dear_friend2 the swinger of birches what is most funny is that you may never have read a single letter i have written you. i never got your address before we both got offline. it's been some time since i last talked to you and the reason i've been writing is because you called me "bro" and told me to take care of myself. when you said this, i knew that inside you were someone who cared and that i had made headway in conversing with you. if i had known your physical address you would have recieved every letter. the first time i emailed you said it was like reading the bible and laughed but you said you liked it and that no one had ever done such a thing for you. it's funny because alot of people have been saying that to me. i really don't go out of my way, i just feel obligated to tell you everything. i have seen your pictures in magazines before and on the internet, and i think about how different the person you are is from the person you seem to be. your picture is hot and strong but inside you are like a little boy and you have feelings. and isn't it funny how pictures can make you something your not. anyway you're just modeling and it's all relatively acting. have you come out yet? i can tell by our conversations that you come from a good family in california and you probably have lived in a million dollar house by the beach your entire life. but now that you are at harvard, i wonder how different things are. 030109 ... the swinger of birches anyway, i don't think i've ever told you of michael, maybe i did, once, in the beginning. but if not i'll tell you now, seeing that you have recently broken up with (was his name paul?). michael and i never really were together. we just were together in that sal paradise dean moriarty kind of way. although michael wasn't as extreme or crazy as dean. he was the kind of man with little feelings and i was the kind of boy that made them burn. and when boys like me start fires they are little at first. but they spread from the stomach to the chest to the arms and all the way down to the fingertips. see i'm the kind of boy that throws all certainty up in the air because i'm free, and michael is the kind of boy that thrives off the security of certainty. so when i come along, i mess things up. i shouldn't be so confident in stating my affect, it makes me sound so arrogant. so i met micheal when i was at one of my dad's classes. micheal was his student, 23 at the time. do you believe in love at first site? i generally don't, because i think its rubbish, but i have to admit i think the first time i saw micheal i was in love. it was a weird feeling, more or less just knowing that somehow he would be an important part in my life. he was wearing a floppy fishing hate and some cargos with a tee-shirt and he had his gi (karate uniform) in a bundle under his arm and a duffle in the other. anyway, michael and i became friends, we talked alot. the kind of talking that begins as one being the superior and the other the inferior. simply by age i chose to be inferior, but i proved myself an equal. it was also the kind of talking about alot of heavy stuff looking back i don't like heavy things like that. it makes me feel strange and histrionic. but michael liked it. 030109 ... the swinger of birches Michael was a biology teacher at Jefferson Davis High. Friend, if you don't know where that is, it's in the Heights, and the Heights means Winsdor Heights. the Heights are just north of the Montrose and downtown and all the wonderful little things in that area such as the museum district and Rice Village. he lived in a house with two other teachers, all of them being fresh out of college and enrolling in Teach for America, which is a program that sends grad students to teach at high schools. he lived with this lesbian from maine who taught english and talked ninety miles an hour. i loved her. sometimes i wonder how she is doing. i just can't remember her name. i feel bad about that. sometimes i wonder where she is at. he also lived with this guy david who was in puerto rico when everyone was supposed to move. 030109 ... birches i helped michael move into an apartment in the muesum district just a block or so from the contemporary art museum. it was a nice apartment with a black and white tiled kitchen and wooden floors and a 1930's style bathroom. Michael said the price was great. he was going to be rooming with Evan who was secretly crushing on Sabrina who was Jasan's (michael's girlfriend) roommate. they lived in an apartment building just across from michael's. i met Jasan and i really liked her. i also meat Laura who was Michael's ex-fiance and i hated her. i could never see how michael could end up with such an intellectual bitch. anyway, when i was packing i found a photo of michael in college with another guy and they were holding hands. it was in a picture frame, a tiny one, but you could tell they were together. i didn't say anything or ask questions, because i didn't think it was my place. i just put it in a box and taped it up. we later spent an afternoon at the musuems and walking around herman park and offering advice. michael asked me for advice and i couldn't give it to him. i just gave him what i thought was the best thing to say in that particular situation. we had spaghetti with his sister because she was in town and chilled listening to music and talking. 030109 ... birches michael drove me home that night, it was late and the lights were like fireworks and the air was hot and sticky. we drove slow, through downtown and on the freeway. (it takes more time to drive through down town). we listened to house music and felt alive. he took me in the house because he felt obligated to talk to my dad about not showing up to classes. he sat on the couch next to me, very close, close enough so that our legs touched (and i believe, had my dad not been there, he would have put his arm around me). he explained how he had been making a video for Teach for America and how he had gotten a grant. he left and gave me a hug telling me to keep in touch. that was my second to last night in houston. i painted michael a picture for his apartment. the walls were too bear. i didn't keep in touch very well, the way i had before. michael got busy and i painted. i painted because i was in love. this is the kind of thing i do when i'm in love. i painted 20 peices and they weren't all small undertakings. i wrote a little, but i painted mostly. i felt inspired and motivated. 030109 ... the swinger of birches then one day, out of the blue, before i came down to houston, michael emailed me telling me how he had moved to Richemond and gotten married to Jasan. She was pregnant. it's funny because at that time i was devastated, but life goes on right, i don't feel anything now. someday when i visit michael, it will be when i am just beginning to get exposure and i have an exhibit on the east coast and i will arrive unexpected and he will ask me to stay for dinner. i have a vision of Jasan making dinner inside and his son playing on the swing set in the back yard and Michael and i having a few drinks on the back patio. and then i will tell him. and i hope it floors him as much as i was floored that he got married because his girlfriend was pregnant. it is really my own fault for falling for boys who have those little feelings. who want to keep those feelings bundled up tight inside and forget they ever exist. i hate my ability to throw people's lives out of balance. in many ways andy is alot like michael, except with greater feelings. and i make those feelings stronger. i can see it sometimes in the way he holds back. 030109 ... the swinger of birches someday friend i will be good to myself and the right boy will come along and he will not have those feelings, his heart will be complete. i love myself more and get rid of the aquarian in me that tells me to stick with the boys with small feelings because that humanitarian spirit says that you can make those boys love themselves. but the truth is friend, you can't. nothing i can do can make them love themselves. they have to do it on their own. i hope friend, that you will love yourself more. i know your parents are baby boomers and that they may have a hard time at first, but you should really let them know. you will feel alot better when you do. thanks for listening. you're a great friend. the funniest thing is you don't even know it. ps. sorry for sending it in parts. postage was too expensive. 030109 ... the swinger of birches when my mom graduated high school, she went to indonesia through AFS. they couldn't transfer credits back then so she left after she graduated to be an exchange student. my mom stayed with this family who was absolutely horrible. they had double standards and would let their children do things that my mom couldn't do. so she moved out with another family. at that time my mom and aunt weena were best friends. so weena told my mom she could stay with her family. my Kokay (indonesian for grandpa) owned a European import store down town in Jakarta and he had a big family. My dad comes from a family of twelve. anyway, my mom stayed with my dad's family while he was in the states going to school. the story i wanted to tell though was this. last night i was looking at this book my mom had about bali. she gave it to me when i was little. i had only looked at it once before. but i guess i had never noticed the stash of old letter in the back. inside the stash was a hand written piece entitled, "what is a friend" it was indonesian handwriting but it was written in english. (indonesians have this distinct style of penmanship). anyway it was a beautiful piece of writing. i asked my mom about it and she said that this boy named Dado gave it to her. She sat down on my bed and told me the story of how dado and her fell in love. at that time my mom was dating this other guy who was close with dado but dado and my mom were the ones that fell in love. i could tell by the expression on my mom's face it was her first time ever falling in love. it was such a nice story especially the way her look got far off. i could see mom, thinner and more beautiful wearing hip huggers and batik and this little brass bangle with mother of pearl inlayed in it. when i look at old pictures, i see my mom as young and happy. sometimes i wish i could have been there just to see what she was like. i love her so much. well dado and my mother never got together, which i think is sad because when my mom told the story, i knew that they were meant for each other. inside the front page dado wrote, "For the one i love" and signed his name. i want to go to bali someday. i want to see what my mom saw. most of all i never want to leave behind the one that is for me. love dustin. 