The dry streambed that once contained a branch of the Fountain of Youth

It's been a week.
If you want to slow time down a bit,
Try smoking, if you don't already.
And then quit.
It works.

New

I have new things.
Here are a few.
In November Dilaram and I got married.
I quit smoking, this is only my fourth day, but it feels like an eternity. I'm determined this time, and yet I still feel like I could relapse at any moment.
We will be going to Hawaii in less than a month. I don't even own a swim suit, but I am advised if I want to see dolphins and sea turtles I need one.
Oh yeah, I also plunged into this new year with good intentions like doing yoga a lot and being healthy. So far I'm off to a good start.
I think it's a vast improvement over how 2007 started off.

Offensive Carcass

I was just reading a local blog that was discussing a petition for Anti-smoking legislation for any public space, what it really targets is places like food establishments and bars.
Having just returned from a trip that required air travel, to a city that already has and indoor smoking ban through out, I have to say a few things.
Firstly, I have no problem with stepping outside to smoke. I get that people don't like a lot of things that their fellow humans do, and don't want to be subjected to what they don't like. I'm not at all going to try to force someone to smoke with me, against their will. I try to be respectful, I don't stand right in front of the exit where they have to walk through a cloud of smoke. I don't blow it at people as they walk by. I don't even throw my butts at people who give me dirty looks and just generally look annoying.
Talk about anti-smoking anything always raises a few questions - such as - car exhaust, pollution, obesity. All these other things that cause more health problems than second-hand smoke. I've heard just about everything.
One thing I haven't heard, but think ALL THE TIME, is about the offensiveness of the carcass eaters food choices. I hate going to into a restaurant and being immediately attacked by the odor of carcass being baked, fried, sliced, diced, sauteed, boiled and chewed. Should I start trying to get laws passed about the unfairness of this? Why should I be subjected to having my pores being saturated with carcass greases and reminded of what all the carcass eaters will being carrying around in their colons for the next week?
The very idea that I would try to do such a thing would be very unpopular with most people - as most people in this country (and elsewhere) are partakers of animal flesh. I know that it wouldn't get very far and I'd be considered insane and silly.
And so, I just don't frequent places that are overtly focused on carcass-chomping. It's that simple. I don't have to attend Renaissance Festivals where people walk around chewing on turkey limbs, and I don't have to eat a wilted salad at a sizzling-cow buffet. Get over it, you always have the choice to just stay at home, at least then you wouldn't be polluting the air with your car exhaust.

Un-mother

It can come out of nowhere. You might be sitting alone as night is
falling around you and it will rush into your head like a freight train
that has no manners. Sometimes it is a creeping thing that slowly
insinuates itself into your conscious thoughts.
The memories of hurtful words, biting and cutting at your confidence and resolve.
The things that people say to each other, out of anger, jealousy, self-hatred that is misdirected.
I
don't know why, out of all the things that someone might say to me,
that I would remember such things. These words, though, they scarred
me. They touched me more than any of the beautiful poems, the loving
embraces and longing gazes sent my direction. I can't even remember the
goodness -and I'm sure there must have been- because of one very short,
but very cutting remark.
I look at this comment from different
angles, trying to grasp a different feeling from it, but it still hurts
just like the first time you said it.Every time my memory replays it, it becomes more sinister.
Why does anyone carry such sadness with them? Why do I think I've let it go, only to find it lingering?
Surely
I've said things like this, to people I've loved. Something that they
carry through all their experiences, such a horrible way to remember
pieces of me that I've shared with them. Knowing this, that I too have
also caused this kind of pain, doesn't make me feel better, nor do I find it justifiable. But it makes it somehow more bearable in the sense that I can let go of my hatred of ones who have hurt me. For I also, have been a murderer of love.

Take the only tree that's left, and stuff it up the hole in your culture

Quite contrary.
I've a baby-blog that will hopefully be documenting the progress on our community garden. In my links, it is Seeds of change, or garden link
I don't know how much I have in me to write here at the moment, but out of necessity I will be making entries on the other blog, which may seem very focused and perhaps even boring or localized. I guess that's what the midwest has given me.

