ghosts

"who wants to see life as it is? it's the three gorgons in one. you look in their faces and turn to stone. or it's pan. you see him and you die--that is, inside you--and have to go on living as a ghost."

long day's journey into night ~ eugene o'neill

to hear you breathe by my side

all you want ~ dido

"oh, if you'd come home ,
i'll let you know that all you want,
is right here in this room.
all you want,
and all you need,
is sitting here with you .
all you want."

this song just came on randomly, and i had yet another of those moments where i am reminded of an artist that i love, but often forget about. dido has one of those voices that sneaks up on you, sticks under the skin, and lingers for days. her songs, often disguised as love songs, are typically deeper than that. lyrically, the more you listen, and the deeper you dig, there are undercurrents of bitterness, betrayal, lost hope, regret, and loss. yet, interspersed - or perhaps the connection between it all - is love. loving regardless, loving despite disappointment, loving even though you have had to let go, and loving in some kind of realm of obsession.

suppose much of it is a glimpse into the darker shadows of our hearts. something that is often deeply relatable, even if we are tempted to shade our eyes from that level of self-examination. i've been trudging around in that kind of muck lately, though, as part of my so-called self-analysis (i.e. trying to sort out what has me so blue). some of what i'm finding reveals an often imbalanced expectation for hope and happiness, and the realization of the day-to-day, and of my own mistakes and mis-steps in love. as a child, i tended to expect the worst, to look at things with disappointed eyes. i know that has a lot to do with the life i led, with my examples of love, with the way i perceived things to be.

and yet, somehow i found myself in my thirties with this almost childish optimism. somehow hope found its meandering way to my door, at the least opportune time, when i really should be basking in the dark shadows of bitterness and disappointment. instead i found myself driven to realizing some ideal of bliss that i had constructed in my head. something to aspire to, as we all should try for the most happy we can wrap our arms around, but at the same time it has limited my enjoyment of right here, right now. it is all still cloudy, and full of mud, as i work my way through it, but something in it brings to light (so to speak) that we need to learn to play about in the shadows, in order to find what we have, what we want, and the precarious bridge that sways in-between.

and somehow this song illustrates a little part of that, or if nothing else, has set me out on a train-of-thought ramble. typical me, finding something in each and every lyrical refrain.

as we pass over on the arc of time

arc of time (time code) ~ bright eyes

"so you nurse your love,
like a wounded dove,
in the covered cage of night.
every star is crossed,
by frenetic thoughts,
that separate and then collide.
and they twist like sheets,
till you fall asleep,
and they finally unwind.
it's a black balloon,
it's a dream you'll soon deny."

trying for some hope tonight, in things, in life, in my own beliefs and desires. it is hard not to feel an overwhelming sense of one step forward and sixteen steps back lately, especially when you are struggling with a lingering depression that nothing seems to shake. so, part of me disappears, and part of me recoils. i try not to build up the predictable walls i've always been so good at constructing. instead, i seek solace in music, and in silence (unusual for me), and in giving myself the time i need to sort my soul out.

i was remembering this afternoon a friend i once was close with, and this technique she used when dealing with dark times and her own struggles. she would try to list at least five things she was thankful for, or things that made her happy. i borrowed it, well more than "borrowed", i shaped it into something i've used on occasion - and into something i've suggested to others to try. to list the things that you are thankful for, things that make you happy, or help you breathe, and also to make a bit of a wish list of things you want to do. looking too far forward can bring on the overwhelm, but sometimes having a few twinkling plans is a good thing.

strange that this song brings out this in me, though conor has always connected to me, lyrically speaking. sometimes hope comes in oddly shaped packages, or in the twist and turn of an unexpected song. so, i sit here and write a small list, and struggle over some of it, while other bits and bobs come pouring out.

five thankfuls:
* my children
* music that makes me feel
* lasting friendship
* bathtubs
* coffee

five wishes:
* vacation (someday)
* healing (for others and my own)
* that i can find the balloon pump for veronica's birthday for balloon animals (hey, wishes do not have to be enormous)
* that my writer's block will end
* the ocean (soon)

oh how fast those moments flee

"once we watched a lazy world go by,
now the days seem to fly.
life is brief,
but when it's gone;
love goes on and on."

