high tide

Aug. 2nd, 2009 05:39 pm
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It must've rained lots during the night and then it started pouring this morning because the bottom of my road near River Road was flooded, the creek all brown and roaring high on the left and up the banks on the other shoulderless side water rushing down from the rocks. The river is huge and chocolate brown, all the way up past the bench on the Frenchtown side. Colin and his friend Diana and I took an oregon trail tour around Tinicum and Bridgeton, up Headquarters across the flooded dirt plain of Sheephole Road, making every precarious bridge crossing we could think of. Eventually we went up to Ringing Rocks all cool and herbaceous with rain, the mud rising up against our feet, and walked down over puddle-rocks to the waterfall which'd grown huge with rain and pounding endless patterns of shale-red water swirls down. We climbed up onto the rocks above where it gathered force, down below where it crashed in a fine spray, ferns and bugs and spongy mud. On the walk back up I found a little yod-shaped stone.

july

Jul. 30th, 2009 05:32 pm
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(all of my pictures seem to be at my kitchen table these days.)

pop

Jul. 27th, 2009 05:10 pm
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1)I am in love with Noxzema! I know it's not good to wash yr face too much but that stuff just tempts me.

2)Right now I want to go drink a big glass of water and eat the dark red cherries in our fridge drawer, spit the pits.

3)I'm proud of myself today for taking responsibility without taking any shit, you know?

4)I have soo many new books to read- trying to cram it all in before school starts at the end of the month-- it's almost overwhelming!

5)Is it just me or are the leaves getting ready to drop?
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1) Late August back home in PA makes me understand the dying god, burgeoning sun within the Earth, the grass getting dry where maple and oak leaves can't outstretch their shade. Everything is lush, the clouds thick and bramble buzzing with bees, butterflies, a red-tailed hawk keeeeing off over the hills somewhere. Everything is rolling, tumbling, sticky with sex.

So, a poem I wrote back in summer of 2002. )


2) I smell like dry woodsy vetiver and skin-salt, oceanic dry grass and geranium. I love it.

3) Rory's sister got married (my first gay wedding-- I felt so much less cynical than I'd expected!) and seeing Rory was great. We took a eucalpytus-y sauna together and talked late about Gods and spirits, woke up and had coffee and weird pillsbury orange rolls before the caterers arrived for brunch, went swimming. She smokes Marlboro Smooths now and claims they taste like Thin Mints. I got a bunch of her old t-shirts that don't fit her now and I especially love the pale yellow one with big painty flowers and the Barbara Kruger "you construct intricate rituals..." one which is hard-won (I only got it cos it's so small.)
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I miss the land at home, the sweet dry grass smell as the earth bakes, the cornfields rushing by the river and the way magic catches in the bushes bordering our field.

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