030110 ... the swinger of birches i graduate tomorrow, friend, tomorrow is my last official day of high school. it's a funny feeling to know that the end is near. i don't think about it believing that if i do it will come quicker. am i sad? maybe a little, but more than anything i am a little scared to finally put my feet out into the world. i wrote myself a letter for creative writing, the assignment was to write ourselves a letter that we might read in 20 years when we are a different person. i wrote a letter to my feet saying that when they were ready i would follow and that if they just wanted to, i knew that the moment they stepped out into the world, something truly great would happen. the vision i get of stepping out into the world is the old market in omaha, inside a cozy diner with house lighting and booths, and the kind of waitresses that could be your mother's best friends (the ones that go out of their way for you with a smile and think nothing of it). i'm sitting in a booth in that diner looking out the window, it's night and it begins to snow and people are bundled up and looking happy, even though it may be very cold. the store windows illuminate their display cases and a little girl stops to look into the toy store with wide eyes as her mother tries to coax her away from the lure. even though the world is full of nice things, and the atmosphere is beautiful, and the snowflakes are heavy, i like sitting in that diner knowing exactly at that moment who i am and what i want. what i want is a cup of coffee, black, and a bowl of soup. i know that the moment i step outside the door, i can go back, but i also know there are so many other diners to chose from. maybe that is what living in the moment is about. everyone keeps asking what i'm going to do, i don't want to stop and ask for directions. the thing is i do know exactly what i want to do, i want to be a photographer and take pictures for magazines and fashion designers. i want to make people look extreme and dramatically-gorgeous. but i still want to paint to. everyone asks why i just don't go to art school and get scholarships. the truth is friend, i just don't want to feel tied down right now. i want to go out and see the world, i want to travel and do freelance work. their are things you have to sacrifice for doing something you love, for me it's living at home. i don't really want to live at home, but it's going to save me alot of money. that way, when i finally am on my own, i'll have enough money to buy studio equipment or a new car. anyway, i just wanted to know how you were doing in cambridge. i wanted to know if the air was as cold as it is here. my fingers freeze and i have to wait for my car to get warm. i'll be happy when the air is warmer or we at least get some snow. but the cold is so cold that everything gets brittle and cracks if you hit it to hard. 030116 ... the swinger of birches Dear Friend, I don’t recall the last time I talked to you. At the moment, seeing you in person would help, so that I could look you in the eye and that would be enough to see how you were doing. You are always in the back of my mind. Well I will tell you this I have graduated! It’s so incredible to believe I’m done. Everyone kept asking me the last day if it felt weird or strange or exciting, and honestly it felt like any other day. It was nice because I was so worried that it would be a feeling that I would never want to leave school. But there were no confusing feelings. I felt ordinary. Today just felt like the first day of Christmas break, but I know this break will be forever. You can never go back in life, only forward. Someday I do see the possibility of not wanting to leave behind the beauty of being young, but right now I want to embrace my growing adulthood. Living is a funny thing when you think about it. For some it may seem that our only purpose is to grow old and die because you know, dying is the longest process the human body can ever undergo. It begins from the very minute we enter this world. Time has no boundaries or code of ethics to abide by, it just goes. Sometimes I wish I could just stop things and live forever without change (but only most often in times when things are going great in my life). The last few weeks have been exceptional and brilliant. I feel scarred and loved at the same time (isn’t it funny how the two ends of the spectrum can be so good together?). So this is it, Friend, it is now my official time to step out of the diner and ascend into the world where the wind blows, and whether that is a good thing or not is all based upon whether or not you think the wind is cold and bitter or just extremely typical of winter. And I chose the latter. I see the wind as being inevitable and I can live with it. It will just mean I have to keep my collar up and my mittens on. I can smear a smile across my face with the shamelessness of a whore. It is the kind of love I have for simply living. I’m alive! Can you believe it? I’m alive! So I’ve finished my soup and coffee and now it is time to window shop. And it is time to buy gifts and receive them as well. It is time to walk slowly, as if I have nowhere in the world to be. It is the time to take my life on an adventure. Each step is my own, I made it, I have chosen it, I have acted upon it. I muster optimism from the soles of my shoes and resurrect it to my chest so that my chin tilts slightly towards the sky and I can see everything clearly. Even though I know, the wind, yes, will be cold and bitter at times, and there may be instances when my collar turns down or my mittens can scarcely keep my fingers warm, times when the snow may fall with such zeal that I may not be able to see my feet, I know that wherever I go, I will leave footprints. 030127 ... the swinger of birches I feel like there is a lot to catch you up on. After Andy left, it was strange. I walked around missing him, because the last weekend he was in town was like we had always been friends, as if we had never known a time when things were uneasy or full of static. It was really great, you know? He came to Ampride on Sunday while I was working and loitered for about and hour and a half and we just talked, and we talked about nothing in particular and we smiled a lot. There is something healthy about smiling, and while it can be flirtatious (as it was in our case), it is nice to see someone smile, especially when it is genuine. He even talked to Logan, which was really great, because I didn’t think he would, because Logan isn’t exactly the most outgoing. But Andy drew him out. It was nice to see Andy showing genuine interest in him. He knew all the right questions to ask, for instance about gaming or punk music. I smiled a lot when I saw that. It was a smile that I give when I’m doing something else, I was waiting on people at the register. I bet all those people were wondering what I was smiling about. But why should I be ashamed? The boy that I like is great! That’s why I was smiling. So, the whole purpose of Andy coming to see me was to see the pictures we took. But I didn’t have them. I didn’t get to pick them up before the store closed. So on Monday, before he left to go back to Omaha, we met each other on main street to get them. It was weird having Andy see the pictures at the same time I did. I always like to go through them first and take out all the bad ones. I felt naked and helpless, but Andy liked it. He thought each one was great. I thought just then that it was nice to have a friend that liked everything about you, even your most unattractive or ungainly attributes, such as my bad pictures. They really weren’t all that bad though, I just expect a lot from myself. It was my first time ever playing with artificial lighting. Before I had always used the sun and reflected it with those card things. But this time, a whole roll was devoted to indoor shots using a backdrop and artificial lights. It was weird, that afternoon I saw my first real photo shoot unravel and I thought nothing of it. It felt natural. The pictures look like Abercrombie ads. There is one particularly with Andy holding his hands above his head and his abdomen looking like a washboard. Well that Monday, when Andy left, I felt funny inside. I didn’t want him to go, ever. I never wanted to say “good-bye” or “seya later” to him again. Mostly impart because all the people that I have ever really cared for have left me. I mean they haven’t deserted me, they’ve just moved on. They’ve gone to new places, they’ve met new people. So I’ve always been saying “good-bye” or “seya later” and I hate it. I hated seeing Matt move. When Matt moved, it was like seeing one half of your body leave and walk away. I mean I’ve never felt anything for Matt that I’ve felt for Andy because he is my closest friend. I could never feel anything for Matt, but it did feel like a part of me left. It was strange not having him around on the weekends or not going to Wal-Mart at one in the morning and acting like fools or trying to find girls to hit on (a favorite past time of ours). When Matt moved to Omaha I was afraid he would become instantly affected by the city. I thought that a small town boy would become cynical or hard and then come back to his small town and gesture at how pathetic it was. But he hasn’t, the convenience and distraction that the city can offer has not left him in anyway different. It has just made him realize there is so much more. When I talked to Matt on the phone he confessed to me that he came to the self-realization that he is “narrow-minded.” I thought about all the conversations we had had, he may have been conservative, but he was never narrow-minded. He said he missed our conversations. He told me how he talked about me to this girl we call his “special friend”. She is an artist too. Matt compares me a lot to her. It is funny to think of Matt finally finding someone and then when he does find that someone, she is like me. Anyway, he is coming this weekend, and we are going to go snowboarding. It will be my first time on a board. I’m a little nervous, but I think I can be good at it. Matt is a great teacher. He has been snowboarding for about three or four years now. He knows all there is to know about the sport, at least in my opinion, he is the snowboarding guru. Did I ever tell you how much I like being a boy? I do I really do. Doesn’t it seem a contradiction though because I’m gay? I mean aren’t boys supposed to like girls? I do like girls, just not that way. But I love being a boy. I like doing guyish things and being shameless about my bad habits. I love eating and not having to worry about someone thinking I’m a pig. I love to go to foot ball games and cheer like I know what’s going on. I like to pinch girls’ butts when they’re least expecting it. I like just being a guy. I don’t ever resent it. I resent the fact I’m gay sometimes and that it can be so cofusing, but I would never give up being a guy. It’s too much fun. So anyway, back to Andy. After he left I emailed him and I entitled it “online confessions” and I just basically spilled my guts. It’s funny that everyone I had ever asked advice from told me just to be honest. When you’re honest, it seems like the only thing that can happen is it will make on of two things stronger, yourself or the relationship. In this case I think it made both