Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Yesterday I wrote that animal was my theme for the day.
I had no idea what that would entail, until later.

I immersed myself in hunger, in longing, in pleasure. Never satisfied and continually desiring.

Fortunately, I've been working on a project that is production oriented. It didn't require the intense amount of critical thinking most projects do. In that, I needed to take periodic breaks away from the data. This allowed me to be with the driving force within.

Shamelessly, I continued to reach out, expressing myself. The fire raged and continued to grow. I was living in a different reality, not one of control and caution…not my typical Capricorn self.

My beast cried, clawed and growled, seeking food and release.

Later in the afternoon something hit me. I saw what I let myself step into. Embarrassment set in. And fear.

I was mortified that I had revealed such darkness, not only to myself but to another. Over and over.

Reaching our nakedness is a matter of peeling off layers. This was the most naked I'd been thus far. There have been many times where my animal has come out to play. But I clearly remember only one other moment where I felt it and not only didn't want to leave, but wanted to reveal more.

Yesterday, once I saw where I let myself go, that space terrified me. The hunger was enormous. I've never in my adult life, experienced such desire nor had I ever shown another this extent of aching desire. I'm lusty as hell, but in context, this was new for me. It scared me because for many hours I played and swam in a dark pool and now wondered if I could lose myself in that. If so, who was I really? Where was the independent person who didn't need anyone?

I feel blessed to have the experience. It has shown me a deeper self and there is much to mull over.

Who am I under all those covers?
Can I exist in multiple realities?

How do I live a life of integrity which includes my beast?

After writing the above I see that I didn't lay out my biggest fear.

In the space I was in yesterday, as the one from a few years back, in touching that aspect of animal, I didn't want to leave.

I craved to go further, deeper, darker and not return to the person I currently know as me.

I felt comfortable in that place and longed to remain.

So with continued exploration, I fear I will become so enthralled with what feels like home that all I am now will disappear and I'll become a being, caught in their primitive nature. There is a little more to this fear but my blog isn't the place for it.


Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

I caught an episode of Buffy last night about the animal within us. It was the story where Oz begins to recognize that the beast was a part of him all the time, not only when the wolf shows itself during the full moon.

There was a scene where Oz is welding his cage, making the bars even stronger. Looking at those metal bars was a real turn on.

A little later I watched Beer Bad when Buffy and others became primitive beings, with no other concern but simple, urgent immediate wants.

This morning upon my arrival at work I was reminded of those from an email I received, and a while later, it was reinforced again when with camera in hand, wondering what I'd shoot, I went out on the deck and noticed the caged light. It's my theme for today.

Returning to my animal. Accepting it.

Being caged. Used. Tormented. Arriving at a place of no words…growls being the only sound. In that, I simply am. There is no guilt or shame for whatever emotions arise. Instead, it's a space of authenticity. Stripping away the veil woven by years of living.

Stepping back into animal is a gift. Learning to integrate who I currently am with my primitive self is a delicate skill. Doing this with one I can trust is brilliant.

Monday, February 26, 2007

I want to be home...painting. I felt it when I woke. Maybe I'll take some vacation time and leave a couple hours early.

One cool thing about our office is that we feed our volunteers. This weekend, the grants review committee and the scholarship review committee were both meeting, simultaneously.

I walked in the office, wondering what I was going to do for food today, other than the banana and apples in my hand. Opening the refrigerator I noticed a ton of leftovers. Coldcuts. Cheeses. I think there are bagels in there as well. Score!

But I still would rather be home painting.
And jacking off.
(It's your fault, you know...)

Heh. Previewing this entry I noticed a similarity between this photo and the detail of yesterday's painting.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

This is only a b&w detail of one of the new two pieces I worked on today.

I wasn't feeling well and opted not to work on the two paintings I've spent the last couple days on. Instead, I chose to begin something new.

There was an image I was working on for an art meme. It was supposed to be shipped out about a month ago but I never did. You see, I wasn't fully comfortable with it. Definitely not satisfied. I had worked and reworked the image in ink. Page after page filled with messes. Each time it fell short. And I couldn't even think of working on the 3rd, 4th or 5th art pieces until I had this one completed.

