Monday, February 28, 2005


some days the entire day is gold star. today was that. gold star. and it started with talk about things from stars and moved on to medals and now it's actual stars. they are probably really red. or green. please at least one orange star. oh, do they have to explode? most likely. that's gotta hurt.

round a corner suddenly hear voices. not like j. of a. but voices in a present presently occupied. that voice is decidedly unnice. how even not attached to a visible face it is somehow scowling. no. not scowling. but worse. condescending? maybe. but no. it just seeks the lowest elevation. so heavy. if there was a star, ten stars, settled on some defining ridge it would remain in a trench. worse it would obscure light. if we were writing poetry it would be like now. it would be like an exploded star. it would be like suction. it would be like absent striving present. but we aren't doing that. neither am i. expounding perhaps. and not very. anyway, the moment the face and the voice merge is dreadful. groping dark until the pull has been lagged. then february sunshine. i remember the sun. i've seen it and it's made of burning gas.

well. enough of that.

my lips are so very chapped. the beeswax is not helping. i think i need me some water. yes. some heavy rest would be swell, too. to that end.

Sunday, February 27, 2005

brownie two...

it's started to rain again. how's that for forecasting. rhetorical.

i've cleaned the brownie. think brownie little person that milks cows. otherwise. well, otherwise it doesn't sound as it should. but really think brownie camera because it's brownie camera that i cleaned. there's a slight crack in a piece of molding. i don't think it penetrates. we'll see if the light leaks.

made saag paneer for supper. i luuurve. yes. and it's fast. and there's rice. or maybe (avert eyes) tortillas.

the saucer magnolia and the redbud dropped all of the flowering parts. so i had just twigs in my jar. but since they've gone green. so i'll have to hang on anyway. rooting compound and some soil. what do i need with more trees. again rhetorical.

the fur people are looking daggers at me. i've tipped that great rose in the sky and everything is very wet. they know it's me and there's no convincing them. just like on sunny days they love what i've done. i don't think they think in terms of gods. but in terms of moms. and i'm a mean mom tonight.

i took a sip in the morning a few of those back. and it hurt like a thing that hurts. and rather than refrain from the hot thing another sip. another. another. this is not the proper course. but a sip is nice. a sip doesn't finish.

however i do. rain is a drowsy sound. and alarm a lousy one.



i've been searching in the shed for the polaroid for quite some time now. no luck. and this afternoon i tried again. still no luck. but i found something even more interesting. a baby brownie special. after inquiry i found that it was my grandma's. she used it frequently. that makes me happy. it seems to be in good order. i've found a place that sells 127 film. i'm going to give it a whirl.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

beautiful day!

so, so nice today. and the biggest clover leaf i've ever seen! wow.


last night the walk was more peopled. s.b. came along. directly above town clear sky. margins fog. a nice ring. and the moon was high and very very bright. my favorite lamppost is engulfed in white plum. ditches banked with frog froth.

it was about this time last year that i really began reading weblogs. i put on a certain song and drank a certain cup of tea. and then, i put on a certain song and drank a certain cup of tea and remembered. who was that guy? who was that french guy with his tomes and his lime tea? him. i only have swann's way. probably appropriate somehow. swans are just big birds. lindens cloudy trees. straw tassles and recurrent rustle. the anonymous tune. birds birds birds birds.

so. cornering fast makes for tilt. makes for spill. or topple. so it keeps raining. and there's a redbud unsealing the slippers jaws hinges. under a downpour. one day of sun says so. points to. submersion again. an area of flux before settling. i almost said. but no. we almost said. again no. it's a temper. a few ice grains on molten strings. a weaver. that's the current state of the weather.

wellidy. sleep. oh yes.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005


in one of cheburashka's adventures he, gena, and shapocliak ride the roof of a caboose. gena plays his accordion and sings. he mugs for the camera as they ride into the sunset.

slowly are minutes floating away
don't expect to meet them anymore
even if giving up the past is a bit sad
everything the best is still ahead
like a carpet, like a carpet
a long road unrolls ahead
and it pushes up against the sky
everyone, everyone believes in the best
rolling and rolling ahead, a blue wagon
accidentally we might have hurt someone
the calendar will not keep that day
to all new adventures we are rushing, friends
hey, train driver, add some speed for us

i only used the punctuation that they used in the subtitles. which isn't much. if i read this someplace i'd probably cringe, but when sung by a crocodile it makes me very happy.

i love rain but i wouldn't mind a break in the weather. having to spend the day rushing from one dry place to the next quickly loses any likeness to game.

