Monthly Archives: March 2011

Things I Love

In the process of reading Ensouling Language: On the Art of Nonfiction and the Writer’s Life by Stephen Harrod Buhner, I feel emboldened to play with language. How can you not when Buhner issues this challenge:

“I believe in writing that burns the blood, in which you feel forest wolves tensing behind you, writing filled with wilderness, writing that forces the margins, writing that challenges, that insists, that bleeds when it’s cut, writing that uplifts the best in us and defies the worst, writing that’s not afraid to breathe the same air as evil, writing that unashamedly believes in the good, that is undefended, writing that has death in it, writing with the same power that fills ancients redwoods, writing filled with darkness, writing with untamed wildness flowing through it, writing carrying an eagle’s call, floating in the high cold winds of a mountain pass, writing that is not civilized, not contained, not channeled in irrigation ditches of tired grammatical form and civilized demeanor, writing that grabs readers by the neck and shakes them, writing that stirs the deepest parts of the soul, that allows the mythic to flow again into consciousness, writing that undoes, that unmakes, that touches on chaos, writing in which the old gods live, writing that touches on the deepest parts of the human and finds no definite line between us and other life forms on this planet, writing that surges, strains, demands, forces, rages, writiing in language as liquid and mercurial as life itself, writing that is nonlinear, filled with luminosity, deep psyche, writing that DOES NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP. And certainly writing that does not fail to use the word fuck when it is called for, and it will always be called for. Eventually.”

Thoughout he provides exercises for writers, including listing out all the things you love and all the things you hate. Just freeform, let it go, and write it out without concern for the judgement by self or others.

Things I Love

  • Being held energetically in Becoming’s circle of connection
  • Weekend trips with my husband
  • Acting silly and getting a laugh
  • Roman baths and spa days
  • Well-blended, spicy salsa
  • PG Tips with sugar and milk with tea biscuits
  • A turn of phrase that sweeps your heart away
  • Deep rich reds
  • Sleeping curled up with my husband
  • Snuggling with my kittehs
  • Praise for a job well done
  • The feeling of satisfaction when I find the answer to some obscure answer
  • Warm spring days with a soft breeze
  • Fountains
  • Rough, hot, sweaty sex
  • That little bit of shade on a sunny day
  • Wandering freely along an avenue filled with brightly colored shops or through the woods
  • Saying the words “monkey” and “pony”
  • Flirty bartenders
  • Rituals that take you out of your rational mind and transport you a timeless place
  • Gathering around the fire with good friends with drums and viryta
  • Birthday cake
  • Enjoying a glass of wine and a good book on the front porch
  • Holding a sleeping baby
  • Riding around with my mother in the golf cart while we bare our souls to each other
  • Watching the rain without getting wet
  • The first pink blossoms of spring
  • Making jewelry
  • Kronos Quartet Performs Philip Glass – the whole CD
  • Cheesy vampire movies
  • Dinner with friends
  • Doing magic
  • A quick wit with an absurd sense of humor
  • Inspiring others to do/be more than they originally thought they could
  • Mastering a new artistic/crafty technique
  • Saying the word “fuck”

p.s. The book link above takes you to Amazon.com. If you buy the book through this link, I get a small percentage. FYI.

A Moment of No Obligations

Umbrella Day

Last night I was in a fury.
I woke up at 2:17am
And could not go back to sleep.
I was still angry
From earlier in the evening
When my take-out meal
Which was supposed to save me time
Made me late
For a meeting
I didn’t really want to go to
In the first place.

Fuming in the darkness
Because my husband’s hand
Was touching mine
Seeking contact,
Because his shoulder
Was crowding mine
Seeking space,
Because the dog
Was snuggled between my legs
Seeking warmth,
And the kitten
Lay on my chest
Seeking comfort.

Just get the fuck off of me!
Just everybody STOP
TOUCHING ME!
Stop needing things from me!

This morning I was in a rage.
I had not slept well.
I had an ice pick
Lodged in my skull
And a vice
Clamped on my shoulder.
Oh, and it was raining.

At the front door to my office
Stood a wet young man
Looking up at the sky
In sorrow.
I guess that my notice of him
Invited a response.
“I’ve been inside all week
In a conference
Looking out at the sun,
And the one day I have to
Explore the city
It rains,” he said
With a foreign accent
And one of those grimaces
That says I-am-not-all-that-upset.
“Do you have an umbrella?”
I asked.
He shook his head
And so I handed him mine.
“Really? Thank you!” he said
In wonderment and joy.

As I walked through the door
And past the security guard,
I felt tears on my face
Of release and relief.
Now, I’m just tired
but feel a little freer.

Photo: Umbrella Day by Gregory Bastien, on Flickr