seven_emails_from_seven_people flux hey, sorry i haven't checked my e-mail in awhile. anyway, it might be a awhile before i can go down there. is a little crazed around here lately. anyway, do you still go to game night ever? if so, let me know cuz i still go occasionally. so ya let me know. :) ... D'oh!! I got totally swamped working a job in SF for a few days and then catching up on schoolwork. Take 2 - Got a little while on sunday or monday or tuesday? After that is no go until next week because of rosh hashana. ... Anything going on today? I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of bored. ... A little too much going on in my end. I'll tell you about it some other time. Things are up in air and I dont know when I ll be in the bay area next. Lets wait out a week, and I will tell you when. I was wondering what happened too you. I miss BM :( Badly. I wish I was there too! ... word up. not much going on here. just working and playing hopscotch. lemme know where you are, should hang out some time. ... Haha, you have good timing. I haven't been online in quite awhile. Had an absolutely insane final week in Juneau, spent another week driving up through Canada, surrounded by forest fires and smoke, and have been trying to figure out dorms and admissions and schedules ever since. Classes start tomorrow. Luckily I weaseled my way into the honors program and managed to avoid quite a few of the freshman prerequisites. English, political science, communication, calc, and Japanese are what I ended up with. Plus lots of extracurricular contra dancing and dumpster diving. (Found a brand new microwave yesterday, going to change the fuse and hope it comes to life) Fixed up my garage-sale bike today, so I'm headed to Fred Meyers to test out the brakes. Likewise, have much to write, and no time in which to write it. I'll have internet in my room as soon as brother gives me a disk with the correct driver, which should be sometime tomorrow. :) Hope you're finding time to eat and sleep during the gaps in your hectic scedule. ... so it's been a computer-research-intensive past 24 hrs. I spent a good portion of yesterday working on the roadtrip route, figuring out how long it takes to get from place to place. Now all i have to do is call up some co-ops in ann arbor and st. paul and hope that they will let us crash there. Today I got car insurance. I feel so unprepared to make these big, grown-up decisions...and that leads me to wonder if anyone ever has any idea what they're doing in these situations. I hardly felt ready for a cell phone, and now I've managed to get insurance for a car. i was going to ask how you viewed "coming of age" with all of its responsibilities and whatnot when you were little compared to how you view it now that you are of age but it seems that you've still managed to avoid a good deal of life's minor complications, and i have to say i'm a little jealous. oh well. i plan on finally finishing The Investigation today. That's about it. I promise that I'll be more interesting when I don't have to spend all my time figuring out logistics. Geh. 040917 ... ovenbird Don’t ask me why I’m doing this, ‘cause I don’t even have an answer. BUT, for some reason, I’m compelled…first off, I’m kinda…well…I’m sorry for all the put downs I give you. No witty remark after that, that’s how it is (you BETTER delete this as soon as you’re done!!!) …………. “whenever I think of our trips through faery land and the trolls etc, I can’t help but think of D. as one of the trolls sitting under the bridge intimidating all the pretty faeries and trying to lure them away with his new flute. What do you think? Bright blessings to you on this rainy Friday.” …………. As always, you have left me wondering. No, you don’t have to wonder– but I do. Speak, if but just once, but do speak. Silence eventually swallows us all. Speak to me gently before we begin, she sighed. …………. Oh yeah, more interesting news, I went to the orthodontist today and we talked about my retainer. I told him I was away all summer and about the fox. He said I shouldn’t have anything to worry about because foxes don’t live this far south, but I think he’s wrong. Foxes do live in the south and apparently they have a really good communication system with other foxes and if the Rainy River area fox doesn’t try to steal my retainer himself, then he’ll surely get a friend or distant relative to do it, and that scares me. …………. I’m playing guitar now. I think I’m going to buy myself a 4-track to record my own stuff. I told my parents that I sang lots this summer for all you guys and they burst out laughing. …………. I miss you soooooo much! To answer your question: nope, I haven’t seen the woodpecker…too bad eh? By my mom’s description i’m thinkin’ he’s a mighty fella. Maybe someday i’ll have to take him on or something in a streetfight. …………. Cherish with me, the wonders of life, as they need to be preserved Rejoice with me, in the mysteries of what is yet to be 260107 ... raze i've missed talking to you. it's really been too long. this whole time i thought i had emailed you back about the gmail telling you i had gotten a code awhile back. so, i tried my code out after i thought i emailed you, and it was expired. i had to email my mom's boyfriend again and ask for one since i thought i denied yours. now i have an account, and haven't gotten around to completely transferring the hotmail account over. or even close. you and my ex-boyfriend currently use this one and that is all. my lj has become very excessive as of late, actually since the last two weeks of the semester, break, and now that i'm back it's only gotten worse. i just have too much to write, and most of it is uninteresting shit. probably better to not write in it than write most of that, but i just can't stop myself. i'm sorry to hear about your teeter-totter event with your obese uncle charlie. that's really no good. i did end up getting accepted to the major as i found out today, which is not really surprising but nice to know. now i need to prepare for the show displaying the new art majors' work. i might even have time this week to finish a series i'm making for my sister with pictures of her and her horse that we had to put down on xmas eve. in other news, i had a fucked up friday (though it was mostly good), a wonderful saturday, and i have a renewed love for alcohol. i finally have some good male friends once again, although they probably have more estrogen than testosterone. i just get sick of all of this female bullshit, and i like having places to escape to that are at the boy's campus. there's definitely different energy over