Yogahurt

I started doing yoga on Sunday.
I'm so silly to not be active. I always feel 1000 times better.
I never really got yoga before, it was just like stretching before a ballet class for me.
It's different now.
This is an explanation for the dissipation of all the grim words I've conveyed lately.
I won't get all spiritual on here, at least that isn't where I see myself headed.
Just different, and that is good.
Perhaps I won't die of cancer or ennui after all.

overwhelmed

Some days are harder than others to see the good in humans. I'm still an idealist, I do think we could live in a world someday that has no need for guns or violence or hatred. It might not be this world, but I do believe one like that exists, or could. A lot of people just so readily accept what they are told to believe, without questioning the why behind it. I have never been one of those people, and I never will be.
Fear of death is not a justification for me. Justification for weapons, overblown military, walls to keep people in and out, names given to each other to define our differences, lies we tell our children to scare them - not even thinking of the imprint we leave.
The most lethal of all though, is the human mind, capable of such atrocities, that I cannot conceive of how we've survived this long.
It has to stop at some point. There must be a threshold to the pain and sadness, and when we reach it, surely we'll be able to see what we've done and will hopefully be able to mourn the loss of our own humanity.
You won't find me holding my breath.
My ideals remain in tact, and because of this, I still find hope. My words always belie such despair, but I am actually quite the opposite for the most part.

in the background

lurking
Originally uploaded by blackpetunia

I am lucky that my life has so much beauty in it.
Most of this beauty has nothing to do with other humans.
My partner was unsurprised when I told him that I don't like other people, mostly just plants and animals.
I guess I make it that obvious.
Somewhere in the midst of my existence, I think I'm growing and learning.
This is all I can hope for.

Shyly

It is hard to get by without a commentary:

This is not an innocent picture.

Time was stopped here,

its laws no longer consulted.

It was denied impact on the developing events,

disregarded and dishonored.

The questions abound

So,
If you were sitting in your house, relaxing, the hour is moving towards 10 pm and you happen to live in a "transitional" neighborhood, such as mine where you hear loud noises on a very consistent basis and on this particular night you hear some pretty nasty sounds coming out of nowhere, but near....what would you guess it to be?
Usually, it's gun shots, this time of year, perhaps fireworks, that's the fun part trying to distinguish between the two. Added to those noises you hear unsupervised children screaming and carrying on, fighting in the street and throwing shit around. There is also the regular drone every few hours of sirens and tires screeching.
You get used to just about anything, I suppose.
Which might explain why my partner and I sat there and kind of muttered "wtf" when we heard this scraping, screeching metallic noise last night. This sound was promptly followed by my neighbor yelling up to our back window that our car had just been hit.
I ran downstairs and found a very large Chevy van attached to the front of our Volvo. Our car had been parked in front of our house but was now close to 30 feet down the street. I recognized the van as the one belonging to one of our neighbors. Said neighbor was fleeing into his apartment as I came out. My other neighbors informed me that he was trying to park and hit our car, got stuck to it, dragged it down the street and then jumped out, grabbed his beer and ran home.
I called the cops and once they arrived we explained it and they went over to his apartment. He had escaped through back door! Drunk!
I don't really understand why he ran, everyone saw him, we know who he is. He had insurance, we think, we're still waiting to hear back from them.
We lament the fact that the car wasn't totalled, as far as we can tell. Now it's just more of a pain in the ass to deal with.
All I can say is that guy is fucking lucky that it wasn't my Mazda he hit. I would have displayed a lot more violence when I saw him fleeing.
I took pictures but they don't quite do justice to the distance that he drug the car.
And he hasn't even come over to apologize. I don't even get the closure, yet, of telling him what a dumb fuck he is.
Maybe I'll get some pictures up a little later.

And, and I know I bitch about my neighborhood a lot, and you're probably saying to yourself about now, "why the hell does she live there?"
That's a good question.


**Update**
That stupid, motherfucker, cocksucking rat bastard doesn't have current insurance. This is all going to come out of our pocket. I will make his life a living hell as long as he lives across the street from me. What bullshit, now I am really pissed off.