Today, I decided to try it in oils. And it happened. It came together quickly and I'm pleased.

I love it when it happens like that. It was surprising and a total joy.

B, once it dries, I am honored to finally send it your way.

The weekend isn't turning out as planned.
Instead, it's even better.

Yesterday, while watching an episode of Buffy, I was hit with the fact that I had to paint. Not the little ink paintings I've been doing since October but I knew it was time to return to oils and it had to be right away.

So I packed up all the ink work and materials, went into my art closet and pulled out the oil supplies.

I began two paintings yesterday and worked on them again today. One is from observation and the other from my head...going back and forth between both.

The experience has been very emotional for me. But then again, working in oils always is. Of all the methods of doing art, oils are my biggest passion. It has a place in my heart that nothing else can fill. And when I ignore it for too long, it never fails to let me know.

August 2005 was the last time I had worked in oils.

I had planned on going to a show yesterday where a friend's short films were going to be screened. But once I began painting, I knew I couldn't go. The only time I made it out was for a couple drinks and some food. Today, I kept to myself and tomorrow will be the same.

When working, I become very protective of my alone time. Even though I may not be actively painting the whole time, I need to stay in the space...that energy. With too many people the energy is diverted.

My painting time becomes all about art and sex. They work hand in hand. The more I paint, the more sexual I become. And I like it that way.

Friday, February 23, 2007

Many memories are sitting in my body.
Anticipation dwells there as well.

Are we tired of mercury being retrograde yet? We still have another couple weeks.
My rent was raised again. This means that in 12 months, I've had 3 increases, now totalling $135.

My car is much zippier, very happy, and the cost came in at $100 less than the estimate.

I plan on doing a few fun projects this weekend and then I can get packages in the mail. This will include doing some painting. Not sure where I'm going with the work or even how to approach it. I've had lots of hesitancy and struggled with some feelings of worth in regards to the art. I hope to dig in and see what's happening.

That's all for now.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Due to the fact that my little pig has had a new home for the last couple months and so has no longer been living in my office...

...and because of my foul people-hating mood today, my coworker brought me an edible pig fetus (as he called it) from the Chinese bakery - Lotus (Hot Sen) Egg.

I'm in a funky space.
Feeling somewhat private with more of my internal life than usual...

Before my eyes even opened, there was a film playing on the screen of my lids, compiled of shorts that consisted of many interactions I've had with people in my life. I could see the positive coming from each of these, but what struck me most was that these specific experiences left more brokenness than goodness.

I saw myself as a statue, mostly chipped away from years of hard weather.

This brought on a sadness and although still dark and barely awake, I grabbed my black dildo for consolation. Being despondent left me dry, so a little lube and I rammed it in my hole. Filling almost made me cum. I wanked off to release and then, still not satisfied, did it again.

From there I fell back asleep, my cunt quite full and holding the dildo in place.

Today I'm leaning strongly on the few I trust and feel quite uneasy about the rest of the population.

Walking home yesterday, these pigeons made me smile. They can't read signs.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

I saw more spring on the way home from work today.
The jaunt to work saw frost on my car windows and the walk home was filled with warm weather and sunny skies. Spring really is coming.

Another full day and not much time to compile thoughts.

My Corolla failed emissions testing yesterday. Although 7 years old, it has 68,000 miles on it. I bought it used 5 years ago and have only put 28,000 on it in that time. It's in the shop and will be done by the end of the day. It looks like it's an oxygen sensor. I love it when problems resolve themselves easily.

There's been a calmness sitting inside that I haven't felt in a long time. It's different than anything else I've experienced and so am enjoying this moment. Something broke through yesterday and everything shifted. With each step of this process I become even more grounded in myself. This gives me a greater appreciation for the work I've been doing with my shrink.

Certain phone calls make me happy.

No more morning back aches with the new bed. And I'm sleeping through the night...for a few reasons, one being the fact that I'm losing a heavy attachment I had to a work problem.

