& also

Feb. 21st, 2016 12:55 pm
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I think I've just been exhausted. Took a good long walk with Critter and felt that burning-edges-ache of not enough sleep. I might take notes today instead of writing, do my taxes, work on more major arcana. The diss. writing will come.

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Sometimes akresis is so much more appealing than taking care. I rode my bike to the train today in hopes (in part) of kicking up my bodily/cardiac capacity as I gear up (whatever) to quit smoking. I already don't really want to but there it is on my calendar, mockingly cheery in purple ink. It's the equinox today, Rosh Chodesh on Thursday. Today the river stank beautiful and brackish, eddies or whirlpools gathering speed and running upstream it looked above 96th, huge ships docked and polarized clouds. Yesterday I lay on the warm grass up on a hill in Morningside with Critter, felt the mana pour in, springtime.

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The new moon makes me permeable and weepy, even on T, last night spent on the verge of tears even hours after a good kitchen-table talk with my bro about long-held character misgivings etc re: T., the times he had that other boy over while I was away and how it weirded my brother out, the context, the superficiality, the way he apparently "looks just like you, well, you know," another small dark-haired tranny with sturdy hips I guess, what do I know. I dragged myself to the gym to break the post-bus hit-by-a-truck feeling before a couple hours of work at MaxCaffe over milky black tea. Then cos all I wanted was to smoke cigarettes I treated myself to veggie bun xao noodles from Saga (another trigger, where Daddy used to buy us food, credit cards I can't remember and probably maxed out anyway still on file) for dinner instead and bought a cheap bottle of Camenere from Harlem Vintage. Le souci de soi, and this morning:

-modeh ani when I wake up gray outside ready to cry
-wiping down the baseboards
-oatstraw infusion in the washed-out jar from the preserved lemons, switched to the scrubbed-out jar from last solstice's sourdough starter
-tefillin, feeding the dove, a kala I need more of
-to the gym! deadlifts to Gillian's harrow and harvest
-picking up my tailored hand-me-down diesels, the winter coat I never dry-cleaned til now
-seeing Sebastian in for his stay
etc etc etc, this is life now. Today I have to present in BioLogix on a paper I haven't really written yet, but luckily I'm retooling an essay I worked on before so I should be able to turn it out without getting tweaked; I really am trying to do it without pills now, for this paper at least.

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I'm drinking dark rum on the rocks with grenadine and lemon, missing the lime, greasing up my leather
this is something like le souci de soi, I hope.
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Definitely, finally praying and practicing helped. But my little evening walk with Critter just let it all soak in and snap into place: the golden summer light, my new-to-me gay neighbor on 122nd so handsome he makes me blush, dog conversations on the stoop (Critter eating fortune cookie crumbs from underneath Mac's chair and Mac saying something like, "Critter wants to hang out here with the men but he can't cos he don't have no nuts!"), picking stinging nettle from the weed-patch fence near the garden (my neighbor Mac again, asking do I know what this is and am I gonna eat it?) I do love living someplace where I can walk around with a weed in my hand and people wanna know if it's dandelion or turnip greens or what and am I gonna cook it. I put it on my altar instead, this towering spindly nettle. I'm glad I don't look a total mess in my (T's) SO.DO.MY shirt and green shorts but I should remember to put a little something on it now that I've got this hot neighbor! We dog-talked cos he's got a dog and I recounted Critter's slutty adventures in the dog park. "He had a real power-bottom morning," I said. "Sounds good to me," new neighbor said, smiling up at me from his crouch on the ground, screwing nails into wood planks.

And now, I need some yoga, and a hyssop bath, and to decide whether or not to go out tonight.
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Tisha B'Av was appropriately hard, feeling what I could through the fast of brokenness, shattering, all the ways we destroy the mishkan, or fail to re-build it. Mama and Daddy-o came up cos Bro's having a hard time; they all went home together. I was torn but I'm glad I stayed, because I went to go learn and break the fast with my rabbi and Romemu people. We learned about the teaching that the moshiach is born on Tisha B'Av, born on Tisha B'Av that is, not come, not arrived. Redemption crowning, but not come, our job to give moshiach a good upbringing. We learned, drawing from some wordplay on three rivers mentioned in the Book of Daniel that I wish I could remember, about the possibility of redemption being founded on that river 'maybe,' an incapacity to be content with what was once good enough and set sail on that maybe. We learned more about what translates in Devarim as "turn and go up," or "turn and face it"--- all this stuff so freakishly relevant. 7 weeks-- another sefirah-- between now and Rosh Hashanah. My rabbi talked about the temple not as the literal structure, but as the Earth, the Shekhinah, "the divine mother herself in the trees, in the ocean, in the eyes [of someone reaching out]..." Uch, it was so good. I was still feeling pretty heavy and sad even with the break-fast so I sat down without the energy to fake it, and this beautiful lithe bright-eyed girl came right over to sit by me. She was awesome, and her friend was awesome, and we sat next door at my favorite Cafe Viva with the gorgeous counterboy who flashed his green-eyed grin my way and gave me free food (next time, next time-- it wasn't quite the right time to put out another line.)

And oh, did I forget one of the best parts, my rabbi saying goodbye by calling me "sweetie" in the most loving-kind way and us pulling each other into a good solid hug?

