still thinking... but back

gone thinking

nothing is separate any more

I am thinking of the avocado eggrolls I ate last night. It feels miraculous to me that I have money, can order what I wish.

I keep working on how to stage Genghis Khan's life. Mountain horses, bows & arrows, fratricide, 5 horses per rider, catapults, spirituality, Nature, the Eternal Blue Sky, groups, battles, peace, wind. Start with the horses, whispers my unconscious. Get to the deaths.

I have slid sideways from Tibet to China, without leaving the high plateaus.

Nothing is separate any more. I judge myself as a theatre artist by how I do in my games job, by how clean my house is. "Is this spiritual play?" I ask at work. Today I could feel, with 17 men and 2 women in the room, our utter power.

Yesterday my mirror broke. Graceful, heavy, a relic from the 40's. It fell over. Bright slivers everywhere. So beautiful.

I am afraid to commit everywhere. To be intimate. Awake. There is no alternative.

i am so glad and very

i am so glad and very
merely my fourth will cure
the laziest self of weary
the hugest sea of shore

so far your nearness reaches
a lucky fifth of you
turns people into eachs
and cowards into grow

our can'ts were born to happen
our mosts have died in more
our twentieth will open
wide a wide open door

we are so both and oneful
night cannot be so sky
sky cannot be so sunful
i am through you so i

-- ee cummings

yes I said yes I will Yes

the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said I was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

--James Joyce, Ulysses

the season of cherries, the season of watermelon

I am looking at the Empress. For the first time since Bergamo, I am deep enough to write.

In Brother Sun, Sister Moon the man stands up in church, takes off his clothes, and walks naked out the doors and into the forest. Saint Francis. It could as well have been the Buddha.

I too am shedding.

I have callouses on my knees from directing. Callouses in the center of each palm.

Today I danced to Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This.

My legs feel long all the time. I ache with the distance between my thighs. I feel wild in the Microsoft halls, and I like my belly showing.

It is time to make something.

"It is the season of cherries, the season of watermelon," said Radmila. "You should meet the chef who did our wedding. Every time you say Eugenio, I think of this man. Chocolate-hazelnut cake with fresh roses from his garden on it."

When seeking the truth
sunder all masks -- shriek only
to god his bright Name

By the floor you shall
know it, and in your long thighs --
the way home is rough

"I do not climb the
mountain," says Eugenio; "I
fall back into it"

you cannot know and
not-know -- go dumb and eat the
data, let it kill you

iron is found in
rocks dropped from the stars, scorched
by ravaging air

you are still not who
you are becoming -- you must
be willing to die