There have been complications at work for over a year that have troubled me. Yes, I still love my job and my coworkers. This was added stuff...internal politics. Delicate matters and I know those involved aren't even aware of what they are doing or how it looks.

Many times, I'd wake in the middle of the night because of it. In the last week, I've been able to let go of it. There's nothing I can do about it except to approach each new situation cleanly, with integrity, as it arises. It may involve remaining silent, or grabbing my guts and speaking out. And still venting with a close coworker as needed. It is refreshing to finally get that monkey off my back.

Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

Have a good day everyone!

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

It's a busy day.

I wolfed down a yogurt about 9am, and now am munching on a plate of water crackers, beer cheese and a sliced up granny smith apple. It's a combo breakfast/lunch deal. Easy to eat while I jump into a massive amount of data entry for today.

Last night, I didn't end up painting. But I pushed myself to work a few ink pen drawings because I needed to work.

The image is a bizarre light reflection I noticed on my building Saturday morning. I couldn't figure out what caused it but had to run upstairs and grab the camera so I could capture it before it disappeared.

Maybe I'll have the time to write more later.

Monday, February 19, 2007

A regular day.

I woke in a vulnerable state filled with tenderness. It's a very nice way to greet the day.

Yesterday I painted for the first time in over a month. As I told N, "I really do not want to paint today and that's how I know I have to." Although I didn't work for long...I pulled out 7 pieces. It was a scary experience and one I need to do again tonight for a bit. Little by little I'll work my way back into a routine of sorts.

Thanks to Nayland Blake's heads up, I discovered one of our glbt activist elders, Barbara Gittings, passed away last night. Bad Faggot popped up an entry on her and you can read it here . It kept a part of me in a somber mood all day. Some of my thoughts were of the scholars who receive scholarships from the foundation I work for. These are potentially our future activist leaders. I wondered if any of them even knew of Barbara Gittings or maybe there are a few who will continue her work.

Today was cool, grey and rainy. A very good day to curl up in a blanket with tea and dvds. And a pretty good day for errands and house tweaking. Both were accomplished.

I hit a few stores before picking up Hoss. He wasn't feeling up to par but we managed to spend time in Home Depot, Bed and Bath and then to my house where he put his power drill to good domestic use. Get your minds out of the gutter.

Finally, I have the dark chocolate brown sheets that I've craved for the last four years. I tend to get color ideas before I can find them in the stores. It's simply a matter of biding my time but it can be annoying. When I hankered for the very deep brown linens, I couldn't find them anywhere. They've now been out for a little while and I was simply being cheap. Today, I considered a pack of sheets of another color that were on clearance over the luscious ones. A certain voice entered my head and wouldn't leave until I decided to pick up the brown ones. And I treated myself to a few more things.

A couple episodes of Buffy...a blog entry, and a little painting later. Nothing terribly exciting (except for my new sheets) and all necessary.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

These are ideas for future ink paintings.

I've had a new energy for the last couple days. It's something I really haven't felt in almost a year and so it delights me. Yesterday my new mattress and box spring was delivered. Afterward, I pulled out some curtains I had purchased over a year ago and finally put them up. My big windows face east. Seattle in the summer has the sunlight streaming in about 5 am. So the curtains are crucial for sleeping in and yet, I never had the extra emotional or physical energy to do something even that simple.

I'm down to one set of bedsheets. A little while ago, while masturbating, I tore my other fitted sheet.

When I moved into this apartment I wanted crushed velvet drapes. At a minimum of $50 a panel, it wasn't going to happen. One day, Hoss took me over to Goodwill and I found, in the exact color I wanted, two panels, at $3.99 each. Groovy! So they are up and it allowed me to sleep until 7:30 this morning.

Then I did a little decluttering. From there, as you can all see, I worked on the blog's living space. I have to say that although the page elements portion of the layout for new Blogger is supposed to make it easier, it took me quite a while to set it up. I would have preferred going into the full html code and changing it. When transferring over, I lost all my customized changes and needed to recreate.

But I prefer this. It's cleaner and gives me more room to breathe.