Monday, February 21, 2005

insert title here...

preparing for bed and listening to bjork when the door suddenly blew in. the gusts are incredible tonight!

i've discovered the holga camera. it seems made for me. mostly because i don't know anything about photography. i'm going to get one. oh yes. in the meantime i think i'll play with the old polaroid.

there's a rottweiler across town that continually manages to sound phlegmy. it's bothersome. and gross. i can't walk by his house without all hell breaking loose. first he barks at me and my dogs. then he barks at whatever is nearest him. then he barks at his companion rottweiler. then a terrible brawl betwixt them ensues. every. damn. time. oh, and he tries to high jump the fence as well. thankfully, he's been unsuccessful thus far.

it's late. i'm turning in.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

i think therefore i think...

she wanted to interview me. the topic: philosophy. puzzling for me. mystery questions because i just have a little to go on. what i can recall from a long time ago. the big s. the big p. the big a. and anaximander. anaxagoras. xeno---. descartes and his automatons (and i hope he was redressed as a proctor and gamble rabbit). voltaire. just little bits of big people. so why me? i still don't know.

she: tell me something you know.
me: i don't understand...
she: tell me something you know. what is one thing that you know?
me: i.... what are you asking? where's the...??
she: it's simple. i'm not tricking you. what do you know?
me: um...i.... my dog's name is lola.
she: oh! how do you know that?
me: i gave her the name.
she: i see. (grinning...pen scratching)

but i really don't know. but she comes when i say those sounds. we agree to do this. and when i said lola the she of questions had no trouble knowing l-o-l-a. she had no trouble copying it down. so what i gave the quad-lola for a name must have some stick. musn't it? adhesive. we agree. don't we agree. or cohesive. dear oh dear.

but i'm still not sure.

allo? allo? allo?

lol. lol. lol.

that's really what i was afraid of.

Saturday, February 19, 2005


it just won't quit raining. we took lola into it. willie stayed behind. he catches a chill with ease.

a white swayback in black clay stockings. a white plum-- tissue and wind-- shivering. ditches barely hold their breadth.

i'm knackered. yawn.


first consequence of making the bed is insomnia. the next is early wake up call from asia. yes, yes.

the wind is high now. raining. i'm going to have to bust out soon. stir.

had a dream about harajuku. why would i? dunno.

Friday, February 18, 2005


hail earlier. is falling water that falls upward then down. etc. etc. each lift is a layer. so someplace it ends in golfballs. so sayeth science. approx.

i can't drive a stick well. tomorrow i go to try. it's another option. options are good. i can opt then.

so many things are not available so. where we are born, for instance. that we are born, another. everything after, i suppose, is changeable. or is it.

if nothing else, i have sound. and vibration is very democratic. not elitist. if you sit with it long enough it will fuck you up good. ends in a gasp. begins that way, too. geography and sects all lost. a rustle. pockets turned. poor, poor, petey.

well. i think i hear someone calling me.


Thursday, February 17, 2005


once, when he was under me, he suddenly stopped moving. laid down. wouldn't continue. he had eaten wet feed. it's a particular sickness. so i grabbed his reins and yarded. up! get up! and spent the next several hours walking it off. his sides bellowing out. so bloated. and after a while someone came and shook me because i'd fallen asleep. i was leaning on him. asleep on my feet. and i confess that i loved the tack room. it smells like sweat and molasses and groats. dust is unavoidable. armatures. oily leather. it's a converted boxcar. there's a barrel of sweet grain and a cache of metal combs. a rattlesnake. blankets. outside he paces the wire when i scuff the floor.

there are some who can twist a hackamore from a length of cord. i can't. but mostly i never needed the skill. he kept his nose to my elbow, out the gate, and after, back again. but that was a pony. i think i'm even too tall for that now.

all of this brought to you by the letter o. because today was a day of oats. yum.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005


invited by the sister and s.b. to watch the film sabrina. audrey hepburn and humphrey bogart. not that other one. how did that lady get to be so damn cute? it's unnatural, i tells ya. and bogart shushing through his teeth all the live long day.

i think i've managed to make friends with big orange the taiwanese rice pot. i made jasmine rice. and (gasp) thai green curry from a jar! a jar! but my kaffir donated a leaf which improved the quality.

a short week this week. woo-hoo! woo-hoo, i say!

today, right-handedly, i departed from the late lord tennyson. thank heavens. i began copying the lyrics to nature boy (as rendered by lisa ekdahl). fools and kings. but somehow it continued to be foals and kings. since foals are foolish 's okay. i guess. i just can't make that following o. i can't fake it.

pink plum blossom. white plum blossom. red quince. the distressed desk. so nice i could curl up and sleep there.

it's like a david lee roth tune...

this seems to be going around.

Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa/ Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington, D.C.

and if i have it right: bold is where i've been. underlined, where i've lived. italicized, where i am presently living.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005


during a nap i had a dream that i could draw. and the drawings actually resembled something recognizable. that's how i knew it was a dream.

i saw/heard some interesting things this afternoon. a room where speakers of all variety hung from the wall. one of them made bird sounds. most of them mumbled instruction. a pen drew black snow when he spoke to it. the analog looked like no and said no no no no no no no in fluctuating tones and urgency. there were letters on the walls, too. all very strange. a record that was dictating to oblivion. i think they call this installation.

the sister nicked a begonia leaf for me. safely secured in glass now. soon roots will be forcing their way in. they say i've corrupted her. but she offered before i could even request. rex. green and cherry dark.

it rained today and i was wearing cons. all*stars. and my feet got all wet. and it made me a tad disgruntled.

the right-handedness is progressing very rapidly. yay! everytime i need to write something and i have the option of taking my time about it i use the right hand. why? i'm not sure. i just think it would be neat-o to pick up a pen with either hand and do that thing we do do do. next, i'd like to learn to write in reverse. i like to read that way sometimes because it sounds vowely and pretty and strange. i want to write that way, too.

over and out.

Monday, February 14, 2005


last night we went for coffee. sb, sister, s.b.'s sister and yours truly. they had to study for an exam. political science. they continued to refer to f.d.r. as alternately, "wheely mcgee" and "hotwheels." both were highly inappropriate and very, very amusing. i practiced playing with numbers and also writing the same poem over and over with my right hand. i'm left-handed. well, i write left-handed. most everything else i do right-handed. i have had some practice with right-handed writing because of a horse riding accident i had when i was thirteen or so. i fractured the southern paw's adjoining appendage. i even had a plaster cast. incidentally, the poem i wrote and rewrote was via lord alfred the rhymey. it was one of the first bits of poetry i ever memorized. and no, not "half a league half a league half a league..." but "i sometimes hold it half a sin...." tenny looooves that same fraction. i confess, it's one of my favorites, too. although, three-quarters are nice.

insomnia last night. that, in part, due to a certain devil's piss of a beverage. should stick to green tea. yes, yes. in fact, who was that fellow, "happy now?" because he thought i was carrying coffee but really carried tea this morning. hmm. i said, "green tea!!!" quite defiantly. defiance. yes. that's me. and the fellow is a friend that will forever resemble bud court as far as i'm concerned.

today is the day. the red plush day. the guillotine. the chocolate. the jazz infested day of all love days. the inflamed labial paper exchange day. the banner talk radio phone in day. the acrylic, scratchy, priced to sell thong day. that very day.

i must say, i much prefered this day when it meant rolling tissue paper blossoms on my pencil eraser. the possibility of receiving a small white envelope in a small paper bag taped to the front of my grubby school desk. yes. heart-shaped ice in my punch glass. a run-and-kiss game and we calling "nonny nonny billy-goat! you can't catch me!" but they did. and it was fun.

but really, it's a nice day. and i'll go stalking around with my mechanical eye, gadgeted memory and try and capture some sight. ephemera.

happy, happiest of love days. please, for goodness sake, cuddle or something. cuddle like the dickens.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

and also...

#45 to meet one's lover

to meet one's lover summer is indeed the right season. true, the nights are very short, and dawn creeps up before one has had a wink of sleep. since all the lattices have been left open, one can lie and look out at the garden in the cool morning air. there are still a few endearments to exchange before the man takes his leave, and the lovers are murmuring to each other when suddenly there is a loud noise. for a moment they are certain they have been discovered; but it is only the caw of a crow flying past in the garden.

in the winter, when it is very cold and one lies buried in the bedclothes listening to one's lover's endearments, it is delightful to hear the booming of the temple gong, which seems to come from the bottom of a deep well. the first cry of the birds, whose beaks are still tucked under their wings, is also strange and muffled. then one bird after another takes up the call. how pleasant it is to lie there listening as the sound becomes clearer and clearer.