my preferred robin and marian.

there's no simple explanation

"watch the band
through a bunch of dancers
quickly, follow the unknown
with something
more familiar
quickly
something familiar

courage,
my word,
didn't come, it doesn't matter

sleepwalk
so fast asleep in a motel
has the lay of home
and piss on
all of your background
and piss on
all your surroundings

courage
my word
didn't come, it doesn't matter
courage
your word
didn't come, it doesn't matter
oh courage
my word
didn't come, it doesn't matter
courage
it couldn't come at a worse time

so, there's no simple explanation
for anything important
any of us do

and yeah
the human tragedy
consists in
the necessity of living with
the consequences
under pressure
under pressure

courage
my word
didn't come, it doesn't matter
courage
your word
didn't come, it doesn't matter
oh courage
my word
didn't come, it doesn't matter
courage
it couldn't come at a worse time"

random video landed in my inbox and brought tears. suppose i never thought of what the future would lead to for a robin and a marian. a favorite story of mine as a child, quite possibly my most favorite (that and hans christian anderson's the little matchgirl).

it is interesting how as a child you do not question beyond happy ever after's and true love. you expet the heroes to win, even if they are anti-heroes as robin hood is/was. you find yourself believing even when you carry the insecurity/self-deprecating spirit that this society seems to encourage.

i think i need to let go of some of my childhood, even though i thought i'd thrown off and gotten over so damn much of it. and, i think i need to sort out how to be my own hero/anti-hero(ine). with loss there are new doors to discover. when i can pull myself up and out of this sadness i hope to throw them all open.

beauty in the breakdown

the thing is...
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
when grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, how can a body withstand this?

then you hold life like a face

between your palms, a plain face,

no charming smile, no violet eyes,

and you say, yes, i will take you

i will love you, again.

by ellen bass

life and i have been having an arguement lately, the kind that have no sense or reason to them, fights that become their own entity and take over. i found myself in tears again this morning, the messy kind, with breathing compromised, things leaking out of nose and eyes, shaking and the familiar and unwelcome feeling of anxiety pounding inside my chest. but, breakdowns are messy, they are, and i know full well that this is what i am going through. i have no illusions that it is anything else. my emotions are overwhelming, as is this feeling of wanting to disappear. i feel misunderstood, even to myself, my own choice of words seem to betray what i want to say.

and yet, i can see outside the window right now at a beautiful day; warm sun, cool breeze. yesterday afternoon walking through one of my favorite spots in hollywood, right by capital records, and the music box, memories that all the connecting streets are full of. my mom let go of some of her angst and bitterness for a bit of time, and we laughed at what some of the buildings meant to us. julia piped in and said something about loving the way that los angeles was a mix of beauty and decay, and i thought how much of that is how i love life, as well - when i can remember that i do love it.

life and i have some making up to do, though i do not know how long it will take. i know that i am hurting, and that i am trying not to go numb. i need to feel all of this, and not worry that i am disappointing everyone by falling, and i need to remember that it is the beauty and the decay, the lovely and the ugly, that i have always loved in this life, and in the people i hold dear - and somehow let myself into that, too. i just wish i felt stronger, and not so alone.

somewhere no one is expecting

cleanse song ~ bright eyes

"don't forget what you've learned all you give is returned,
and if life seems absurd what you need is some laughter.
and a season to sleep,
and a place to get clean,
maybe los angeles, somewhere no one is expecting.

on a detox loft through a glendale park,
over sidewalk chalk,
someone wrote in red,
"start over".

so i muffled my scream on an oxnard beach,
full of fever dreams that scare you sober,
into saltless dinners."

i think i may be dealing with a bout of depression that i am having a very rough time shaking. there are good things happening in my life and yet i feel very weighed down by sadness. i have yet to make it through a day without crying multiple times. i think i need a "start over". i think i need somewhere unexpected (though not los angeles). i think i need to sort out what is wrong with me.

welcome june

breck road lover ~ the libertines

"we walk the streets where she gets her name."