stronger. Andy writes great emails. They have perfect grammar, punctuation, capitalization and the best vocabulary choice. Especially vocabulary. I mean maybe there exist straight men out there (the kind of straight men that play football and drink on the weekends) that use words like “reciprocate” or “lovely” but I have to say, I haven’t met one yet. Is Andy the first one? I don’t know. Jen says, “He just needs time.” I understand this. Do you? Andy says he has one confession to make, he is flattered that I like him. He says that he is sorry he can’t feel the same way and that what he can give me is a friendship of integrity and some other nice words I can’t remember at the moment. He wants to road-trip with me. So friend, now that you know what happens when you are honest, I hope that you will have the courage to be honest. I hope you will tell your parents that you are gay and I hope that you are a little nervous when you do. I want you to be nervous because I want you to know the feeling of coming down after you realize nothing is wrong. That feeling is known as relief. It is a fantastic and amazing feeling. Everyone should feel that way. 030127 ... the swinger of birches today is very cold. there is snow here finally and it has drifted making iowa look like a frozen desert. i would like to go to the desert someday. it makes me think of georgia okeffe and being in love. it also makes me think of all the mexican people i love, natalie, and jen, and daniel, and ray, and amy, and lucy, and joseph, and dyskay, and becky, and little joe. all those people helped raise me. for being and asian american, i certainly have alot of latinos in my life. have you ever danced salsa or meringue? it is so much fun. i'm writing you to tell you this, tonight i am going to do an overnight shift at agnes's house. it will be my first time. i did help out one night before this, but it was only a few hours and agnes and i stayed up eating cookies and drinking coffee and it felt more like a coffee date than actually caring for someone. agnes can take care of herself fairly well, but her husband cannot. lyle just got home from the hospital and is doing better than when he was in the hospital but not so well that he can take care of himself. when i was there the last time, he was in bed most of the time. i only had to help him up once. when you get old, it's funny, you're like a toddler again. lyle cannot stand very well, he shakes and it looks as though his knees will give out. i was absolutely scared that i might have to help him go to the bathroom. i feel ashamed that i have to put someone in such an awkward situation. so i just told myself that if i was in lyle's position i would not want someone making me feel uncomfortable, so i would do the same for him. it's suprising what you can do when you are forced to. i think i handled the situation very well. i pulled his pants up and helped him into bed. when lyle got in bed, he wasn't strong enough to adjust himself. i had to cradle him in my arms and move his head so that it lay gently on the pillow. he is so sickly he looks like a corpse, but then sometimes he smiles or jokes and he looks as though he has never been better. isn't it funny how being in a situation like that can tell you so much about life? after i tucked him in and assured him that i would be within hearing range if he needed anything, i went into the dining room to resume coffee with agnes. she grabbed my hand as i sat down and squeezed it. her eyes were soft and glassy, her mouth turned up in the corners to create the nicest most genuine smile i had seen from her. it was a loving look. she said very composed, "you did a wonderful job." i was so suprised. i did a good job? i felt so much like a child learning how to tie his shoe for the first time. it was all a giant experiment of common sense that i didn't know if i was doing anything right. agnes held on to my hand, and said, "you would be a good nurse. you are very gentle." it felt nice to know that, friend. it makes me think that maybe i will be a good father someday. i want to be a father so much. it would be so nice to have something you made, the ultimate creation, and take that child and learn and grow and love all at the same time. you would do all those things together. i knew friend, that after that, i could take care of these two people. there was something amazing i got from that, almost as if they were my own family. agnes had exactly four cigarettes in one half hour. we talked about plants and she showed me all of her crown of thorn plants. they really are quite pretty in their own way, then she showed me her new amorillas. they were a gift and only bloom once. then they are dormate for a very long time before they bloom again. i have never seen something to beautiful as that giant garnet amorilla. it's petals were soft as the skin on a girl's wrist and they were so tall and lush. agnes told me she has a dream of being a florist. she wants a tiny glass house so that she can raise exotic flowers. we also talked about being young. we talked about how when you get old you wish you could be young again. do you know what, friend? agnes was married by the time she was 17! that would be like me getting married. it's no wonder she wishes she was young again. she barely got to live. agnes loves lyle very much. she is a woman with so much love in her life. she has every reason to be loving. life has taught her this ability. she has five children. their baby portraits are lined up in a row on her bedroom wall. they are black and white hand painted photos. each child looks as happy as agnes does. their smiles are genuine. talking with agnes was nice. she can offer some very good advice. my mother came in at ten and let me off work. it was so cold that night. i believe it was thirteen below zero. that kind of cold makes your bones chilled. i went home and got up the next morning to play mother. i got my brothers and sister up and got them breakfast and drove them to the bus stop. i let them wait in my car so they wouldn't get cold and i said, "have a nice day and i love you." i do this because it needs to be done. i don't resent it, i understand that my mother is too busy and my step father is too busy. their love is what makes them busy. they just want what is best for us. i clean the dishes after i'm done, i sweep the floor and vacuum. i am learning what it means to be a part of something. p.s. wednesday is my first day working with michael cerizo. it will be great apprenticing with him. 030127 ... the swinger of birches lyle has cancer in his bones. they say it is the worst way to go. cancer is a funny disease, its your own cells mutatiting and working against you, growing at a rapid rate that your body can't comprehend. of course it is more technical than this, but i have no other way of explaining it other than in this vague over simplified way. i wonder what it would be like to have cancer in my bones. would they become brittle. they are supposed to ache, and the doctors say that you begin to throw up and have all sorts of bad problems with your internal parts. the descriptions my mother gave me were graphic, and i imagined that in having cancer in my bones, it would be like a million tiny needles ingrown in my bones. each slight movement would feel like a wasp's stinger driving into my flesh and sending pulses of pain throughout my limbs. cancer is funny, i know i keep saying this but it's like your own body killing you. i can't imagine a more horrible way to die. when lyle goes,(which he only has six months or less), i'm sure that agnes will soon follow. it generally happens that way, i think they die because they are so sad. it sounds corny and sappy, but their figurative heart dies. imagine being married to someone 63 years and then one morning they are gone from the bed beside you. agnes is in denial, what more could a person do to hide themselves from the stark truths of reality. someone you love is going to die a horrible death and you will be there every step of the way. you will be there when they scream. you will be there when they vomit blood. you will be there when all of their dignity has been taken from them and someone else has to wipe their butt. what kind of things would this make you feel? denial is serious, but is it so bad? i hold agnes's hand when i'm with her and i always hug her before i leave. her face is always aimed towards her lap and when she looks up, her eyes are so glassy that they look as though they will break by the suprise of your reflection. to make things worse, micheal cerizo is moving to winterset, which means his accessibilty will be decreased dramatically. it means that things are "complicated" as he told me, not wanting to get personal. but i know what is going on. i know very well because i have been taught to read people. his sister tracy taught me. if tracy were alive, i can't imagine that any of this would be happening. i can't imagine that michael would be divorcing rachel and leaving behind three small children so that he could become ultra successful. tracy would reason with him and make the world into perfect sense the way she was so good at doing. but now that she's gone, so is her glue. it just happened to disinigrate after she left. it slowly began to rust away and lose all of its adhesive power. i hold on, very loosely, but its as strong as i can when someone is dead. i can't remember everything, but what i can remember i hold as though it were my flesh. it's things like this that make me realize all the change that has occured in my life. it makes me realize how serious things have been and at the same time how i didn't even realize it. those changes, they were just life, but now i look back and stand amazed that i am still here. i have seen many leave and many lose. and i have been there in the middle feeling as though i were standing outside of it all as the storm went on around me. like i was just an audience to a film and i had no control over everything that has happened. i think about jeremy and jordan, lisa's two boys, how they have left her for their father, how they have left behind so much for their own selfishness. i think about lisa living alone. i think about dan and tracy except now its dan and kari. i think about matt leaving and jerusha planning on moving to florida and how will is going to be moving to st. louis. i think about my mom going back to work and me doing dishes and picking kids up or making meals. i think about growing distant from my dad and fighting about how he doesn't pay child support anymore. i think about leaving behind dustin in houston. i think about andy coming around and acting like he's never acted, in ways that excite and intimidate me at the same time. and then i think about myself and i realize, that even though it may seem i am different, that i may be stronger or weaker or less or more, i feel as though i have not changed once, i feel as though i am still the same. i'm not quite sure if this is good or bad, i just have a feeling that