there that is much needed at times. i'm rambling. i usually confide in connie, but since she's involved in some events that i'm sort of unhappy about, i try to put them in my journal. that doesn't work because i don't want to do private entries. i write in a paper journal for that. but i feel like i have to tell SOMEONE. so i try to do exclusive lj lists. this email, however, is reaching "obscenely long" lengths so i think i will stop here, and possibly continue later. . . . wow, i've just realised you have a cowboy's name. if you ask me that's an honour in its own right. oh, january. i like the month. somewhere between loneliness and warmth. it's february that's shaking my organs about, i'm afraid. this little heart of mine is dangling on a thread and today i'm all fingers and thumbs and metaphors and oh dear. you'll hear more about all that nonsense in one of my too-long letters, which i am starting to compile into a small package of sorts. i'm looking forward to your handwriting. i always think that people look so much like their handwriting, such as how a person can be pulped into a song or broken down into fragments of a sentence. i'm blabbering on. blabbering may be one of the most unattractive words in the english language. also, i've discovered that the word "calculations" is a beautiful thing to write. sometimes i sound so formal i want to kick myself in the ear. . . . i think my health is going to be okay. thanks for reading, and expressing concern. i've been feeling quite depressed, and worried, and don't know what's wrong with me. i am scared ... but i think it's going to be okay maybe (probably). i don't know. i can only think and hope. you'll definitely have to visit when i get my own place, and bring your musicalness and stuff with you. i'm hoping that i can actually get a big enough place to have space for guests (artists, organic gardeners, 'skites, whoever and their friends and their dogs and their dogs's friends or even their cats and their cat's friends or little budgies or goldfish etc). would write more, but not sure what else to say right now. "emotionally ancient, but still soft and chewy on the inside." i liked that. . . . healing is an art. it is something that comes by practice. it does not occur on your own time. many moments of reflection and deflection must happen in between. sometimes we have to wait for the moment to cast us into its wake. never is the result something cohesive. it is more like still_life animation. each time the camera stops the figure is adjusted to meet the foreground, creating in stilted motion a simulated picture of continuous life. only when you are there in the stops and starts trying to make something of what you have been dealt does the motivation to move along come into play. you play. i play. we play together. thank god, we have each other. no need to write this down, we all know what i mean. i feel for you. i feel for you. what do i feel? today i said: never ask why, only ask how. how has a direction. why is only a wall made of all that we are fearful to overcome. why becomes irrelevant after so many attempts to deny the past. why is the question we ask to thwart the path we think we are not fit to travel. though we know we are. how is the next millisecond between the animations of our play. feel it. be brave. be more than you ever expected. move, forward. with your body long across the bed, mind restless with thought. trying to resolve. think of me. i think of you. i think of the piano. you can think of my voice, and my only tooth. we are together against a watercolour background, moving slowly, towards the antithesis. broken chords tie us to some slant purpose, where on every other day we meet. we part ways at eight or nine. leaving behind soiled suits we cannot remember buying. the residue becomes a video or a song. songs of love that drain our hearts. every morning, or evening, in_between beats. we are in_between the "segmentation" and the "cadence" of every song. before we open our eyes, in_between the stop and start of the camera. before we start another vignette. we are less. not hollow. or shallow. not naive or bent. just less than we were yesterday. lighter, feather weight. thinned ink. when you are there, i am there. that's when the music happens. that is the part of the art of healing that only you, or i, or that someone we do not know yet understands. we say, i feel for you. i feel for you. i feel. where this is leading us? in_between counts. in_between motion. lying long across the bed. daydreaming of rose gardens and deep saffron coloured buds exploding. not because the mind is sad, but because the mind is ready. i feel for you. i feel you feel for me. friendliness. exclusively. we are in the art of healing. i lay long across my bed and think of fingers tapping ivory and black keys. falling like summer rain. the last note splashes me in the eye. i laugh out loud. though, it is my eye that laughs the loudest. blinded by a refractive bead of water. i only see one half and the rest does not matter to me anymore. we are the art of healing. hoping forward. . . . we can't choose our labels. the choice of instrumentation does that for us. more of my research says there are no "right" musicians, only "least wrong". counterfeit money at par. variations without a theme. . . . i woke up lost as pencils that rolled onto the floor. i imagine a world where i can spend time with everyone i love and not be detached as a semi automatic barrel. i looked at a music contract. dream come true turned to nightmare. and i was a superhero. my hair was puffy and ink dark. i read every word. i can't sign this i said. i have a lover to think about. i have the obligation to sing whatever the fuck i want. and since i gave them forty bucks the credit card company has been more than willing to cover the cost of guitar strings and i steal nail polish. so. you know. i wrote some new songs that no one likes. so. you know. i've been thinking about you. floating. and i can't believe how little we know each other. how i can't assume anything about another because who the fuck am i? there were book signings and glamour. there were silk stockings edged in french lace and plump moist lips. there was cocaine and table cloths. i dreamed of a daughter with white blonde hair and cat glasses. she was seven. she was wearing planets. the tension was unprecedented. the love was sharp and painful. it was all i could think about. mostly i spend time in ways that are usual and monotonous. i'm thinking about you. i miss you. always. . . . blast from the past indeed. 260107 what's it to you? who go blather from