caltrain

the only thing that pierces the haze of conversation and greasy glass windows is the light of the moon. ever constant.

preteens to the right, hot pink purse carelessly strewn on the gray carpet
middle aged minimum wage worker behind, talking listlessly
"my parents raised me better"

children sleeping, angry birds screeching
the glow of laptops for the always working

pass the stop at millbrae, no transfer for SFO
keep heading rail-straight
to Silicon Valley IPOs

Off at hotel California where the bus awaits
the evolving Palo Alto landscape - home -
drawn out on your calculating face

ｓｔａｒｔ ｎｏｗ

to find inspiration at 25, when up to this point it seems like nothing had shaken me with such force before, is something i never thought could happen. but all of a sudden, i feel like i have two forces in my life that motivate me to change and move me to action.

1. a boyfriend i was never expecting, who shows me at once how far i've come and how much i still have to grow.

2. art, literature and theater - driving forces in my life that seem to be coming more and more into focus after my somewhat confused time in high school and college. what thoughts were bits and pieces in my head while i developed photos in the darkroom, read shakespeare, watched double suicide, or listened to professor marra lecture are all starting to take solid form. today, discovering lee miller and man ray's relentless love for her at the legion of honor just seemed to bring everything together.

my somewhat newly discovered drive and the reasons behind it are something i'm hesitant to declare, since making the declaration puts me on the line for failure. it makes the feelings and thoughts i have for him so much more real, since i have no doubt that what i feel when i'm with him is exactly why the love man ray had for lee miller touched me so much. i want to love that way, and i want to be loved that way. i want to be the creative, beautiful, courageous heroine in my own life.

and i think for the first time in 25 years, i'm not afraid to really try.

M. Lights

the smoke flowing from my lips is the same color as the light-tinged clouds.
my body is weightless
my hair singed by fire

basho

when did i stop contemplating the world i live in, and start to only focus on myself?

i think it's when i stopped reading poetry. somehow, a verse on a speck of dust seems to bring everything back into perspective.

the space in back of you

i feel particularly heartbroken today. battered by the wind, the hours spent awake.

then suzushi hanayagi allowed me to cry. her wrinkled hands
dancing in my mind.

Robert Wilson's homage, KOOL, to his teacher and friend, suzushi hanayagi, was performed two years ago. Tonight, I saw a documentary, the space in back of you, which was directed by him. The documentary narrates her dance life, and contains interviews of the people who love her and have worked with her.

You can read a review of KOOL here, although this is the image I thought of when I wrote the three lines above.

Even in the footage shown of her dancing, you can't help but feel impacted by the intensity and purity of each of her movements. That intensity pushes you to feel, to be confused and to wonder.

Mind the space in back of you.

i hate when you're right

salted cashews in ice cream soup taste worse than tears.

Palace of the Legion of Honor

I stood beneath the thinker,
watching as the clouds passed overhead
his body shrouded in muscles,
skin that turns darker with age.