in the space of a question.
Wednesday, March 28, 2018
the last 25%
She pulls then pushes the window up."Here. There's you a photo."
Today I am grateful to be able to hear, to listen.
Tuesday, March 27, 2018
class of 2010 graduated in 2009
It was the waterfall after the horse trail before I broke down. The last of the 35mm because even the dry bag will get wet. It was the one thing I did right as a parent, and it was so wrong.
But tonight he calls. They're out of the woods in Missouri. The shoes worked until all the rain and he changed into the sandals. The rock formations. He loved the rocks. He won't take that food again, and he doesn't know if she'll go again. But yes, for one man, he's got much of it worked out.
Today I am grateful for the mercy of Tom Waits', I mean Mark Twain's National Forest.
it's just the light coming on
Monday, March 26, 2018
day one of four
Como Courtyard, morning |
It's twenty-five percent. You can't give it all today. So, relax.
Listen to music.
Go in at a normal time.
Take photos.
Edit photos.
Publish photos.
Do calendar. (possibly use photos on calendar)
Visit.
Read emails.
Drink water with lemon.
Send stories.
Send group email.
Write in the cards.
Address envelopes.
Go home and pass out.
Today I am grateful for a list.
Sunday, March 25, 2018
Saturday, March 24, 2018
playlist
The best torture music is when it feels good to hurt because hope is heightened as a result.
Or I'm just avoiding a notion.
Anyway.
Or I'm just avoiding a notion.
Anyway.
notion
Friday, March 23, 2018
rabbit hole
There's a story developing. The chapters are times of day. They come and go away. I adore the writing but don't want to get too involved because it feels like a rabbit hole.
But then, you know how it is, you give yourself rules.
1. Just read it.
2. Don't screenshot it.
3. At no point are you to attempt to contact said writer.
4. Use it to motivate you to work.
5. Play music.
This message brought to you by music.
But then, you know how it is, you give yourself rules.
1. Just read it.
2. Don't screenshot it.
3. At no point are you to attempt to contact said writer.
4. Use it to motivate you to work.
5. Play music.
This message brought to you by music.
thursday's lesson
Thursday, March 22, 2018
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
when I suck at things
Monday, March 19, 2018
first communication
I just got my first email of the day. It's from a guy I don't know so I don't open it, but I can see the first words and I think it sounds like it would be a good one.
Mr. (Name retracted because, though he is a bully, I kinda like him).
Subject: Don't take this the wrong way... (The use of ellipsis is for a coward but necessary if you plan to continue in the body of the email).
Body: Slight newsflash...(seriously?) You suck at certain things.
Early gratitude for Monday, March 19th: That guy.
Song of the day: Over Everything by Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile
Mr. (Name retracted because, though he is a bully, I kinda like him).
Subject: Don't take this the wrong way... (The use of ellipsis is for a coward but necessary if you plan to continue in the body of the email).
Body: Slight newsflash...(seriously?) You suck at certain things.
Early gratitude for Monday, March 19th: That guy.
Song of the day: Over Everything by Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile
six hours and seven minutes or mucinex changes lives
I vow, pledge a solemn oath, put my hand over my heart, life is water, not a tidal wave (remember that boy was friends with that bull), and she says,
"Don't jump off any rural bridges to the ditch two feet below. :)"
Today I am grateful for conversations and Mucinex.
and bacon. three more days of bacon.
Saturday, March 17, 2018
comotherapy
Today I am grateful for hard and easy, for a hoodie and my slip ons, for birds singing in the morning and chickens cracking jokes, for the warm baths and the guy who found my keys, for pizza from TriBecca and pot stickers from the Thai Hut. I am grateful to visit with friends.
nothing compared to you
Friday, March 16, 2018
just the bones you're made of
She left her family notes, handwritten on index cards. Bible verses and notes and I would show them but need his permission. It's a collection of the sweetest lady who will never stop teaching. She was their mother, his wife, their daughter, his sister, their aunt, my weird relationship cousin.
It was weird because she was two years older than me and she was bright. Bright as smart but still bright as you know, a light. And there's this shine that do you really want the world to see? Aren't there people wanting to destroy light? Dim those who speak?
Anyway,
she was beautiful from day one and she was sweet and fun and oh, jeff. have you ever felt a loss through another person, looked into their eyes and then just shut down because the very beginning of the pain is so horrid, there's got to be a better word, that you just stop and smoke or make a joke or run like the wind or you (me) have never loved like those two did.
There are walls, physical walls serving as a reminder of what happened.
What happened here?
She showed up looking great like she always did.