Saturday, February 17, 2007


Last night was the weekly meeting of the Friday Evening Libation Society. Each week, we gather for happy hour at a different bar in town. Meeting around 5:30 or 6, we spend an hour or two with friends and a couple drinks. Some will have noshy bits and others will go for dinner afterwards. It's always a good time. The locations are planned out for a couple months ahead of time. And depending on the venue and energy of a few (or maybe on how many libations have been consumed) varying degrees of perversity may ensue.

The week before I left for NYC, I remember finding myself under the table with my face smashed into the balls of a friend, taking in his scent. He was wearing a kilt and made it easy.

Last night, it was only two short blocks from my house. No trekking for me. There were many new faces who joined us. I didn't know most of the men. And the evening was a tad milder...some feeling up for nipple comparision. I loved the look on this guy's face when he grabbed mine and was shocked because apparently they were bigger than he expected. It's a nice way to have a stranger become a new friend.

I did get a photo of two good friends being affectionate.

Friday, February 16, 2007

Walking for coffee, it was sunny and warm. Looking at a neighbor's window box, I was reminded that spring in Seattle is almost here.

Within one month, this street on the corner of my block will be lined and filled with cherry blossoms. It's one of my favorite times of year.

These buds on the side of my building made me smile.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Yesterday I bought myself a gift - a new mattress and box spring. Waking yesterday was the last straw. I couldn't put it off any longer. I ran out at lunchtime to purchase the pieces and they will be delivered on Saturday. I've needed one for at least 6 months and know full well that part of my sleep problems are due to feeling the springs.

This morning I didn't wake until almost 5 am. Having fallen asleep by 10 pm means the first truly long sleep in over a week. I'm sure a powerful, loving evening didn't hurt.

It's been a strange week since I've returned from my vacation. In addition to dealing with jet lag and sleepless nights, I've felt so disconnected. There was a large sense of being yanked away from my source.

On top of it, what most of you do not know is I was also dealing with emotionally getting ready for surgery. Yesterday, I was scheduled to have at least my right ovary and tube removed because a complex cyst, originally discovered in October, had doubled in size by mid December. The surgeon wanted me to know that depending on what they found, I was looking at the possibility of a full hysterectomy and/or chemo as well.

It was a pretty scary time.

Last Friday I went for a third ultrasound so we could see if it stayed the same or grew some more. I never considered the option that it would diminish. But it did. The cyst decreased by a full centimeter and in speaking with the surgeon on Monday, she was very comfortable with canceling the surgery and taking another look in a few months. We are compiling a history of what my ovaries do and what is considered normal for my body. I am considered okay. And I feel great.

Yesterday while at work, I'd check the time and think "wow, I should be in surgery right now." There was a surreal quality to my day.

So yes, my plate has been very full. Major life changes all over the place.

Speaking of changes, for the last month I've been contemplating a template change for this blog. I've been testing and tweaking the html code and have various possibilities saved in text editor. With the photographs, I want something simpler and it would showcase the work better. Whenever I preview this blog I thoroughly enjoy the plain white that my entry appears as. It would be a big change. So don't be surprised if you pop in and it looks as if you've come to a different place. It's still me.

I look forward to moving forward by jumping back into the painting, pull pieces to see if I can get a show, and immerse myself deeper in another, watching the fear and insecurities slowly slip away.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007


The idea of home has been sitting with me for a while now.
What is home?

The first example of home comes from our parents. Although mine provided a wonderful house, plentiful food, clothes, school and fabulous vacations...the scarcity came in the form of emotional and physical touch. And I believe that it is the emotional and physical which truly gives us our first foundation of home. It allows us to feel secure in another which then assists with creating a self-security.

Feeling safe in the idea of needing and leaning on another is important.

Not having had that, I discovered how to rely solely on myself. Growing up, I learned that home was a physical place. Various locations which captured happy vacations became home for me. Martha's Vineyard, the Cape, Ogunquit. I knew never to look toward a person for a sense of home. It would be me, myself and I in a place that felt safe.

Wow. I just had a realization. A big reason I couldn't see the old house two weeks ago is because I finally knew it wasn't home. It was a lie.

