Samira

Because human lives are composed in precisely such a fashion….They are composed like music. Guided by his sense of beauty, an individual transforms fortuitous occurrence into a motif, which then assumes a permanent place in the composition of the individual’s life.

The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful…. Metaphors are dangerous. Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a [someone] enters [their] first word into our poetic memory.

–Kundera, Unbearable Lightness of Being

received a time-capsule in the mail today: a vault of memories in the form of a notebook, collaborative musings of Brandin, Skylar & myself.

(history relies upon dissonance, upon discontinued familiarity, a fading into metaphors: the substitution of book for body; the colors that remind of her & the sounds that have become him.)

thank you, BB.
thank you for safekeeping this over all these years.
i can’t even begin to describe all that i am feeling right now.
i love you.

Skylar, rest in peace, friend.

Beyond the concept of time. Beyond awake lie a plethora of dreams. Streams of tomorrow’s memories. Songs of amnesia. Faceless friends and visible strangers. Beyond the language of our cursed minds lies a wilderness. A seed of darkness. Patient in the face of measurements and time. Because it is infinite. Beyond the limits of the word lie tiny gaps. Timeless vacuums. Tiny timeless gaps. These are the cracks in the timely measured concrete. Hairline cracks in gray cement. Timeless. Infinite. Untimed and unmeasured. Space. Gardens of violets. Oceans. Streams of freshly squeezed lemon. Sounds above a newly tuned grand piano. Songs and colors and scents. Infinitely sweet and full and hydrated. Mythical pockets. Smaller than the mind’s concept. So large. Beyond the narrow measures of time and distance exist small cracks. Voluptuous and small. pungent and narrow. Warm. Warmth. Wordless warmth. Eternal womb. Where there ticks no time. When everything is luster. And warm. Warmth. Not just some things. Sometimes. Luster is everything. Everything is luster. No ticking in the water’s warmth. The womb’s warm water.

And all that remains to be seen. In all its color. In all its melodious hum. In all its elusiveness. All the memories it instilled. Or dreams captured. That which has no audience still performs itself. Still performs. All which remains to be seen is not non-existent.

(history relies upon dissonance, upon discontinued familiarity, a fading into metaphors: the substitution of book for body; the colors that remind of her & the sounds that have become him.)

when The Muse strikes, you may find that she’ll rapidly corner a good portion of your world. should you find yourself so lucky, know this: she runs a tight ship. The Muse mediates her world through work and play, discipline and fun, boisterous humility and active listening. The Muse will be your enabler, your partner in crime, and she will kick your sorry ass out of bed the next day. and you’ll like it. after she drinks you under the table again, listen to her. you may learn something. The Muse is logic tempered with heart, and heart tempered with logic: she will call bullshit and love you all the same. perhaps even The Muse does not know that it is this, more than even her other gifts–that cracks the core of me, that make me grateful to call her my friend.

Carnen teaches and nurtures through gentle persistence:

it is how she mends my body;
it is how she builds my trust;
it is how she calms my heart.

thank you for your patient ways, your generous ear,
and your steadfast presence.

in the story of my life, time and time again,
you are the trope for healing:

and i am so grateful for our journey together.

one day each year i am reminded why the internet was invented & what its exact purpose is. that day is today: my mother’s birthday.

may 2nd sneaks up on me every year which puts a daughter like myself, living half-way across the globe, at a severe disadvantage. the story repeats itself, as seasons tend to do: april comes and goes, and before i know it may 1st arrives like a cruel time-bomb, ticking the hours down to mom’s birthday. in fact, it usually already is my mom’s birthday.

but as quickly as the hint of panic comes, so it goes away.

because, like last year and the years before, i search the web for flower delivery in the southern Dutch town of Breda. and yet again, without fail, the order in my universe has been restored:

one long-stemmed rose for each year she’s orbited around the sun.

happy birthday, mom!