* max turned four this weekend and today we celebrated it at the park. i played in the sand with toys kate brought as part of his gift, and was later gifted myself with flower necklaces and crowns she made that brought back a lovely memory. unfortunately, my pale skin did not take to all that sitting in the sun too well and i am badly burned, and a bit sick feeling from it. but, max had a blast. watching him with multi-colors of frosting on his face, laughing so hard that he nearly fell over, playing with his new trains, and running around with a real sense of glee on his face made me immeasurably happy. my best friend, family and all of our children, so much bliss that brings to me. all in all, it was a beautiful afternoon.

* it is after ten at night and i want a cup of coffee desperately. yeah. sunday night and a desire like that? we all have our self-destructive tendencies, i suppose. tonight i will not partake in it, though, as i have enough struggles lately sleeping at all.

* i hate when i realize that even though i'm almost 40 years old, and have a pretty decent amount of accomplishments i'm proud of, i still end up feeling not good enough so much of the time. i wish i knew a way to believe in myself more, and to hang on to the good things said instead of internalizing so much of the criticisms and negative words. suppose this goes back to something i was musing on a few days ago, at why it is so hard to just be nice, to say kind words, to not cut each other (and ourselves) down so much. is it because we all are walking around this world feeling less than, too? so, we lash out at each other, or at ourselves, just to either feel better, or not so alone in that level of insecurity? i don't know. maybe this comes from spending a significant part of my day with my mother who seems to have mastered the art of criticism, so much so that my brother and i have learned to be self-deprecating and mocking to such a degree we have a hard time speaking aloud genuinely good feelings. or perhaps it is just that i allow myself to take that kind of thing, over and over again. either way, i would honestly rather be nice, and treated that way, too. love how you want to be loved.

* i was listening to one of the alphabet mixes i used to make this morning while cleaning the kitchen. i miss making those, as well as recently missing the music theme posts i used to write. who knows, maybe one of these days they will make a comeback.

* a trip to the temporary library took place yesterday (our main one is being rebuilt). max is starting to take an interest in books, inspired by his starting school, i believe. he is the first child i've ever had who did not embrace reading from the start, so it was especially happy-making for me to see him getting excited about books. he chose three thomas the train books, his current obsession, and even had the children's librarian helping him locate them. reading them with him last night, and learning morea about the thomas plot and back stories, i am realizing that the island of sodor is quite the land of drama. seriously, those trains just look harmless with their google-eyes and smiles, they are really a intricate web of intrigue, rivalry, and struggles. who knew.

* tomorrow is monday, i am so not ready for that reality yet. maybe that is why i want the coffee.

to be with you again

superstar ~ sonic youth

"long ago,
and oh so far away,
i fell in love with you,
before the second show.

your guitar,
it sounds so sweet and clear,
but you're not really there,
it's just the radio."

the original of this song, by the carpenters, lives in my own childhood history alongside roberta flack's killing me softly. something about the pair of them, and a pre-adolescent girl's fancy for musicians and far off places (her wandering gypsy nature captured in a song, and soulful eyes). suppose i had a grasp on the sadness of love, the loneliness when much of your heart is tied up in songs, and yet there is something lasting - far beyond promises, lies, trysts in the backseats of cars, first kisses, make ups and break ups. the songs still play, they hold on longer, they do not forget the initial blushes and dreams. they do not warm you in the cold hours of the middle of the night, but there is something they bring, something to count on, something to trust.

the same old fears

"so, so you think you can tell,
heaven from hell?
blue skies from pain?
can you tell a green field,
from a cold steel rail?
a smile from a veil?
do you think you can tell?

and, did they get you to trade
your heroes for ghosts?
hot ashes for trees?
hot air for a cool breeze?
cold comfort for change?
and did you exchange a walk on part in the war
for a lead role in a cage?

how i wish,
how i wish you were here.
we're just two lost souls,
swimming in a fish bowl,
year after year.
running over the same ground,
what have we found?
the same old fears.

wish you were here."

wring my heart & break it, as i'd rather be alive

“to love at all is to be vulnerable. love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. if you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. it will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

c.s. lewis

there's a pull to the flow

blindsided (video) ~ bon iver

"peek in...

into the peer in;

i'm not really like this...

i'm probably plightless,

i cup the window.

i'm crippled and slow,

for the agony

i'd rather know.