I moved from Nashua NH to Portsmouth because Portsmouth felt like home. My friends thought I was crazy. It was over an hour away, and I didn't know anyone there. And...I spent a happy 6 years. I moved to Seattle, again not knowing anyone when I made the decision, because at the time it felt like a calling home. The first time I drove into Seattle, my little car packed with my belongings, I cried "I've come home."

I remember saying I would never move anywhere for anyone.
People leave. People don't see. People don't really know how to connect.

That was all I knew.

Lately, my entrenched definition of home is getting shaken up. It is quite disruptive because much trust is required.

Trust, I believe, is a word often taken lightly. There are many degrees of trust. But finding a place, that sacred space where it is safe to be yourself and be witnessed by another takes a trust that some days feels almost like too much.

What I know today is that unless I did and still continue to do the hard work of learning to look inside and go into those dark recesses, my scary nooks and crannies, there is no way to stand naked. Without facing myself, I couldn't show another.

In showing another, I get a sense of home.
And in that, our combined strength gives me more courage to delve even deeper.

The first time it happened floored me. It still sometimes freaks me out. It's a place I thought never existed.

I need dark and deep. I need a substance that goes beyond what I previously considered solid. I need something I can sink my teeth into and chew. I need a place where I can feel safe to be who I am and for the other to feel safe as well.

In having tasted that, I've tasted home.
Everything else leaves me wanting...

"Home is where the heart is."
In the past, I considered the phrase to be trite and pretty cheesy.

I am learning the impact of those words.
Thank you.

Happy Valentine's Day.

And before I forget, here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

I'm exhausted and not even sure how long I'll stay at work. Although awake, my eyes didn't want to open and it took all I had to get out of bed. It may be a day to return home to rest.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Life is good. And at the same time, it's been foggy.

Since I've returned from NYC, I have yet to sleep a full night. For the first few nights, I would be up at 3 am. Since Thursday, I've been waking at 3:37 am. Then, I may or may not doze off.

Not sure what's going on. It is odd.

Granted, the earlier part of the week would find me waking with anxious thoughts regarding work and life. But that's ceased, and lately I wake, laying in bed…and very calm. I'm not even freaked by the ungodly hour my eyes open. It's happening for a reason, and I'll trust that with time, it will resolve itself.

The unfortunate side effect is being low energy all afternoon, fuzzy-headed and then sleepy by 7 pm. It takes everything I have to stay awake until even 9 pm. Maybe a severe case of jet lag? Dunno.

Regarding yesterday's entry on blogging, a thought came to me this morning when I woke. I wondered if folks thought I'd cease blogging. For me, it is about connection and that's very important. In addition, with the inclusive of photos, it's become a discipline and a personal challenge.

What began the questioning was when I saw that I couldn't dump thoughts in my private journal and be satisfied with that. From there, one question led to another.

It's important that I periodically check in with myself and ask questions. Nothing remains the same. Even reasons for doing something can change.

I'm still not sure how to resolve the original issue, but this blog isn't going away.

Blogging on blogging.

I've been thinking about blogging lately and how it's changed my journaling practice.

I've kept a journal since I was in my late teens. Very sporadically. Writing would take place in fits and starts, normally when I'd be in the midst of pain only to cease as life smoothed out.

In March of 2003 I began to blog. I can't believe it's been 4 years. I think it's the longest time with a specific practice, other than the 10 years of piano lessons.

Last night I was reading through some of those first entries and needed to stop. They are filled with so much anger and pain. In taking in the words again, I relived the emotions.

The blog shifted in May or June of that year when I joined Edge's 100 Bloggers. I went from a private space into a more public venue which pushed me to be more mindful of how I wrote. Now being anonymous, as I shared a few days ago, I could still engage in more intimate thoughts online.

Since then, I'm anonymous to some and not to many.

With clear, new changes outside, leading to new growth and shifting within, the words inside are building and I haven't been sure what to do about it other than write muddied entries. In the past, I would have just written them in a paper journal, or even a word doc for my private journal folder on my computer. But that no longer feels good. And this shift is unsettling. Through disciplined, constant blogging, have I become such an exhibitionist that certain things feel they need to be thrown out in the ether for some type of validation or satisfaction of being heard?