whatever comes my way, i can get through it. 030204 ... kerry dustin, even though i don't know you, i can tell that you are an incredible writer and person, your writing reminds me of charlie from "perks of being a wallflower," with big saucer eyes that take in everything and understand it, its obvious to me that you're intelligent in more ways than one. you're someone who 'knows', and i admire that, you should be a writer i know you will do some really amazing things if you havent already 030204 ... the swinger of birches i called natalie today. i tried the last place i thought i'd try--daniel's. when i called ray last night, he said that she never answers her voicemail. it's no wonder i have problems getting in touch with her, her own father can't. it's funny though, we had such a good time talking. friend, in all honesty, i admit that natalie is the girl i love. if i ever had to marry a woman, i would marry natalie. she is changed now, grown up and understanding. there are no pretenses in her voice, no walls she is hiding behind, it is a plain tall girl who has scars, who isn't afraid to hide them. she is finally growing into her adulthood, she is maturing and losing the apathy and frivilousness of being a teenager. we talked about life as we always do. whenever i call and talk to natalie i don't introduce myself, i like to hear the slight delay while it registers in her mind that i am the one on the other end of the line. so i did it the same way i have always done. and i heard that brief delay and took it in as if it were pure ecstacy. it is that silent awkward moment that i love because i can imagine natalie's face completely. i can see her pearl almond shaped eyes getting wide and searching the room quickly catching on an imaginary spot on the ceiling that magically has the answer that it is me she is talking to. i can see her face reaching and grasping for the right name and face and i know that when those two elements connect, a virtual slideshow of memories and still frames plays back in her mind the way it always happens for me. what i find today as we speak is a stronger, composed natalie. the depression i heard in her voice weeks earlier was a result of medication, and it was a drugged up impersonation. today it is a different girl, one with plans to go to college and a set of goals to accomplish. she is reading the book "Dragon Tears" by Dean Koontz and says that she swears i was the one who told her to read it. this is impossible because i have never read a dean koontz novel, ever. the book's message is this: you can do what you like with your life, even in trialsome situations and still make the best of it. i thought it was fitting, so perhaps god stepped in and made natalie read the book. maybe he understood that it would get the point across alot better because she would understand it moreso than Psalm 91. Chad's advice is still good advice, it's just that sometimes different things work for different people. i also find out that she is living with daniel because the new apartment in clear lake at the springs is an upstairs one, and with her back brace she is not supposed to do stairways. but daniels house is all on one level and stephanie homeschools and so does natalie. so the two do their lessons together and make dinner for daniel's mother and (smiling) i am just so happy that natalie is well again. i am just amazingly overjoyed that someone i love so much is feeling like she can begin to keep living. as for daniel, i will say that she said since his parents bought him a car he has been late to school everyday. in fact he had just left five minutes before i called, which was about two in the afternoon. school starts at 8:10. i hope daniel is happy with his new school. i really can't imagine daniel going into business the way he is planning with this college prep school. daniel is daniel. he is the silly punk boy that nobody liked at the parachial school that natalie's family made all their children go to. natalie became an exception after the accident. but now daniel wants to be a business man. it makes me wonder what happened to the daniel that only wanted to play guitar and hit on girls. the one who smoke marlboro reds and went to concerts. the one i discussed emo with. that's my daniel. i just don't want to see him lose that part of him that makes him so completely unique and exceptional. he is very talented. you know, he plays bass, six string and the drums. he writes songs and knows all there is to know about punk music. i love daniel. not exactly the way i love natalie, but he is like a brother. so friend, now you know that everything will be okay. things do come up and they can be hard, but i want you to know that if these people can do it, so can you. you should really tell your parents. i know it will be hard and i know i keep pestering you, but they deserve to know. it's just i see how andy is and i realize that he would be so much happier if he came clean. he is a giant facade sometimes and when i look at him at those moments his eyes are empty. there is nothing holding you back from being yourself. you're 2000 miles away from home, at harvard, majoring in business finance and your parents are back home in california. i know you are living your life like you want because they are not around, but i have a feeling when you go home, it is another story. i just don't want to see you be unhappy like andy is at times. don't get me wrong, andy is great and he is incredibly satisfied with his life. but there is a difference between complacency and contentment. and i don't want to see you settle for anything less than happiness. one quick thing to tell you before i finish. this morning at the breakfast table as i had just got done helping lyle use the bathroom, agnes gently placed her hand on my knee and said, "i'm so happy you were here tonight." then she told me about the people she didn't like who came and took care of lyle, especially this woman named karen who she thinks is "too different". she is a funny old woman, but i think i enjoy my attachment to her. i know at times i am too personal. but in a world where everything is so impersonal, i don't think something this small can hurt. ps. matt and i are going snowboarding again this weekend!!!! 030205 ... the swinger of birches I couldn’t get very good reception when I tried to call Andy tonight, so I hung up. I sat down and tried to write about my dream last night and how wonderful it was, how it felt like it was real, and then after reading what I had written, I thought it was the most terrible thing, so I deleted it and felt lost. I felt like I wasn’t ready for bed but I wasn’t ready to do just anything. I knew that I could get better reception if I went upstairs, but I didn’t want my mom to overhear any conversations I had with Andy. She knows about us, I told you this already. It was funny, I was standing in my room talking to her and she saw a tiny wallet sized picture of him squeezed into a frame and she asked, “is this the person you wrote about?” now when my mother knows, she knows. I just looked at the carpet as if there were a tiny picture of him there and I said, “Yeah,” there was no escaping the truth with trying quickly to brush the subject off. She just nodded her head and went to finish the laundry. Since then, we haven’t talked about him, I don’t really want to either. I want to avoid subjects that lie uncertain in both courts, hers and mine. So I got the craziest idea as I was doing dishes. It was about 9:30 and I asked my mom if she had any film. She went to the hall closet and dug out a roll of 400 speed Kodak Gold. I was set. I had film and I had my legs and I could get bundled up so that I would stay warm. I wanted to be warm enough to stay comfortable, but cool enough so that my legs would burn from the air when I came inside. I hurried down to my room and scooped up my Pentax and my tripod and did something I hadn’t done in a long time. Tonight, we just got a new dusting of fresh snow. It began when I left for work at six and didn’t end until I got off at eight. It was so beautiful, the kind of snow that has just enough moisture to become icy and powdery. Watching the snow was like being inside a snow globe and it came so thick and fast it was like a tiny piece of heaven had crumbled and fell to the earth. I think that if there ever could be heaven on earth it would be nights like tonight when the cold and the dark makes everything seem fragile and precise and the stars are like tiny bursts of light hanging on fishhooks in the sky. There is a silent poetry in the landscape of nights like tonight, words that form where the images begin and the shadows end. What I did, Friend, was go for a walk and take pictures of everything that caught my eye. I honestly have not done this for a long time. I’ve been focusing so much on people and light and cropping that I haven’t taken the time to just go out and find raw images. I haven’t taken the time to observe and capture those things that catch you. I noticed two nights ago when I did my paper route and the sun set around 6:30, a trail of footprints in a snow drift and the sound of the church bells sounding out a soliloquy in the background, I realized that night is a new and exciting time to begin taking pictures. There is a surreal quality evident in it. I started off by walking down Kossouth street as it lay untouched like a white desert cast copper in the glow of the lamplight at the corner of 6th. The shadows from the tree branches lay curved and inviting across the fresh snow. From there I caught the lights in the alley way from the backside of the Processing plant and its smoke billowing white into the purple sky. On the main street I got a shot of footprints left from Gary Moore leaving the bar. They were the first on the sidewalk and they stretched on like a tiny stitch across the ground. I also got a picture on Palo Alto Street next to the sheriff, Steve Kollasch’s house where the tire treads were embedded in the street and a tiny street light stood at the end of the drive. I also trekked out past Garmon Adams’s house on the edge of town so I could get a shot of West Bend in the distance with it’s tiny halo of magenta hanging above all the lights. I imagined each of those lights belonging to someone’s house, and that each of those lights could be from a bedroom or a living room or a television set or a phone booth. Each of those lights belonged to something and had some purpose. Above me Orion’s belt was framed in between a set of clouds and I quickly reduced my shutter speed and aimed my lens towards the sky. Heading home with my face to the wind and the turtleneck of my wool fisherman sweater keeping me warm, I stopped by the baseball diamond, poised and barren in the winter, made nostalgic by the pale yellow green lighting of the fluorescent spot light. It’s nights like tonight that I want to record everything I hear. I want to record the sound of the wind and the crunching of snow from under my boots, and the sound of my breath husky and