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.)

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.

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

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

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.

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.

• 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

* 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.

i know you’re dying to read this.

your pursuit outlasted my running;
your persistence outlasted my stubbornness:
you took me down kicking and screaming, and i’m glad you did.

i have learned that first impressions can be wrong
and can, instead, deliver themselves in the form of a friendship
filled with silly adventures and memorable laughter,
hours of story-telling and attentive listening,
epic outdoor music and personal beats,
a metric ton worth of all things pink and beer.

you are loyal to the core. you are driven, generous, and fun.
i also know that i can depend on you no matter what.

when i think about you in my life, Dragi,
i think about camaraderie.

you make my world a better place, because i know i can find you:
you are solid as a fucking rock.
a pink one of course.

extroverted yet introverted, because you know your limits.
young yet wise, because you are perceptive.
vulnerable yet strong, because you acknowledge your fears.
clumsy yet graceful, because you’re not afraid to fall.

there is something ancient and magical about your total embrace of the journey:
you make me smile for the legacy you are leaving behind.

you have taught me so much about communication and,
more importantly, about my own communication.
we are two such different people, yet you have consistently met me half-way.
through you, i have been able to discover some of my own fundamental stumbling blocks.

i am inspired by your dedication to reaching your goals.
i love the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about helping children in hospitals.

i am amazed by your photography. through some of your photos
i’ve come to see new aspects of people and moments in time.

when i think of you in my world, i am most grateful for your commitment to balance.

i so much respect and understand your need for solitude,
and your ability to ask for time alone.

if i could only pick one word to express what you bring to my world,
it would be compassion.

& how else to withstand the enormity of such burden,
the burden of sight, but to believe
that there can only be the grace of others?

Danetta & Belen made me smile this week.
so here you go:
reply to this blog & i’ll tell you
why you make my world a better place to live.

—————————————————————————————————-
you’re permitted to copy, distribute, display and perform the contents
of this blog entry, as well as make derivative works based on it.
—————————————————————————————————-

10 – Amber (debut digital DJ set)
11 – Aaron Jae
12 – Samira
1 – Denise

Thisrty: Every fourth Thursday
February 28 – Heartbreakers (a.k.a. Icon & Smoove)

Matador, 10 6th Street, SF
10pm – 2am
No cover. 21+

(Thanks, Amber!)

• recognizing that it is important to articulate my gratitude.
• seeing Lisa absolutely shine on opening night in an incredible play.
• going for margaritas with Luscious and David after the play.
• having a 3 day weekend after a relentless work week but, much more importantly: Martin Luther King
• 2 gigs coming up next week.
• a heartfelt email from Todd.
• seeing Todd tomorrow.
• my friendship with Kelly.
• my beautiful kitten.
• purple lipstick.
• finally replacing one of my most treasured records, which i lost in 2003 at a party in Austin playing a 12 hour 2×4 set (Thanks, Addictech!)

Immodest creature, you do not want
a woman who will accept your faults,
you want one who pretends
that you are faultless–one who will
caress the hand that strikes her
and kiss the lips that lie to her.

George Sand, Intimate Journal, 1834

Thanks, Nitevibe

here you are, on the last day of august, completely calm and content:
in front lies the imminent reminder of how small you are. yet there you are:
in full embrace of this never-ending expanse of cloud in the sky.

out there in front of us, as Nature, we perceive such awe-inspiring vastness
as a kind of testament to life.

inside of us, as Human Nature, we receive that same vastness
with panic and discontent. it is easy to allow it to consume us, paralyze us.
and a kind of entropy occurs.

it’s funny how we feel so desperately alone when we are afraid,
yet we are so universally bound by this emotion.

there is so much more i want to say to you, Todd,
but i figured i’d start with this picture, and with the reminder
that our experience of this vastness can be so quickly transformed
(not always, but we can try regardless)
with just a bit of sunshine, some cheddar cheese, a few beers,
and in the company of a friend. add a dash of music,
and a few stray cows, and voila…

i love you, sweetheart.

samira

With Resident DJs:
DJ Amber (yay, Amber! hi roomie!)
DJ Denise
Samira
dj Missao

Your favorite house, techno, and breakbeat sounds
including original track premieres. Venue recently
renovated including new sound and DJ gear.
Come on out!

Matador, 10 6th Street, SF
10pm – 2am
No cover. 21+

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too nearyour slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

–e. e. cummings

I wonder what the sorry was behind this… it was in a plastic bag I removed. Dropped or thrown on the street? Was it dramatic?…was it forgetful? Perhaps it was ordinary…or not so ordinary….A brief moment captured on the street scape.

this picture speaks to me on so many levels.

but for me, its most important message is the fact that you posted it.
that you captured it in the midst of yet another 80+ work week.

i’ve been watching you burn the candle at both ends for months now:
even living with you, all i mostly see is that you leave for work & you go to sleep.

this snapshot signifies your perseverance and strength: even at the height of this crazy rat-race, sacrificing yet another saturday to the firm, you saw a thing of intrigue. you stopped. you captured it. you shared it.

i’m impressed. and i’m smiling.

love you

November 16, 2007 8:PM the Stockton Breakbeat Alliance Strikes Again!