--sei shonagon, the pillow book

some valentiney goodness...

The Good-Morrow

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then,
But suckled on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in seven sleepers' den?
'Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.

And now good morrow to our waking souls,
Which watch not one another out of fear;
For love all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room of everywhere.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have shown
Let us possess one world; each hath one, and is one.

My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp North, without declining West?
Whatever dies was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or thou and I
Love so alike that none do slacken, none can die.

--john donne

So they came
into that bed so steadfast, loved of old,
opening glad arms to one another...
The royal pair mingled in love again
and afterward lay revelling in stories:
hers of the siege her beauty stood at home
from arrogant suitors, crowding on her sight,
and how they fed their courtship on his cattle,
oxen and fat sheep, and drank up rivers
of wine out of the vats.

Odysseus told
of what hard blows he had dealt out to others
and of what blows he had taken-- all that story.
She could not close her eyes till all was told.

--homer (the epic poet, not of doh! fame. yummy goodness from the odyssey, one of my all time favorite pieces of literature)

I ask you, sir, to
stand face to face
with me as a friend
would: show me the
favor of your eyes


I confess
I love that
which caresses
me. I believe

Love has his
share in the
Sun's brilliance
and virtue.



i would say i'm terrible at mathematics, but that isn't entirely true. i think maybe i'm just more interested in other things so i don't endeavor to cozy up to math. but using the known to find the unknown is handy. equations. means on the end of my tongs i pick up math morsel. mmm.

in other instances (i'm not sherlock) what do i have? use the unknown to find the known and mostly i'm tongless. deduction but. hmm. dunno. speculative. dunno. dunno.

there are some things that won't weather direct address. and so speculate where i can't ask. is it fleeting? where do you walk? with whom? how fast?

moreover, how do? how do?

i retain letters because they retain. fold and unfold again. and cranes. boats. hovercraft. there's a certain attachment to transport. i'm stamped and still remain. on account of fondness. stupidly poor form. that's my part.

handball is a forced monologue. i say good day! dismissive. i say good-bye, sir! and bye and bye and bye and bye back again. which is an unhappy return. a holding pattern. a flight recorder.

there is one here. there is one there. there's no sign in the middle. no extending instrument. no tidy edge. no backward working check.

my math is not as bad as that.

must to sleep. g'night.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

again, again...

odd how things repeat. cycle over. saw a picture of a waldorf case (i think it was. it looked like one, anyway.) and started thinking about springtime and train rides. and then today there were gardenias at the market which made me think of the train station. going through tunnels. riding at night. where for long stretches there is nothing out the window but a white light, perpetual, the gloss of one eye reflected there and back and there and back. sometimes faint orange light far off in fields. silos and refineries. and then with frequency. and then san jose. just like that.

so, hello, hello up there in the bay area. i'm sorry i didn't get to visit. april appears to be the soonest. hang tight, d.

ps-- i resent "april is the cruelest month..." not so!

right about sunset we went for a walk. the quince! wow! they're absolutely fluorescent! and the plums are starting in stark white. even s.b. likes those and he's not big on flowers. gentian in the ditches. snowdrops. daffodils. and frogs. just deafening. once, during a lecture, my prof said that there are accounts of russian serfs having to beat the pond waters so their masters could sleep. i like the sound. frogs, not serfs.

genmai-cha. tonight's beverage of choice. toasty brown rice/green tea duo. rice crackers with those yummy peas.

it's laundry night. the socks come back from the front in singles. widow-makers. inevitably, i wash either a small, inconspicuous squid, or an ink pen. piebald t-shirts thereafter. and chlorine bleach is not the fix-all its purveyors would have us believe. hmph.

tonight is shaping up to be one of those very fine coldish spring nights. and there's nothing like a very clean bed and very clean room and morningstar burning to fall asleep to.