winded from running across the infield and through the Potratz’s front yard. I want to record the sound of the dial tone and the hesitant ring followed by Andy’s soft voice on the answering machine. I want to record the sniffle in my nose from the wind blowing and loosening my sinus cavities. I want everyone to take the time to realize all the life that is happening around them in the song of ambience that can be heard if you are quiet and patient enough. When I got home, my face burned and so did my thighs and I felt so complete and perfect. I felt like I had done just what I needed. I ripped off my beanie and mittens and coat and boots and hoofed down to my bathroom and turned the shower on and jumped in without letting my body get adjusted to the heat. I burned my hands and my chest and my back and my feet from a quick thaw and it felt great. It is the kind of feeling that is sharp and fast and then once you get out you feel intoxicated from the effects of relaxing your body so quickly. I hope that you had a good night. I’m sure you probably did. I just want you to know that right before I fall asleep, you will be next to Andy on my mind. 030206 ... the swinger of birches Dear Friend, I suppose I should tell you how everything went last weekend, snowboarding and all. It was awesome. I’ve never had so much fun. I finally got the hang of it. I can carve now and I feel like I’ve really found something I like other than my artwork and writing. It’s such an amazing sport with so much attitude. I think what I like about it is the attitude. I don’t believe I’ll ever go back to skiing. When Matt and I stopped for something to eat and we went into Mankato to one of those buffets, I whispered in his ear the slogan for a t-shirt I was designing in my head, “skiing is for bitches.” He laughed and was so excited that I was hooked like he was when he first started. Next season I’m getting a board. I notice myself saying “dude” a lot more now and looking at clothes I normally wouldn’t be looking at like billabong t-shirts and fox racing sweatshirts. I feel somewhat attached to the thrill of the sport and being apart of something large. I feel hyper masculine, like I’ve never felt before, as if I don’t need to prove anything to anyone because I snowboard. I think this is how football players must feel. Anyway, that Saturday was great weather. The sun was out and the air was cool. The snow was still icey from the rain that they had gotten the week before. But we all made do. Dan and Kari went along as usual but they left after a while so Dan could use the table tops for practicing freestyle boarding and Kari went to catch some speed off the more complicated hills. The whole day I stuck the bunny hill where I had fallen so hard the first time I ever went. But all my runs were great. I fell very little. At the lift there was a boy who looked like his name could be Lief or Fern or Avery. I saw a picture of him on the armband nametag he was wearing and he was handsome in that skinny nature boy kind of way with his shaggy brown hair caressing his forehead and the line of his slender face meeting at a nice chin. He asked me if I had seen the hawk that had been circling above and I shook my head as I got on the lift, looking up vainly to catch a glimpse. It was probably just a red-tail which are so populous in the area. He was an intense boy and I could feel the weight of his stare as he looked at me every time I got on and off the lift. I would have liked to have sat him down and learned everything there was to know about him. In the small control room where the attendants sat to get warmed, I saw him unpack a lunch and drink something hot from a canister over a notebook in which he wrote incessantly. I wanted to hear every story he could tell. I wanted to feel apart of who he was and what he wanted from life. Is this strange? To feel drawn to someone you don’t even know for no particular good reason. He was the kind of boy that seemed true and honest and the kind that would give his heart to you faithfully for a lifetime. The kind of boy that isn’t ready to wear his heart on his sleeve, but once you’d won him over he would, just for you. I suppose, what attracted me so much was I was seeing a reflection of myself, the kind of self I am at times when I feel I am the best I can be. That kind of boy is the kind of boy I take pictures of, the kind of boy I make paintings with. He is the breed of American boy that delivers the mail and rides bicycle, who knows much about life and little about loss. Anyway, I am more than sure I will see him again, with his caribou woven jacket and his rugged brown leather snow boots and the green Lands End canvas pack. I will see him again and I will talk to him, and show interest like he showed in me by saying “Howdy” the way Andy did the first time I ever met him, and the way he showed interest in the way he asked if I had seen the hawk, in the way he asked if it was my first time on a board. It is this kind of boy that will make the best kind of lover, the best kind of friend, the best kind of brother. His is the kind of boy that makes the best type of son. You understand, that his breed is rare and fragile, and it is the most endearing and complete. I want to learn how to be both of those things. So Matt and I left early that night because Matt is out of shape since moving to Omaha and not being able to board regularly. We did not go into Mankato or go to the coffee shops or drive around listening to music. We went home to my house where he slept on the floor and I watched “Sweet Home Alabama” with my mother. He slept deeply but was up by quarter to seven to leave for Fort Dodge where I would meet up with him later on that afternoon. It was a full weekend, and I spent almost every minute of it with Matt just like when we were younger and I was around fifteen and cloudy eyed and inexperienced and Matt was the one to open everything up and show me the way to be an adult. I guess I never noticed that in all that time we both thought we were so grown up that we were just fools and still children, because inexperience is something that can touch every life regardless of age or race or social status. It is the type of wound that is delicate and shameful that we cover up too often to save ourselves the scorn of embarrassment from being ignorant. Now, knowing is shameful, because it is true, ignorance is bliss. And when you have seen heartache or cloudy days, you know more than ever that to be caught in a world that is your own is no sin or curse. But what is worse is to be caught in the world that actually exists and know all that is crooked and untrue. For this reason I have stopped watching the news. On Monday, Matt and I took pictures before he headed back for Omaha and I had to go to work. They are fantastic prints, the black and white ones especially there are some very close shots and the lighting is perfect, the contrast sharp, and Matt looks like I have only seen him for the first time. Now I know how others see Matt when they meet him for the first time. I do not see the person that is my best friend since middle school, I see someone completely new and fresh. It is a young man I see. He showed all his friends in Omaha and told them a photographer in Fort Dodge took them. When they all agreed they were the most fantastic pictures they had seen, he told them I took them. Ashley was in disbelief. When he showed her my drawing I had done for Matt, she brushed it off. She knows there is competition here. Any artist can sense a worthy competitor. Her problem is she realizes that my talent is greater. I don’t say this to sound arrogant, I say it because it is truth. I know when I step out into the community of artists, I will just be another fish in the sea, but here and now and within a three hundred mile radius I am exceptional. I know this, but I remain humble by telling myself I am not Picasso or Dali. I look at there work, I look at my own, and I realize that I still have miles to go. I have a dream, friend, it is a small dream, but if I am willing to work I can accomplish it. This dream is my own studio. I lie awake some nights, sleepless because this dream is calling for my attention. I know what it will look like, can envision every piece of furniture, the color, texture, what the receptionist will look like, every detail. I will call the studio Chrysalis Photography and make it have a very modern image. I call it chrysalis because my motto would be “experience transformation” I think the kind of pictures I take makes everyone look like if they stepped outside of their body and envisioned all the ways they could make themselves better, they would get a photo that I had taken. They look exceptional and beautiful. I have a strong appreciation for beauty, but it still has to be an honest sort of beauty. I look at things for what they are and what they can be. And I always try to make them better. Sometimes I wonder if I spend too much time looking at others and not enough time looking at myself. Anyway, tomorrow I will take my disc and get the picture of Julie printed. I scanned in a print, changed it to black and white, rid her face of blemishes and made her eyes look stunning. I’m ordering an eight by ten. The image quality at the photo shop will be better than anything done by inkjet or saturation photo printers. It will look exactly like a real photograph. I’m going to surprise Julie with it. When she sees me I believe she will give me a hug. 030217 ... the swinger of birches Dear Friend, Tonight after work I called Lisa. I haven’t talked to her since last summer, it has been a long time, but it was so good to hear her voice. I had a reason for calling, which I am a bit shameful of, because I have been thinking about her for a long time, and even more now that I have been thinking of Tracy so much. I know it is wrong to think of Tracy now that Dan is with Kari, but the more I see them together, the more I think of Tracy. Kari is great. She is definitely good to Dan, but she is still not Tracy. I don’t hold this against either of them, they are human, everyone needs love, I just remember the way things used to be. Anyway, I got hired to do my first wedding shoot. I am nervous, beyond words, I am nervous. I have no idea if I will be able to work miracles and make people look magnificent, but I believe this is the first test. To cheat a little I called Lisa to ask if she would pick up this great professional film that is 3200 speed and is great for any lighting condition. It is wonderful. I figure that this will help a great deal and relieve a lot of stress. Anyway it was just very nice to talk to her. We talked about life and pictures. She is very depressed since Jeremy and Jordan have been living with Troy and since the divorce and living alone. I don’t see how anyone could desert her the way that her boys and husband have. I don’t know all the details, I feel terrible whenever she talks about it that I would never want to pry. But I do know that someone like Lisa who