I still keep a private journal for those rare times where absolute horror, pain and trash need to be exorcised. Most times those entries don't consist of coherent sentences.

But now...

It's a distressing and curious development. Distressing because I'm not sure what it's all about and I wonder how the world of blogging has changed what I keep close and what I don't. I wonder if, just like tabloids and reality tv, I've been sucked into a seductive world of grabbing my 15 minutes of fame every time I open the "new entry" window to type.

I don't think it matters if I'm posting intimate details or if it were silly quizzes. It's still about being seen, isn't it?

Has life become so crazed, chaotic and quick that in blogging, my world can stand still for just a little bit? I can publicly document that on a specific date and time, I existed.

Ultimately, how healthy is it?

Do we get so caught up in the lives of others and in publicly sharing our own that we forget how to really live in the moment of what is in front of us, away from the computer screen?

How often when we walk in the door do we head to the computer to see what's new, who has commented or emailed?

I don't believe it's all bad. Through blogging, I found a way to use my voice and feel what it's like to be seen and heard. It was a new experience for me. It assists with healing the wounds caused from growing up invisible. In addition, my heart is full of family that I've gotten to know through blogging and then spending time together.

Through blogging, information is more easily shared.

Everything has a positive side. It's about balance, isn't it?

Maybe it's simply a matter of asking the questions and checking myself.

And in the meantime, I'll work on figuring out how to unlock the words that want to push their way out.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

Because I'm still regrouping from a very intense few weeks and I'm also basking in the continued growth of an amazing connection, there are no words tonight.

Instead, here are a few photos from Cafe Septieme.

Friday, February 09, 2007

After looking at a bunch of art last weekend while in NYC, a new thought came to me about my own work. It was a moment of stepping over a threshold into a new way of seeing. I began to share my insight with N and then hesitated, knowing that once the words came out of my mouth, I was claiming something powerful.

Haltingly, I said that all the reasons I'd used in the past to not show my work were excuses.

I've done enough work with my buddhist shrink to know that at the time, those excuses were legitimate reasons but in the moment of my declaration, they no longer served me.

I'm not a great artist. I'm inconsistent with my practice. I see where my fear comes up and I still have yet to push through it. Once in a while I can do something that feels like a good piece. My latest batch of work is filled with pain, longing and much confusion. And within the pile are a handful of pieces that are worthy of showing.

While flipping through all my little paintings last weekend, the emotions I experienced when working on them would rise to the surface. I felt so exposed. My cunt was turned inside out. It was difficult enough showing them to another but I know that it is time to reveal myself more to a greater audience.

I'm not afraid of rejection in the sense of having galleries refuse to hang my work. Everyone seeks something different.
The fear I face is when the work is hanging...

Do I have the courage to allow myself to be really seen?

The next couple weeks need to be focused on another personal matter. Once I get through that, I must find the strength to go through all the work again, make hard choices, pull out a few to frame and find a place that would hang the work.

It is time.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

...sometimes the simple things like a phone call and one small piece of chocolate are all that's needed to turn a gruesome workday around.

As you can see, I haven't unpacked yet. My bag is still where I dropped it Monday night when I came back. There have been very full work days including a full upgrade of the donor software we use, normally always an intense proposition that involves a server and 10 workstations, that took all afternoon on Wednesday. Throw in 3 meetings in two days (including one which was a strategic planning meeting). Somehow I'd manage to drag myself home...and crash.

Unpacking and laundry will be taken care of by Saturday.

I think I'm ready to begin working on the drawing/painting again. But not sure. And I must deal with the artwork that needs to be shipped and the three other pieces to complete.

I've been thinking quite a bit about the blog lately. So much is happening in my life, mostly very wonderful, and because I'm no longer as anonymous as I was even a few years back, I feel I can't write.

Although I've never revealed everything here, I'd be forthright about many things. Now, I find myself consumed...and can't seem to find a way to get the words out. It doesn't feel appropriate.