Our schooled and learned diplomats have searched far and wide (mostly the Bay Area) to bring you two DJ’s that you should check out and dance your ass off to. The other one’s from Stockton and keeps putting these things on. 1) Samira (Sister SF/Seismic) is a DJ of epic ability and following. You should feel so lucky to catch her set. 2) The Arhitect: precise, bass heavy and just right now! 3) your own 3r@in (Perpetual dB) is from Stockton and is itching to get some bass waves to your brain…from his brain that is! So Come on down to the Blackwater Cafe from 8-12 and dance your rear end off!!!!!

The Blackwater Cafe
912 N. Yosemite Ave.
Stockton, CA

Clothes
My closet (my “proverbial closet”, since I don’t have an actual closet) was by far the easiest area of Operation Declutter. And that’s why it was also the first area I really focused on.

Strategy
Before I started I gave myself one simple guideline: What haven’t I worn in a year?

I’m not talking 3 months, or even 6 months—I’m talking one whole year.
I didn’t want to spend too much time trying to figure out whether I might wear a certain item at some point. If I haven’t worn an article of clothing in the past year, chances are pretty high that I will not wear it ever. Despite the fact that said article is in as good as new condition.

Within 20 minutes I managed to downsize my closet by 50%. I filled up 2 large garbage bags: 1 was trash (stained, beyond repair, too worn out), and 1 was to be donated.

Socks
My sock situation was truly out of hand. I know, how bad can a sock situation be? All I know is that my ratio of single socks to pairs of socks was beyond astronomical. I would do a load of laundry, wash all my dirty socks, and somehow only manage to find 5 pairs of socks. Out of some 30 or 40 socks. How is this possible? I know I’m not alone in this; it seems to be a fairly common problem, so I decided enough was enough.

Strategy
My guideline for the sock project was to throw away all socks that did not have a matching pair. It’s time that I would rather spend elsewhere, and a source of irritation—however minor–that I don’t really find useful to perpetuate ;-)

So, I washed “all” (I’ll come back to this later) my laundry, and put all the socks in a different hamper. After I finished folding my clothes, I allowed myself 15 minutes to tackle the sock pile: anything beyond 15 minutes was likely to end up in a forged union.

After I put away my matching socks, I was rather appalled at the volume of lonely singletons. I hesitated for a brief moment, but prevailed: straight to the trash.

To be continued…

words accost me when i need them most. words strangle me when i want to be unstrangled. untangled. words silence when i wish to speak. the rest gets played out in metaphors. (history relies upon dissonance, upon discontinued familiarity, a fading into metaphors: the substitution of book for body, the colors that remind of him, the sounds that have become her)

metaphor: to substitute one thing for another. something vanishes from your life, and thus you fill the empty space with symbols. like a song that reminds you of someone, or a street name, a number, a certain time of day. things that are important to some, not to others. arbitrary concrete signifiers, with which we attempt to fill the vacancies in our lives.

they are not the things themselves, but rather the empty spaces, the feelings, they represent.

i struggle with words, because i cannot trust them. i know how unreliable language is; i speak too many of them to still believe in some absolute truth. culture shapes language. experience shapes language. also, language shapes us. the reason why i ran into your bedroom, crying, nearly 8 years ago, is not because i didn’t know how to write. it was because i couldn’t find the words to express what i meant to say.

it was because language betrayed me. over and over again, i wrote down sentences and phrases, somehow trying to capture thoughts and feelings with words, and my experience seemed cheapened. it was another falling into consciousness. another heart-break.

i have learned that language itself is not truth. i have learned that everything outside of language is truth. and this is what liberated me. finally. it has taken me years, and sometimes i still hate the fact that language cannot be pure. i hate that words are untrustworthy, yet i rely on them so much.

metaphor: to substitute one thing for another.

i see language as one of the most pervasive metaphors in my life. i substitute language for all the sacred things in my life that i cannot express. like love. like sadness. and this is why i write.

you see, i did not shave my head to shock the world. metaphor: to substitute one thing for another. hair is very symbolic, very metaphorical. hair signifies so many different things–it is beauty, sex, power, and it is feminine. i used to resent people for identifying me with my hair, for seeing me as the girl with the beautiful hair.

you know what i realized? i realized that, more than other people identifying me with my hair, i identified myself with my hair. my hair was my own metaphor; it symbolized something that was missing. once i understood this, i became very afraid. i couldn’t imagine my life without hair; i couldn’t separate my own identity from it. the thought of having it all gone was so frightening, i had no other option but to shave it all off. i had to get rid of it in order to know that there was still a person underneath it all once it was not there anymore.

about a month after i shaved it all away i had a panic attack. i cried and mourned over all my beautiful hair that is now gone. and i have to say that it has made me stronger. i had to learn how to love myself, how to face the person i am inside, not the image and the representation of the woman with the beautiful hair.

even if i grow it back to its original length, at least i am certain now that i carry some inherent truth within. i had to know for sure.

Qoöl : Da Recap : Industry News and Gossip

i just received my new passport.

Greencard: check.
Dutch Passport: check.
Travel in the near future: check.

What a relief to have all my paperwork back in order again.