was comparable to Tracy, doesn’t deserve that kind of heartache. No one does. That kind of pain is complex and aching. It leaves a big gaping wound in your heart that is for scavengers like crows and foxes to tear apart and scuttle for themselves what is left. Her voice does not have the same life it had when she lived here in Algona. It is like a dead voice, the kind of voice someone gives you if you’ve just woken them up by your phone call. That is what it sounds like, distant and unwilling. Only a few times when I made her laugh did I hear the same Lisa that I knew very well. It was when we talked about old things, about how things were, as if they had never changed, that is when I recognized the voice and it sounded warm and familiar. I love Lisa, Friend, as if she were my own aunt. Trace and her used to pretend, I’ve told you this before. I know it is wrong to want to go back. There is only one direction in time, yes, but if I could go back, I would. Things were so simple back then. The world was one giant place of security and every thing had its niche. It’s a terribly heavy price you pay for aging and growing. It is pain. It has it’s share of joys, but the render few in comparison with the amount of heartaches caused by change. Change is a good thing, sometimes, like the first snowfall or the beginning thaw of spring and the new buds on the trees or the blossoming flowers in summer. These kinds of changes, they are reliable and certain and they happen as they have always happened and they let you know that everything is the way it should be. But it is changes like death and divorce or the people you loved going through troubles that come unwelcome. If there were some way I could make everyone that I know and love happy, I would do it. I would make them feel like they had the world in there hands. I would surprise them all the time with little things just to let them know someone was thinking of them. But there is no way I can do that, Friend, I can only try my best. Sometimes I just don’t know if my best is good enough. Everyone says that the best thing I give is my ear. They say I am a good listener, but I leave those conversations feeling like I have given nothing. I feel sorry that I could not relieve the problem. Anyway, tomorrow, Friend, I will get up and go to school in the same routine as if I had never left. I am going to work on my self portrait and I need to make sure that everything is as I left it in the art room. I need to make sure Mr. Yi is still lackadaisical and senile. I need to make sure Erin and Kayla are where I left them, unconfident and reaching out to try more daring things. I need to nurture them like I did before I left. I need to make sure that Steve will ask advice on his latest piece and that Sondra will ask for my approval on one of her collages. I need to know that Julie is still trying and that Emily is raising hell. These things, these things I could be as certain about as the changes in season. I knew that they were as certain as the sunrise. They were just high school things, but in high school you whole world seems invincible and righteous. Now that I’m gone, and I’m away from these things, I want to make sure that they are still the same, even in my absence. Because you see, even though that I’ve changed, I don’t believe that the people have. I think they are right where I left them. Julie will be in Minneapolis next fall semester at Aveda learning how to cut hair and make people gorgeous. I want the best for her. Kayla and Erin will be taking over as the Algona High’s resident artist, but they will never replace me. Mr. Yi says I am irreplaceable, he says I am right up there with Gary Kelly whom was a graduate in the fifties or sixties. His illustrations have been seen all over the U.S. on the cover of USA Today, and the book “The Necklace” about that woman who borrowed a necklace and lost it and spent her whole life paying for a new one so that her friend would never know and then in the end her friend told her it was fake. He also illustrated an edition of Rip Van Winkle and did some work for one of the past Super Bowls. You know who Gary Kelly is, you could never miss his style. He graduated from my high school. Someday maybe I will be a Gary Kelly, except that person in the future who is a younger version of me will wonder if they will ever be a Dustin Mansyur. Is it so wrong to want that kind of success? I think it is. My gift is a gift. It’s not something I should want to flaunt or use to bring glory to myself. It is something that was given to me from my Creator. I’m not trying to preach. I just believe that if God were a person here on earth, and he were me, he would use his talent to please others and not himself. And I just want people to be able to look at my work and relate to it and feel like they can take something from it and be happy because they understand that everyone feels the same things. I know you understand, thank you. 030217 ... the swinger of birches do you hear that? it is the sound of silence creeping up on me. it is the kind of silence that comes when you feel like you have been left alone on purpose. i check my email. i check the mail. nothing from andy since the fourth of february. nothing. not even a voicemail. i feel empty. i shouldn't be so ready to put my heart and set it on a ledge that isn't joined to a wall with nails because the weight of it would tear the whole thing from the plaster. i feel alone and unwanted. i know that this has happened before and in the end it is generally my own desire of wanting a word that makes me feel terrible. if i make time from my busy life, why can't he. i know he will have a perfectly good reason, he always does. he learns well to juggle stripping and studying between a girlfriend and his job at abercrombie. but where do i fit into all of that. suddenly i realize, i don't. i realize that i am alone. if your eyes ever read this Andrew Franz Erpelding, i want you to let me know that you are still out there and that i cross your mind at least once in a while. 030217 ... een stom kind umm - sorry to spoil 'your' page - but i just had to say that your writing is fucking amazing. thanks for sharing it. 030218 ... the swinger of birches thank you, it means a lot to me when i hear things like that. 030218 ... jinx You didn't show up today. I must say I'm a bit disappointed. 030218 ... jinx Are you still alive? 030227 ... swinger of birches dear friend, i now can say i understand michael. i understand how one can be so busy and ambitious and not make time for people that mean something to you. i know how it feels to be on both ends the one that is not recieving and the one that is recieving too much. i want you to know that i am still alive. i just have been so busy. my life is like this word that michael told me. it is a hopi word, but i can't remember it. it meant life out of line. that is how i feel. i wonder about michael now as i'm am writing about him. i wonder if his life is still very much out of line. i want you to know i am okay, that i think about you often, and that i will soon write you something you deserve to here. for now i will leave it at this. and i will suprise you pleasantly. love, me. 030305 ... the swinger of birches it has been some time since last speaking with you. i want you to know that i am doing very well, i am in houston now, i flew down yesterday. it was an exhausting flight but i made it safely. i sat next to a couple from wisconsin. the wife reminded me of goldie hawn, she had an obnoxiously funny sense of humor and was paranoid that the plane was going to crash. it was an interesting flight in from minneapolis. when i got in baggage claim only took five minutes which suprised me. i was elated other than the fact that i had to wait an hour for my dad to pick me up because he was running late. later that night i went to amy's house and we got ready to go out to Grasshopper which is a new club downtown, we drove around for like half an hour just looking for a parking space. but it was worth it. on the lower floor the dj spun mostly house so i had a great time dancing. this indian guy (one of the better looking ones that was there) told me i was a great dancer and we took turns showing off. it was the kind of night i had been waiting for completely perfect. tonight i am going to see natalie for the first time since last summer when we got in a fight. i'm very excited. i called her from the airport when i got into houston and she asked if i still had plans with amy, i told her i did and she sounded very disappointed. it was the kind of sound that is invading and obvoius. the kind of awkwardness that comes from awkward silence. Daniel and everyone was there and it sounded like a nice little party just watching "Clerks" and chilling. but i had to spend it with amy because it was her last night in town. she goes back to baylor today. i cannot believe how everything is so green down here i feel like i've been brought to paradise. i'm going to galveston later this week or possibly next weekend. it will be a blast. anyway i no none of this was remotely interesting. but i will tell you before i left i had lunch with adrew and his girlfriend kelly. it was definitely interesting. in honesty, after trying to be objective i cannot tell you what he sees in her. even emily said when the went into sister sarah's to have dinner "you're cuter dustin" that felt good. so when i was getting up to leave i told andy i wouldn't see him before i left and he gave me a hug in front of everyone at the daily grind. it was funny, i felt awkward and i really don't know if i can say i like him that way anymore. it's like it's not important. he's not important, it's funny how fast some things fade when life gets busy and what it boils down to is bills and taxes (which i still need to get done)i hope that everything is good in cambridge. you are probably on spring break now or maybe it is just getting over with. anyway, i just wanted you to know i was thinking of you. 030316 ... swinger of birches Dear Friend, Have you ever just wanted to disappear. i feel like disappearing completely at the moment. i want to vanish from everything that is surrounding me. i want to get away from my father i want to get away from houston, i want to get away from life. i want to get away from the reality that in my life i have many forces that i cannot control, and those forces take control of me. what i do have control over is my feeling. do you know friend, at times i think that i could never have love for my father, i feel like i don't love him, it is such a strange feeling to not love your father. it is a strange feeling to know that you have grown up with a distance that once was a splinter and slowly grew into a wedge. Do you ever feel this way friend. Why did you move to Cambridge? was it because you wanted to get away too? i wish that i were with you know, to be far away from the mess of emotions and thoughts that pursue me presently. i want to just be free and without worry. i want to know what it is like to be happy again and not confused. i spent my afternoon helping Julian, my little brother clean his bedroom, it is presently 9:32 and we have just finished, we rearranged it too which took time, nonetheless i have spent the day with him. it is days like today when you know you really love a person, because you can simply do nothing and know you have done something because you spent time with that person. but when i spend time with my dad, it is like there is no unsaid love, there is no feeling that is mutual or even existant. it is like traveling in fog without any headlights, or worse yet in a midwestern whiteout when the wind is blowing atrociously and each semi truck is like a moutain moving heaven and earth against you. the more i try to get in touch with natalie, the harded it becomes, i play phone tag and leave messages, but she never gets back to me. i feel like i shouldn't try at all. these things happen to me when i come to houston, these things that leave me feeling very much deserted and alone. i shouldn't feel this way, i am here in the place i love with people living less than a continent away. but they never work for me in a way that brings me happiness, i feel like no matter how hard i try to bring all the strings together, they don't hold a perfect knot, and slowly each string slips away. i will talk to daniel now. i hope you have a good evening. i miss you. take care of yourself. 