Maybe I need to think differently about the blog. Maybe this journal is going through some type of evolution. I am not ready to give up on it but not quite sure where it is headed.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

This is my life.

The brightest of spots juxtaposed next to the darkest. My shrink told me a few months ago that there are certain relationships which allow each to touch the primitive in themselves. It's a safe place.

The primitive is one of chaos and dark. And yet, in sharing it with another, it is no longer as terrifying as stumbling through it alone.

I am blessed.
And full.

Here is this week's Freewill Astrology.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

I arrived in Seattle late because we waited a half hour in line just for take off.
Much fog upon landing. I had no idea we were over Seattle until the wheels hit the runway. Very warm and humid. Definitely not the 10 degrees of NYC.

Very tired this morning but it needs to be a full day. This afternoon I'm doing some consulting with someone from another organization who needs advice on the donor software that we use.

The flight wasn't even half full. I had a full row to myself and so I didn't read. Instead I stretched out across all three seats and slept on and off. It made for a good flight.

Walking into work I saw that someone created lifesize photo heads of each of the staff. Mine was handed to me a little while ago. It made me smile. Such a silly crew here.

Not much else to say right now because I'm slowly slipping into work mode and what needs to be done this week.

To all I spent time with in NYC...thank you. It was a definite pleasure.

It feels strange being back in Seattle. My mind isn't here.

Monday, February 05, 2007

I'm at JFK waiting for my flight back to Seattle.

It's been an intense 10 days. Each trip to NYC hits a new level. Connections grow deeper.
It touches every aspect of my life.

This time the dread of leaving hit me two days before my flight. I struggled on Saturday and then again on Sunday.

Just like the other night, there are so many words inside and yet...not sure how to share it.


Yesterday N and I went to an open studio of a friend of his. It was great seeing more art. Very enjoyable work. From there, I experienced another treat in the form of a few exhibits at the Morgan Library and Museum. There was an exhibit of Victorian illustrations and printing. In addition, a nourishing exhibit of European drawings and the icing on the cake, a Saul Steinberg exhibit which left me blown away and humbled. (The link to the Morgan Museum links to the shows we saw.)

This week is a full week at work. And next week I face a large personal challenge. It's gonna be an interesting few weeks.

Reading for the flight is a book that Matt loaned me, Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic by Alison Bechdel.

I just overheard two guys talking, saying that the flight is fairly empty. Lets hope so. In the last year, all my flights have been jam packed. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll get a whole row to myself which means I can stretch and breathe. It doesn't hurt to dream, right?

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Many words inside...none for outside.

Saturday, February 03, 2007

Yesterday was a good and full day, walking all over the place. Checked out some galleries in Chelsea with Nayland and then we met a group of folks for great Indian food at Haveli.

Today was another very good and full day because N was celebrating his birthday early with an open house. It was a day of prepping for the party and then enjoying a houseful of really groovy people.

N had placed a sketchbook and a box of pencils on his drawing table. There was one rule: every guest needed to sit down at the "guest book" and do a self portrait. It was a brilliant idea.

Here is one of the guests taking his responsibility seriously~

And here is the birthday guy~

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Back in NYC.

It feels like an oasis after the last few days....including the view of welding man at a construction site in midtown.

I'm not going to write anymore about my family visit except to say the following:

Considering the last few months where old goop and sludge has been coming to the surface, and the intensely fragile and vulnerable place I've found myself in because of it, this was the most difficult and painful visit with my parents I've ever had. I expended much energy between juggling my pain while trying to be there for them. By this morning, before heading for the bus, I was physically ill. Depleted.

There were a couple opportunities to visit the old house in the last few days, including on the way to the bus terminal this morning. Each time, I came up with a reason to pass. After my final chance, I realized what I was doing. Although I thought I wanted to see the old house empty and clear before next week's closing, I couldn't do it. I just couldn't go in there.

I apologized to my parents and told them that something inside me didn't want to go.

That's that. There is much to process and I'm sure it'll filter thru in its own time.

I've had a little bit of time to be quiet, here in Brooklyn. It's perfect. It gives me a chance to regroup before dinner which I'm looking forward to.