Friday, February 11, 2005

dehiscent fruit...

the last time my brother was back in the states for christmas ('03) he bequeathed unto me the rice cooker he had initially brought home from taiwan in anticipation of his permanent residency in california. plans changed. rice cooker is mine. it's a bright, orangey-red affair. i like it a lot, but its capacity is far greater than i need. we already have a little single serving rice cooker which is quite adequate. but i'm a sucker for this other's orangey good looks. last night was the first time i attempted to use it. all of the instructions are in chinese. i don't speak chinese. i don't read chinese. i am chinese-less. after several false starts the jasmine rice cooked up nicely. yay! and that, my friend, is one anticlimactic tale. so.

bequeathed is ugly to look at. somehow i still like it. why is that?

i found a new word today. regmacarp, n.-- any kind of dry, dehiscent fruit. i'll try to drop it into sentences. it's the only way to retain. sure, it sounds awkward at first. please, could you pass the regmacarp? but education is like that. devastating w. devastating k. devastating w. until maybe someone...yes, of course, have one of mine.

bitter melon. jewel weed. man-underground.

a new spider plant. sometimes when i come home people have left little gifts for me. this was one of them. it's a really nice spider. loooong arms and small pups. there was also a christmas cactus. very healthy. two new plants in one week. generous. so generous. once when i came home there was a wild boar skull hanging in a plastic sack from the front gate. there was a bullet hole in the bone. sort of ominous. but it was a gift from a good neighbor who has known me since i was very wee and knows i like skulls. it's one of my favorites. he also left some agaves and aloes one day. like having my own boo radley. i give him tomatoes sometimes. sometimes he gives them to me. i'm glad to know people like that. benevolent slinkers.

i wish i had a bag of ripe tomatoes right now. thai fried rice. mmm.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

prima dino...

some dinosaurs are easier to work with than others. let's just say that when the orangasaurus says he wants pellegrino with a twist, he means now.

i'm sleepy.

sensing a trend?

i picked a fistful of jasmine today! whoooot! it's blooming over on the coast. it smells so, so good. like banana and bitter almond and decay. spicy. last spring i made ice cream from the blossoms. recipe from a book from chez panisse. a dessert book. maybe next time i'll make the blood orange sorbet. fun.

i overslept this morning because i was having a strange dream about a bizarre man-ape (giant) rising from a body of water. hmm.


Tuesday, February 08, 2005

everyone kisses a stranger...

wellidy. the dino review will be postponed. sigh. maybe i should have said tension tension tension. and anyway, waiting makes it better. i'm sleepy and flickr will be down for awhile this evening. but i'll deliver tales of prehistoric passion soon.

in other news...did i mention, perhaps, that i'm sleepy? as the elves are fond of whispering: i am, i am. errm. and two song lyric references is quite enough for one post. g'night!

Monday, February 07, 2005

don't be afraid of the cat from the future...

tenses. tenses. tenses. cases of them. i'll return with them soon. tomorrow night. hold tight. yes. and be prepared for the spectacle that awaits you. pocket-sized epic of love and dinosaurs (the prehistoric says so on the package) and more love and more dinosaurs and landscapes and tabletops and wardrobe changes and and and.

exeunt all.

Saturday, February 05, 2005

rewind, unwind...

the dad will be 75 in a few months. he visited earlier in the week and again this afternoon. upon arrival and farewell i suggested rubbing elbows instead of the usual hug/kiss. he doesn't need the bug i'm kicking right now. i've decided i really hate nyquil. a pox on you, blue capsules!

we talked about sylvan-ish williams syndrome. cats. the state of the euro. comic strips. what happened to the recycling center. lola-dog. yarn. asparagus. rhubarb. constance rice. speculative fiction. jules verne's mysterious island. robinson crusoe (he's reading it for the thirtieth time or so. he loves that one.) tangerine and loquat trees. in short, it was a nerdfest.

i picked night-stock last week. in the evening it starts filling the house with the smell of cloves and sugar. quite nice. except my sinuses really aren't appreciative right now. it feels like a rodent has set up camp in there. grr.

the phrase "my favorite ungulate" keeps cycling through my head. did i invent that? i think perhaps i did. but maybe i read it someplace. i'll google.

a dream about a puma in a car. the puma exits the car. he wraps his paws around me and tries to do me in. oh the humanity! but suddenly he lets me go. i walk in the house. i hear a noise and tip-toe out to the lawn. a giant crane is hovering about the grass. and on the grass is an infant crane. it has a red tummy warmer cinched around his middle. it has the head of a japanese baby. but the baby head has delicate white down for hair instead of human hair. it's beautiful. and strange.

dahlias. the sister has convinced me of their beauty. we'll grow some.

i say good day.