She laughed and rolled her eyes at Jeff.
She talked about the kids.
We talked about family.
And we were younger then,
but I never, not for one moment,
thought it would ever end.
but it did.
it did before it was supposed to.
but it never was supposed to.
I've been mad at God on this one. Which is stupid. 'Cause God didn't end it. I did. Her diagnosis was fifteen years ago, or sixteen, or long enough for me to go and listen and be at this place with friends. There is no excuse other than I am stupid and scared.
And selfish to the point that what I lost was time with beauty and light.
If she was here on this porch right now I would turn to her and say, "I should've been smarter. I'm sorry I wasn't smarter."
She would smile and roll her eyes all at the same time. Point her finger at me. Shake it like the great teacher she was. Say my full name then, "you know better."
It was weird because she was two years older than me and she was bright. Bright as smart but still bright as you know, a light. And there's this shine that do you really want the world to see? Aren't there people wanting to destroy light? Dim those who speak?
Anyway,
she was beautiful from day one and she was sweet and fun and oh, jeff. have you ever felt a loss through another person, looked into their eyes and then just shut down because the very beginning of the pain is so horrid, there's got to be a better word, that you just stop and smoke or make a joke or run like the wind or you (me) have never loved like those two did.
There are walls, physical walls serving as a reminder of what happened.
What happened here?
She showed up looking great like she always did.
She laughed and rolled her eyes at Jeff.
She talked about the kids.
We talked about family.
And we were younger then,
but I never, not for one moment,
thought it would ever end.
but it did.
it did before it was supposed to.
but it never was supposed to.
I've been mad at God on this one. Which is stupid. 'Cause God didn't end it. I did. Her diagnosis was fifteen years ago, or sixteen, or long enough for me to go and listen and be at this place with friends. There is no excuse other than I am stupid and scared.
And selfish to the point that what I lost was time with beauty and light.
If she was here on this porch right now I would turn to her and say, "I should've been smarter. I'm sorry I wasn't smarter."
She would smile and roll her eyes all at the same time. Point her finger at me. Shake it like the great teacher she was. Say my full name then, "you know better."
everybody's playlist
After the Nap |
1. You can listen with other people but it means something more when you're alone.
2. It's the beginning when you anticipate what you know is going to come.
3. There's that one instrument.
4. It once was an anthem, a lesson.
5. It slows you down long enough to think. When you're trying to problem solve your life with was I kind today? did I meet me? and if I had, would she and I have gotten along? did I feel healthy? did I pay the power bill? was I kind? was I kind? hm. someday the answer is I didn't slow down long enough. Stop or go.
6. He is hiking the Appalachian Trail.
7. I need to do so as well.
8. But, ohgoodgosh, six months of being solely with me.
9. Who would I be?
10. I don't think you come back from that as the person who left.
Maybe you don't want to be.
I think if I did it, Old Pine would have to be on the playlist.
Today I am grateful for my kidisaman, hashtag.
The Como Courtyard. I forget where we were.
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
old ideas
You know how you don't want for anything because if all the people you loved would just be healthy and live forever and the kids are okay, you feel like you shouldn't push your luck.
It's like that.
Today I am grateful for a gift.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
pieces
I forget or don't know how to ask if he still has the audio and I'm hoping if I ever hear it again that I'll think it wasn't as great as I made it out to be. Him standing on the side of the street somewhere singing some sappy song and laughing and I told him then, "You shouldn't be so mean."
Today I am grateful for storytellers.
Monday, March 12, 2018
to the kid in episode four
You are so smart, and you are so spot on. No one gets it. We all just get these pieces which do change the picture and sometimes we are legitimately stumped. Expect more of the same frustration but also be on alert for those moments when the fear subsides just long enough for you to realize that you know more than you thought you did, and asking questions, being curious and honest, though they may not give you what truly nobody gets, are all great life skills.
trip checklist
Como circa 2010 |
Can't find the key photo.
Make another key photo.
Today I am grateful for the opportunity to return to Como.
Sunday, March 11, 2018
quote is a verb
He asked, "Why do you think you and I get along so well?"
She said, "I didn't see it as sad till you said so."
He asked, "Who can relate?"
"It is an act of defiance to keep something inside."
Today I am grateful for friends.
Saturday, March 10, 2018
this post was not brought to you by the national's mr. november
"I don't know why it is, but a fire will run away from a pine limb." He's heartbreakingly smaller now but still familiar in his attention and intention and stories with titles such as "I Should'nt've Gotten Off the Tractor."
Today I am grateful for my dad.
Today I am grateful for my dad.
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