'cause blinded,

i am blindsided.

would you really rush out for me now?"

wearing pigtails and a pinned on grasp at hope. somedays i feel as if the puzzle pieces of life are fitting into place, as if i could squint my eyes and lean a little in one direction (or the other) and suss out where the paths lead. but then i end up in that spin of self-doubt, second guessing is a dire thing sometimes, and tends to upend any "following your bliss". my eyes are half-blindfolded, and half stuck in a dream - perhaps sleeping, for once, would help clear up the haze. or maybe, just maybe, this is really what seeing myself feels like.

today's scrawled wish: to sit by the water, not particular to the location (though i have a few in mind), and learn to be comfortale in shared silence.

for the later parade

"once i wanted to be the greatest,
no wind or waterfall could stall me,
and then came the rush of the flood,
the stars at night turned deep to dust.

melt me down,
into big black armour;
leave no trace,
of grace,
just in your honor."

and it came fast, a sudden shock, as if a winter cold had passed deep within my bones. and i knew before a phone rang, or anything was spoken, or explained. all of it, every moment, was the scariest and yet the most impactful of feelings. words do not suffice, and i will never be the same. thank you.

but you are another mystery i am missing

half life ~ duncan sheik

& the video

"before the truth goes back into hiding,

i want to decide 'cause it's worth deciding,

to work on finding something more than this fear."

i've probably posted this song before, in fact i'm almost certain i have. i know this song has meant varying things to me at different times in my life, and that there are times when my heart takes in messages from everything i hear, speak, experience, and breathe in. suppose that is the core reason for my obsession with music, with art, and with the mystery of expression. i am forever moved by the human condition. we all tuck so many truths into the things we feel, write, sing, and dream.

i've had a moment with this song this morning, and it means enough for me to tack it up and say yes, thank you, i think i'm starting to understand me a little bit more.

i don't know how to see the same things different now

insignificant ~ counting crows

insignificant (video, recording studio)

"diving through the dark,

while the night turns blue.

are you aware of your intentions?

because i wear my intentions so clear.

if you see me wading through water,

come drown in the river right in front of the world.

you can wash your face and hands in the stream of my anger.

it's as bright as white paper

and as dark as a girl.

i don't want to feel so different,

but i don't want to be insignificant,

and i don't know how to see the same things different now."

ballerinas that have fins that you'll never find

spark ~ tori amos (the video)

& live on jools holland

"she's convinced she could hold back a glacier,

but she couldn't keep baby alive;

doubting if there's a woman in there somewhere,

here

you say you don't want it,

again and again,

but you don't really mean it.

you say you don't want it,

this circus we're in,

but you don't you don't really mean it;

you don't really mean it."

someone i'm close to called me today and told me that she had a miscarriage last night, and as she told me about what happened, about having to tell her four year old son, and how it felt like she was dying herself i had to keep remembering to breathe myself.

there are some pains in life they say never fully go away, and this one, i'm pretty sure this is a never goes away one.

i still find it hard to talk about, or write about, which is something for me. though i never forget when it happened, or when that child's birthday would have been, or how old they would be now.

it was truly the most painful experience of my life. seven years ago, and it still hurts.

i did not want to say that to her, though. instead i told her i was there for her, to take care of her, and that i understood.

being a grown up really fucking sucks sometimes.

let me see the daylight

half life ~ duncan sheik

"before the truth goes back into hiding,
i want to decide 'cause it's worth deciding,
to work on finding something more than this fear .

it takes so much out of me to pretend,
tell me now, tell me how to make amends.

maybe, i need to see the daylight,
to leave behind this half-life,
don't you see i'm breaking down.

lately, something here don't feel right,
this is just a half-life,
is there really no escape?
no escape from time,
of any kind.

i keep trying to understand,
this thing and that thing, my fellow man,
i guess i'll let you know,
when i figure it out.

but i don't mind a few mysteries,
they can stay that way it's fine by me,
and you are another mystery i am missing.

it takes so much out of me to pretend

maybe, i need to see the daylight,
to leave behind this half-life,
don't you see i'm breaking down.

lately, something here don't feel right,
this is just a half-life.
is there really no escape?
no escape from time,
of any kind.

come on lets fall in love."