There is lots of pain on this precipice right now but there is tons of love too if I just remember to plug in.
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I'm not saying consumer capitalism is the way to go, I'm just saying that
one on-sale pink Ben Sherman shirt
one ounce frankincense
one ounce hyssop
might just go a long way

eight stack

Sep. 2nd, 2010 06:47 pm
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After an awesome French reading class today I was struck with frittering anxiety gathering speed so I walked in the hot heat, got a smoothie 10ยข short from a truck on University and set to combing the stacks outside the Strand. Sometimes, like today, the dollar racks are a blessing from the city/universe/Gods. I scored:

-A three-inch wide book called The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling with illustration plates, a gift for Taylor.

-Escoffier's Ma Cuisine, in English malheureusement.

-The Kybalion, a little blue hardback book of soi-disant Hermetic philosophy

-Woman Who Glows in the Dark, about curanderismo

-The Quantum Gods, a real black occult paperback from Weiser

-Paul Auster's City of Glass, which the guy inside congratulated me on

-A dark little gastronomical novel called The Debt to Pleasure with a cut-out on the jacket framing a picture of a peach

-And oh, maybe the best for last, Kazantzakis' The Saviors of God: Spiritual Exercises
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Last night I saw the big fat orange crescent moon rising up through the trees near the fountain in Central Park. Today, better late than never, I'm remembering Doris' diy anti-depression tips and going for a speed-strong iced coffee at the Hungarian with Spinoza and then meandering through the park.
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The moon must be waning because I want to cull, cull, cull! organize + eliminate. It feels great to finally do it! Split that infinitive hard, okay, cos I just cleared a whole space. Taylor's room looks better already.

I got to leave work way early today because I'm technically contagious and while I got a stormcloud over my head for a minute when I thought I'd ruined one of my most favorite pair of shoes by smearing beeswax conditioner all over their non-smooth surface, that cleared. I got a nubuck cleanin' kit from the CVS and prayed over my shoes, seriously, Blessed art You...Revitalization, creation and beauty. They look a lot better now.


Jan. 26th, 2010 09:15 pm
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When I start thinking I need a Sex Change I probably really just need a haircut.


Oct. 9th, 2009 04:25 pm
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"Oatstraw and oats strengthen and nourish the nerves and the nervous system. Full of nerve-cell nutrients, oatstraw helps regulate nervous system and chakra energies. The emotional and subtle bodies benefit amazingly from regular use, and psychic abilities often improve. By nourishing and tonifying the nerves and helping to eliminate bio-electrical resistance, oatstraw opens the nervous system to a wide range of terrestrial and galactic energies."
(---susun weed, healing wise)
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It feels hot this morning, and I got 5.5 hours of sleep so I feel sort of out of sorts. On the up side, I drank a bottle of champagne with Seth and Matt (mostly between Matt and me) at 1:30 last night, and finished my paper, so I feel good despite the heaviness in my finger joints and humid feeling in my room.

A question for those of you who know about this sort of thing:
I just got this nice rope, and I don't want it to get all kinked and full of bad habits. But I also want to store it neatly. Right now I have it coiled like any other line (ie, not flat coiled on the floor but coiled and wrapped with the bight around the bundle). I put all the little bundles in this dinky wooden tape box (you know, the kind with an accordion top that rolls back) because I like having things all neatly packed away. Is this a bad idea? What's a better one?


Apr. 8th, 2007 01:24 pm
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My palms smell like bleach, wiping the counter clean, spraying down the fridge, picking crumbs up off the floor. I've been on such an organizing sweep lately, photos into folders and the surfaces of our house. Meanwhile my whole body is singing of knots, stretching open: making fists and tying lines, finding space and pulling tight.

mint chip

Mar. 7th, 2007 10:27 pm
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And then I finished my Descartes essay (with the words "good enough," tellingly), and then I fixed a small cup of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and then I was a happy boy. The end.
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like early April outside.
shined my shoes yesterday. that is one of the most satisfying things in the world. smelled like shoe polish all throughout my seminar.
buffing my nails.
filing off rough edges, in the grander sense.
my heart is all about opening, opening, opening wide once I have a cup of coffee. seriously.
caffeine works magic. diy anti-blues.
not anti the blues, just anti the 'end of the semester and I'm a fuck-up' dumps that yr down in.
only thing that would make it better is if a big wind picked up.
I think I deserve a nap. I wish I had Nietzsche on tape so I could fall asleep listening to Thus Spoke Zarathustra cos I don't want to use my eyes right now.
Or paragraphs.

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First the trivial thing ) It's all very inspiring.

Now the more important thing ) And it feels really good to just be here with whatever it is at the moment, breathing.

Also, if anyone knows how it is possible to mail freshly-baked cupcakes to yr Texan girlfriend via the us postal service, please let me know. I haven't made them yet but I want to make sure they're fresh, and that the delicious frosting that I'll have crafted doesn't melt and crust onto the packing tape in transit.

edited to add: Oh yes, I forgot: I ordered a pretty cheap subscription to The Nation today. I realized I am so out of touch with even basic progressive-bent news, and I do feel kind of grown-up to have a subscription to a political magazine. How erudite, hahaha.

There is so much that I want to know about that I probably never will. Hence the skillshare with Nicole. First I better study up on rhizomatics!


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