spiderweb

when we were younger, i remember one saturday we all decided to make a giant maze-web thing in a front yard. The yard was huge to us and so was the web... we spent time weaving these ropey things through different branches and making sure it would be difficult to get out of.

it took up our whole afternoon and we loved it.

so why do we still like doing that? why do we spin this complex webs around our lives... ensuring that entrance and exit will not be easy... everything becomes a giant mess entangled in every other bit... our webs are caught in other peoples webs, and they in turn just become a giant mad mess. we invite people to come play in our webs... knowing it will only make it more complicated for us to move around or understand our own homey web...

maybe as long as we continue to spin our webs as intricately and problematically as we grew up doing, we ourselves ensure that life will stay interesting... you'll catch people, children, bugs, problems, more problems...

who knew at the time that we were just training for our jumbled futures?

i love broken glass

broken glass is to me always more interesting than the vase from which it came. the colors and edges are always eye-catching and enticing. the whole vase only entices me to pick it up and throw it and listen to its crash as it becomes a million interesting pieces.

i want a new puppy. stella was suicidal. she left when i did. but she and i were perfect together, i wish i could have told her to stay, because we made a good team, her with her broken glass and me with mine.

i don't like boys that have their glass in tact... it makes me either want to pick it up and smash it or walk away... i much prefer to listen to the tingling of shards on shards and feel the jagged edges of a puzzle that is impossible to put together... and if somehow it gets put together... i generally run away from it. those things belong in a museum for the uninteresting, not on my bookshelf.

what is my fascination with the absurd, the broken, shattered? i dunno, i suppose i see a depth there that is nonexistent in the perfectly put together--it doesn't get boring or old... every time you look, the light diffracts differently. the colors are different, the pieces put together differently and show a different story, the pieces are different in themselves...

not that they are harsh or cold, because i find the museum piece far more unwelcoming than broken glass.

febuary summer sunday

you know those days when you're in love with the world and it just doesn't matter what goes wrong, it can't get you down? that was my sunday... it felt like one of those transitory days between seasons where its warm but not at all hot, just comfortable...anything that was irritating or went terribly wrong... just made me laugh... its just one of those days that fit right.

We all live fast and forget to throw our hair back and dance and take in the moment. to feel the wind, not miss it or be irritated by it. To not rush to meet expectations or to do anything remarkable. rather, the best day in the world for me sounds terribly boring if i were to write down how it went down... but it was perfect. Its important for us to appreciate simple emotions: comfort, fun, parky.

yeah... i said parky and i meant it... if today wasn't a day to go to the park, or at least go outside and play... then... well... it just was.