a daily reminder of what is important, something i seem to need more lately, a gentle (and often not so gentle) nudge. this song reminds me of what i do not want. i do not want to exist with unlived life in my veins, nor do i want to participate in any kind of a half-life. the spin cycle of drama and emotion always seems to loom at my door, but i'm learning to not always let it in. i can choose to be happy. i can choose to love. i can choose to say no i do not want to hurt any longer.

suppose it may sound like a practiced line of words, and words are only scratches on paper, or tap-tapping on keys, that stand next to each other trying to look pretty, or angry, or passionate, or something. and, words can be empty if they are not followed by action of some kind. the only action i can take, though, is my own. in that, and in my every breathing moment, i refuse to live in a state of waiting to be happy. i want to be happy now.

these words, they are not pointing at anyone, just at me. this is me nudging myself to remember to not put off being happy.

the next life

keep art alive; art by matthew woodson

"look, the world's going to turn either way.

wake up and be a part of it."
adam duritz

to me, one's birthday is your own personal new year's day. it is a start of a new year in your life, a reminder of being alive, being a part of this life, a recollection of all your memories you've collected in this world. i tend to get contemplative when my birthday nears, not in that fear and dread of getting older, but more in the what have i done and what do i want to do kind of way.

recently i was hit with this moment of clarity which has yet to leave me completely. instead it has stuck somewhere beneath my skin, an internal tattoo, reminding me of a personal truth that i refuse to ignore. it was simply this: i have a lot i want to do in this life so i better take care of myself - body, heart, mind, soul - because i intend on sticking around for a good long time.

call it a resolution, though i do loathe the expectation of failure that seems to attach itself to "resolutions". or better yet, just call it a path i would like to take. it is not change exactly, or even redirection, if anything it is direction. places and spaces, feelings and desires, none of them new...just...i think i have spent far too much time focused on drama, other people's emotions, perceived expectations (that were possibly not true), and insecurities that put up ugly obstacles full of words like "can't", "won't", "never", "impossible" and "regret".

not everything works the first time around, but there is more to life then clinging to mistakes, or false hopes. so, happy birthday to me, as silly (and possibly narcissistic) as that sounds. i have a lot of living left to do.

"see you in your next life when we'll fly away for good."

the next life ~ suede

just like starting over

"it's time to spread our wing's and fly,
don't let another day go by my love,
it'll be just like starting over."

at least that is the attitude i am choosing to take with this. my laptop is dead. the hard drive failed and i have literally lost everything i have saved on it (music, photos, writing). it is all replaceable, and i have been in this before - the state of losing things that mean something to me, and starting over - and i know how to get through it.

it still sucks, though.

so far, this year seems to be about loss and new beginnings; so be it, i suppose. i feel the shift in myself already, trying to remember to simplify, to breathe, to let things go, and to start over. and to remember to let myself make mistakes, breakdown, sort it out, and start again.

i may send a plea for music at some point. and, the story i am currently working on is in my drafts - so huzzah for that.

really, i have all that is important to me - my family and friends, and the people i love.

i'm lucky, truly i am.

i'll just brush self off & look ahead, best we can ever do really.

(just like) starting over ~ john lennon

song of the day

reminds my heart what love can yield

keep art alive; art by kristin burns

"paper paper obsolete,
how will you reach out to me?
i thought you'd ask me not to leave."

with each breath we change, we move, we disrupt the day before. and tucked in all of that - somewhere - is the truth. perhaps we find it in the wet streets that slick and shine just after a hard rain. or maybe in the lyrics of a song, the way someone else's heart can mimic our own. or is it in the quiet moments, when there are no other voices, no other sound. in the silence we find blank sheets of paper, reams of it, enough to build a paper castle to hide away in. but what is it that we write on them? or do we leave them blank, abandoning want and wish and chance?

i had a random conversation with someone i never talk to. one of those people who exist in my working environment, but who i never connect with. she told me a story about crabs, and how they are caught. that they are all put into an open lidded container, over-flowing to the point that they almost spill over. and yet, not a single crab ever escapes over the edge. she said the reason is that each and every crab pinches on to each other, keeping each other connected, yet keeping one another stuck in the bin. i left the conversation confused, and a bit shook up. do i want to be a crab, or do i want to topple over the side?

lonely, lonely ~ feist