Stella Blues

Well, I did it. It's been coming, I fought it. I even posted it half-assed on Craigslist once, but deleted it.
I haven't rode the Stella in a year. It's sitting there, being wasted, I want to find someone who can physically enjoy it as much as I do in the asthetic and mental senses.Now it's for real though.
I am sad, but I know that we'll never ride off into the sunset together, the Stella and I.

In all things, you will find beauty

Some Velvet Garden

To quote one of my favourite songs:

Flowers are the things we knew
Secrets are the things we grew
Learn from us very much
Look at us but do not touch
Phaedra is my name (which I named my cat after)

Here are a few images from the garden. It's just starting to explode. I need to get some neighborhood garden pictures.

This year we took out all the grass in the front yard and I decided that on the front of one side I wanted to plant a butterfly/honeybee garden so we have a little field of flowers with the herbs and tomatoes behind and more flowers in the beds.








I did a lot more seeds this year and most of them have done really well so far. The wisteria was almost killed by the weird weather in April, but it's made a very excellent recovery.

Poppies, I don't have as many as last year, but what I do have seeded themselves.




You may recognize my beautiful assistant, Anya, who was also in last years pictures. In this one you can vaguely see the scar on her face. That's another story I haven't posted about as well. A later post, but briefly, we are back to one dog.

Rumi(nations)

Let this window be your ear.
I have lost consciousness many times
with longing for your listening silence,
and your life-quickening smile.

There is a way between voice and presence
where information flows.
In disciplined silence it opens.
With wandering talk it closes.

Don't ask me, what you know is true

I am defined by my words. Without them I am unraveled and nonsensical. To be colored inside the lines, my own lines, is very important to me, and right now, there are lines all over and they go nowhere and define nothing.
I want to send out a bottle with a very important message, but I'm not sure what it is, or if I do, then I'm somehow irrationally scared to actually say it.
Have no doubt, when I do, I'm sure that it will shake the reality of a few,
or,
perhaps not.
This is where I waver, between being something,
and being completely eclipsed by nothing.
And yet, the image still shimmers, and yet, I am still waiting for the feast, and yet, I have something to say.

For Cassie - I love this website

I can haz cheezburger!

The only Zulu warrior I'd go to a Luau for

Go Bjork your self

Leave your religion at the door - quotes

Nine-year-old boy to friends: Don't be talking smack about Jesus. He was one of our greatest presidents!


Hip chick in black whose dog poops in street: No! No! Jesus fucking Christ! [Looks up and notices she's in front of large church.] Oops.


(My Favorite)
High school boy: He's like a fat homeless Jesus who stole a rich man's coat.


Soccer mom to another: You know, Friday nights are always a great time for Jesus.


Student on phone: All I have to say about being friends with Jesus is that unlimited fish sandwiches and wine doesn't sound like a bad deal.


Crazy guy: Praise Jesus! But stay outta my way -- I will stab you.


Girl to friend: I mean, come on -- who really cares about Jesus?

11AM How about a Compromise? One Could Be a Priest

Young wife sighing: All I pray for is a gay son.
Husband: All our sons will be straight.
Young wife: Just the youngest one can be gay. I need one gay son. You won't even notice.
Husband: No, it won't happen. Costa Ricans don't have gay sons. And I want my name passed on.
Young wife: I'll wait until you go to work, then put makeup and heels on him and let him be himself. I need someone to talk to when you are gone.

The end of something, blizzards and the wrongness of my memory

I was saddened to see that we lost Mr. Vonnegut yesterday. As much as I tell you this loss has affected me, I must not be that great of a fan because I got him mixed up in my head with Tom Robbins (shame) and was thinking of how much I loved his book, "Still Life with Woodpecker".
Only after thinking about the great Outlaw bits did I realize that it wasn't even his book! I'm ashamed to be mixing my authors like an amateur drinker mixing their liquors.
It adds up to many things being just a tad off today, beginning with me running around the neighborhood at 5:30 am searching for my escaped dog. I am supposed to leave for Colorado tomorrow morning, probably right around the time this possible blizzard is supposed to be at it's height. Damn, I'm torn if I should wait. I don't want to, dare I risk it?
I will leave you with this thought from Kurt, himself:

Hopefully my trip will be at the top of this chart, as much as I love Kafka, I don't want to be in a story with falling pianos and endless waits at gates that never open.