030317 ... birches today Friend, things started off very boring, i thought i was going to be stuck inside all day, but they ended great. i just got in from a nice drive home with daniel and amy. we listened to the ataris and watched all the lights in houston. it was a nice drive, amy and i sitting in the back daniel in front, with only questions asked intermittently. it was the kind of drive that you don't need to talk. only to ask questions about a song or a place that you see as you pass by. the lights are beautiful, i don't remember ever seeing houston this beautiful except one time before during my sixteenth summer but the air here is nice and smells of trees and deep south. natalie and i agree it smells like cold trees, we said it at the same time. it was funny. amy sat close to me in the back seat. it was the kind of comfort that you know you are safe. i find daniel each day more like someone i love like a brother, like a good friend i never had. i can tell he likes me too, there is nothing in the lines of attraction, it is simply the growth of friendship. so this morning at approximately 7:34 Julian entered the room i was sleeping in and woke me up to take him to Toys 'R Us to buy the new edition of Pokemon, again. and again today they did not have it. we came home, he being disappointed, and i dreading the fact that i would be bored. However natalie called me and asked for my address messing up her great idea to suprise me by just showing up, but when you live in houston and things are so far apart, sometimes it is hard to remember just where everything is. so daniel drove his red bronco and finally around five they picked me up, we went down to the museum district and went to the sculpture garden and acted goofy and then went to daniels to eat his mother's mexican food. she made great enchiladas. i know this, your mexican friends are good for one thing if nothing else and that is there food. when i look at natalie now i see a different girl she is older and stronger and more mature and she is understanding. and i think everytime how much i love her because she is all of these things. we are good for each other. we have seen alot, and we have remained. it reminds me of the movie "beachs" with bette midler. i love that movie. that is how i feel, like bette midler. 030318 ... the swinger of birches dear friend, tonight i was talking to daniel. it was very enlightening. the last few weeks i have noticed something with natalie, even when we are talking or having a good time. it has just been a feeling though, something i didn't give much attention to because i truly believed that everything was back to the way it should be. but tongiht i think daniel could not hold back any longer. it was as if he had collected little bits of information that needed to be made known to me and he had them stored until they became overwhelming. they are littl pieces like "dustin calls too much and has nothing to say" or "the sculpture garden was so boring, i hate contemporary art." things like this that have accumulated and swelled until there was no space and his sense of morality capsized so that he did the right thing. he told, "dustin you don't want to hear this, but you have to and you have to think about it." and then he told me, he told me about natalie and things that she says, the way she acts,and how she treats people in general. i didn't want to face these things friend, i turned my head away when he started to tell me because i didn't want to have to be confronted by the fact that there was truth to what he was saying and that the truth was stark and bitter. it was like i didn't want a part of me to be torn from my side and fed to the ravens, but it came to the point where daniel knew it needed to be done. now i am glad he did. he felt guilty, i could sense it. but it was not his fault, he made it known to me it was not my fault either. who's fault it was lay in natalie's palms for she was the one who acted. well when daniel told me all of this i felt sickly and unappreciated, i felt insecure that i might not be smart enough, interesting enough, witty enough to be appreciated by someone i had loved so long. placed the blame on myself for not being any of those things and for losing my sense of edge. but daniel said i had that. he offered suggestions when i asked him what i should do. but none of them matched what i really felt what should be done. that is to let go. i talked to amy then who is back at college in waco. she always can talk sense into me. she has the insight of an aunt. it amazes me. she told me about her friend mary and how they had been best friends for five years and then just last fall mary had started to become closer with her roommate and said she had loyalty equally to all her friends. i told her the story and she believed that it was time to move on and follow what i thought was right. she said i was mature and that i had grown and changed. and then i realized, natalie may have changed, she may be sober, but she has not matured or grown like i thought she had. she is still the same. my maturing just let me see that the person i had so much loyalty and affection for when i was younger was someone i no longer believed deserved it because she acted foolishly and without any consideration to her actions and the reprecustion on others. do you know what i think is right? i think it is time to not invest any effort on someone who doesn't want the effort. so i believe it is time, friend, it is time to let go in peace, to let distance take its toll and let time manage the details of feelings and thoughts and actions. it is a hard step, i have second thoughts, but inside down in my gut i know what i am doing is right. and i know that even though i may be losing one of my best friends, i still have many more. 030320 ... the swinger of birches dear friend, i haven't actually talked to you in awhile. you're just never on. i heard about you though, i read your profile that you updated on that website. alot has happened to you. you just broke up with him, you hurt him and now you hurt. i wish that you could now all this, all that i have written, i wish you could know that you've really helped get through a difficult period in my life simply because you were someone to write to. but i have no way of letting you know. you don't answer messages, you are just gone, because he is gone, and it sounds as though he was the one for you. i'm sorry it had to end. if it makes you feel any better: this too soon shall pass. i'm not good with words, i'm not good at consoling others. i am awkward and clumsy. it just makes me feel bad to know that you are hurting because you made a mistake. and i just wish that you could know that. 030320 ... the swinger of birches i never told you about herman park. it is the greatest park in houston, located in the museum district. they haver really made it much nicer now than when i was younger, it is beautiful. there is spanish moss hanging from the live oak trees and the grass is very green. i took julian my brother down to the park so that he could rollerblade on the sidewalks. in the middle of the park they have a pond for paddle boats. it was the most beautiful day yesterday. i cannot get over the beauty that i am surrounded by. there are many people that go to herman park, all races and social classes. mexicans and indians and chinese and black and caucasion. it is nice to see that all of these people exist in the same world that they all smile the same way about the same things, that they all have their own. the park was alive with smiles and laughter and children feeding ducks and teenage boys with Tool shirts on skateboarding even though it is prohibited. on the north side of the pond is a set of concrete steps that are in the shape of an arch. they are large. and on either side is a ledge. i saw a man just sitting on that ledge looking out. he had on a yellow nautica polo shirt and khakis and those shoes that eveyrone has that remind me of bowling shoes or cross country ski boots. he was handsome. i could not get him to move his head though, no one coul. it was as if he had fixed a spot on the horizon and chosen to stair at it for a very long time. i wanted to ask him what he was thinking and why he was all alone at the park where such a beautiful thing should be shared with someone you love. but i didn't. perhaps it is the fact that he seemed so docile and serene that i did not ask but was drawn to him. it was as if he knew something that i didn't. like the mona lisa. he had that look. it was focused and concentrated though, not soft and quixotic. but turned briefly to watch julian and i taking pictures and check his cell phone then resumed watching the horizon. i will never forget this man. it is people like him that stay brandished in my mind and they are fresh years later. i wish at times that for all the people that strike me the way he does, that i could gather them up one by one and put them on a shelf so that i could always look at them and feel the way i felt that afternoon. 