“Mom was a world all her own…
We were a quality of landscape, Mom and I.”
–Scott Bradfield, The History of Luminous Motion

Please support my fundraising efforts for the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network

Kelly lost her father to pancreatic cancer 2 weeks ago. He had been diagnosed only 4 months ago. Think about that for a moment: 4 months. 4 months is a flash. Many of us have been unemployed for longer periods than that, have traveled for longer periods than that. Think about a semester in college. We’re talking a very short period of time.

I can’t even imagine what Kelly, Brad and Emily have gone through these past months, having to say goodbye to their dad in such a short amount of time. I’ll be joining Kelly on her birthday for a fundraiser walk, in memory of her father: Mike Blanchard.
Please stop by my fundraiser page & join us if you want to, donate if you can.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.

Much love

sam

Lucho left me this message at 8am in the morning:

Ta-ta-da-da-ta-daaa!
Sam:
Come on Sam!
Do the raver dance!

Enjoy: Listen

i'm about to go to bed, and i'm still wearing my shoes. my 34 years have finally caught up with me & i'm really scared, because every last part of me wants to run away so fast right now. but i'm not giving up. i know i have to learn this lesson.

i must learn to trust that not every relationship ends in abandonment.

when i was approaching the tollbooths, i kid you not, about 20 cop cars with blinding reds and blues, sirens, were swarming around at very high speeds, all heading towards my general direction…

it was like a wild goose chase. there were cops coming from the bridge, from oakland, from behind me. it seemed like something i’d imagine as some strange version of bumper cars at burning man.

the vehicle that was being chased was careening towards me, swerving every direction before it dove into the space where the two freeways merge, a ditch of some kind, still going the wrong direction.

the vehicle must have made it out, because as we were coming back, those 20 cop cars were parked on the 80 east, all still with lights on. phillip said he had thought i exaggerated when i said “20 cop cars”. then he looked and his jaw dropped. he said there were at least 20 cop cars.

http://www.insidebayarea.com/oaklandtribune/localnews/ci_11485074

yup. good old east bay.
just where you think you can have a quick trip over the bridge at 2.30am:

the excitement never stops.

at this exact moment i am grateful for:

• a good night’s rest last night, which helped me kick ass today
• finishing up my 2007 taxes
• staying on track with building my new savings account, putting away 20% of my earnings each paycheck
• my job, my colleagues & the growth we’re experiencing
• kelly, who just plain rocks my socks off–she’s such a wonderful friend
• my relationship with todd, from which i continue to grow and learn
• todd, who continues to crack me open with his tiniest of gestures
• my colleague chris, who left the company last friday after 6 1/2 years–
  his absence this week really crystallized for me how important it is to love your job:
  over the past 4 years i’ve spent more time with some of my colleagues than with my family
  and even some friends. we spend a large percentage of lives at work.
  please do something you enjoy!
• my cat. she is perfect.
• mateo, for knowing where (and when)  to find me.
• belen, for reaching out & being so wonderfully up front and open in her communications
  (whether it concerns beer & pizza, or deep and personal matters)
• luscious (no particular reason. she just makes me happy)

i know there’s more, but this is a good start.

sam

In reflecting on my nice weekend i just had,
i am grateful for:

* getting silly with everyone after pearl’s alley on friday.
* todd and lucho, for taking me to see the monarchs, even though they had already departed.
* a drive home without traffic (small pleasures, i know)
* seeing Luscious and Weazie perform their final “Wait Until Dark” at the Altarena on saturday.
* margaritas with Luscious and crew after the play.
* todd & mateo picking me up for a day of frolicking on the beach.
* spending some sam-time on the beach.
* collecting a few beautiful rocks.
* sharing my fried chicken sandwich with everyone (i am grateful for bakesale betty)
* seeing lucho, jeffrey and shama (<3), hunny and joe
* seeing luscious and dave (so happy to see them!)
* spending time with tracy and frank
* spending time with todd this weekend & feeling really thankful for where we are right now
* having a tear-inducing, stomach-wrenching giggle-fit for at least 3 miles on highway 9
* tracy’s incredibly touching email last night
* movies & kittens & snuggles with todd yesterday
* having a good talk with my boss today, after leaving work feeling unsupported on friday.

a lot to be grateful for & that feels nice.