030320 ... the swinger of birches yesterday we all went to the beach, it was the perfect day for the beach, sun, breeze, warmth. i was comfortable and the air was perfect. we all looked like bona fide beach bums in our sandals and t-shirts and cheap thrift store shorts. daniel came with natalie, mark, and his sister stephanie to pick me up around three. we stopped so that daniel could put ten dollars in his tank. i gave him the money since he came all the way up from pasadena. he says it is like fifty miles round trip. people in the city are just not used to driving for long distances. back home in iowa, i am used to the distances with ample amounts of land in between places you want to be and the places you are from. it like a ladder that leads you across the earth. stephanie, mark, and i were crammed in the back like little children, but it didn't feel as comfortable as when you are young. i don't mind the scrunched knees or my elbows in someone's side, but we couldn't even fit in the seat. they told me of going to austin on 26 dollars on a whim and cramming seven people in daniel's tiny s-10 tahoe. i thought abou thow uncomfortable i was and was thankful there were not two other people squeezed into the car like sardines. when daniel drives, he doesn't know how to get to places as fast as when i drive. he takes freeways that go entirely out of the way in order to get to point b. i gave natalie two cd's i made for her, both compilations, the first called "organic pop" that i actually made an entire pamphlet to that had a butterfly and rainbow stripes on the front and inside was decorated with little things from childhood, like pink teddy bears hugging or a swan swimming through water with flowers in the background, or a circus lighting up the sky. the second cd was called "say anything" after the good charlotte song. i love it. it is a very mellow cd with many love songs on it. i put mandalay, and james iha, and bjork, and of course dashboard on it as well as the song "waiting in vain" by bob marley. she loved both tings. it is funny how i act with natalie. i gave her those things because i had intended to before anything happened. so i did. and she loved them. but all afternoon she was cold to me. i think it was because she had an audience and therefore she had to work that audience. but i don't think she realized that in all that time she entertained everyone else, she really just looked very immature and silly. it was awkward, eveyrone had someone except me. when we got to daniel's on our way to galveston, so that we could drop natalie off so she could ride with shawn, i was happy. i sat up front with daniel and we listened to "i'm sorry i'm leaving the b-sides" and i got to listen to my song about lief on the train and yadda yadda. it is a great song, daniel knows all the words to it. i love it when daniel sings, it sounds wonderful. sometimes we sany together and sometimes we just took turns, and i always stopped singign when i didn't know the lyrics because i hate looking like an idiot, especially in front of daniel since he knows so much about that kind of music. then we put in koufax and i felt relaxed the whole way to galveston. i learned through conversation that mark takes pictures too. it was nice to chat lightly with him about photography. he is a handsome boy, with latin features and dark eyes. he has a young boy inside him that is waiting for the right moment to turn into a man, it is like daniel except in spirit five years younger. once we got to the beach the boys all clung to each other and natalie and stephanie clung to each other and i just felt stupid because all the boys were talking about was girls and all the girls were talking about were things like clothes and fingernail polish. i just was quiet, because i would rather not say anything if i feel no need to. we walked around and found jellyfish that were stranded on shore from when the tide was high. they had failed to be carried back out to see. in the holes that people dug were graveyards of jellyfish leftover for the birds to eat. mark and i poked at their squishy translucent bodies. daniel said, "poke it till juice squirts out." so i tried but the only thing that came out was bubbles from its underside. they are very tough and have thick skin. i only had five frames left on my film which made me sad, because we all headed back to the two cars and opened the hatchbacks sitting around eating snacks. daniel got out his guitar and started playing the get up kids when natalie put my cd in. it was "valentine" i like watching daniel play guitar. he took his glasses off when i went to take a picture of him, but honestly, as much as natalie criticizes him for wearing them daniel would just not be daniel without his glasses. he had his atticus hat on backwards with the broken hear showing in the front. i took a picture of everyone sitting around eating with the sun just beginning to sink and get warm. i think that will be a good picture. i want to see the way it turns out. mark was troubled that i only had five pictures. i told him that natalie and daniel were supposed to bring film, but they didn't and i didn't have the money to buy more, at least not in galveston. you pay like eight dollars for a roll of 24. later amy and jason showed up. we all went down to the strand and walked in and out of beach shops. this one shop has great things from all over the world like bali and india and africa. natalie has an idea to open a spa and call it bali. she wants to but bamboo from there and lanterns made from fine papers. we all were clueless as to what we should do after the strand, we stood around on the cobblestone street corner eyeing everyone else and being indecisive. finally and as usual natalie took charge and said we were all going to fuddruckers. daniel and stephanie had to run home to get money so i went with jason and amy because whenever i go with natalie and shawn i feel way out of line. i feel non existant. amy and i sat in the back seat and cuddled barefoot. it is funny to think of me cuddling with amy, we hold hands and act stupid together. it is a different relationship, but i think i may actually like it. if nothing else its not serious. after we all ate, natalie and shawn went back to her place, the rest of us rented "the beach" at blockbuster, i think blockbuster was the best time i had that entire day because at blockbuster it was just daniel and me walking around and talking about movies and iowa and music, and for that moment i had a friend, when i had felt alone the entire day. daniel knows great movies, but i told him that he should definitely watch "say anything" with john cusack. i told him all about bobby, and about evan and tanya. and that entire time, i knew i had daniel's attention, and that he was considerate enough to ask me what i wanted for a movie, even though i let him pick it out. i let him because he was considerate and i thought it was nice and so just because of that i told him he could get "the beach". having daniel and amy now is filling that void that natalie left inside of me. they are like little pieces of a dream sort of relationship, one that is just light and not heavy, but one that is filled with a certain sense of loyalty. all friendships begin with this feeling. but whether or not that lasts is entirely different. i hope they do. they are irreplaceable. 030322 ... the swinger of birches today i have to go to julian's school. in his art class they are supposed to research an artist and do a project about them. it was intended to be a famous artist, which i am of course not, but julian wanted to do me so he asked his teacher. she gave him the okay so today i get to go talk to a bunch of urban sixth graders. i am really preparing myself for someone to call me a faggot or for some very annoying questions like what does this mean? even though it doesn't mean anything it's just a painting with brush strokes and color. i don't know what i was thinking when i painted it. i was thinking about what each color meant to me and how they made me feel. there is no story to tell, just color and how it makes you feel. what does it mean to you? that is what i should ask them. nonetheless, julian is excited and i've thrown together a very fast version of a portfolio since mine is at home. i'm also bringing my photos so that the kids can see art is just not in painting or drawing, that it is in everything. and that any medium can express art or capture it. i'm nervous. i am never this nervous about presenting myself, i think it may be because i don't want to embarrass julian. my dad is dropping me off at 1:45 and i have to stay there till three when he picks julian up. i really hope that i come at the last period of the day because i have an idea that sitting around will feel awkward. in any case, i'll be happy when the experience is over. then shawn is coming to pick me up and we are going to jack's to watch lubumba because jack's mother thinks that i look like the guy who played riche vallen. which i see no resemblance but if she says and they say, then i guess i have something. we're basically just going to act stupid and make fun of the movie the entire night, i'm farely sure that is what will happen. jack is fun to be with, we make things a good time. shawn is vulgar and rude at times, but he is a good person. i could be going to the university with my dad since he teaches tonight, but i think i'm going to do this instead. besides there is really nothing at the capmpus that i haven't seen. well friend, i'll write more later. i hope that you are doing okay. the more i try to get in touch the more i realize that the task seems overwhelming. take care. i'm think about you often. 030326 ... the swinger of birches i talked to daniel today, it was brief but i relished every moment. talking with daniel is like opening a window in a stuffy room. he got suspended from school for three days for not showing up for saturday detention. we both that was totally bogus, but it was out of school suspension so i think daniel really didn't mind. what we talked about that i want to tell you is this: daniel likes to go on the roof and smoke cigarettes and look at the stars. last weekend he wanted us to go on the roof but instead we watched a movie. i think it is fascinating how daniel clings to the roof. it is his place. he goes to get away from everything. he told me that it's like detaching and seeing the world in a whole different way than just from ground level. i think about the roof. daniel says he is not close with his parents. he says that when he moves out, if they never call him, he will probably never talk to them. i think this is sad friend, not because i think it's wrong, but because i think about my mom and how much she puts forth an effort to show me that she loves me. i think what is sad is that some kids never grow up in an environment where they feel they are needed. daniel has a nice home, he wears nice clothes, he has a guitar and all the equipment for recording demos. i want to go on the roof with daniel and lay back and look up with my head resting on my arms and talk about everything we talk about. i want to smoke cigarettes and talk about girls and love. i want him to see the stars in iowa. i think daniels roof is like being in an entirely different world. i think that is his place where he is god and everything is subject to change. it is like fantastic place to breathe and when you leave, i think you feel refreshed. somehow i just want to share that. it would be nice to get away and see things how daniel does. 030326 what's it to you? who go blather from