unrivaled to unraveled. the first 10 days.


 
 
never
  ending
never
  understood
never
  peace
 
 
fighting
  to be
    free . . .
 
 
unrivaled.
 
 
stuck
spikes
swirls
set points

repeat.
 
 
out of the loop

dismissed
diminished
detached
 
 
the aches
the pains
but still
the dreams
the hopes
 
 

 
 
the moon
cold and full
looms over
my decision
to silently
withdraw
until epiphanies
are no longer
muffled like
solid rock
 
 
to be
effervescent
again
to be
clever
again
to be admired
again
to be
april
again
 
 
blocks
trampling
their way
through
openings
green
fresh
inviting
 
 
creative
strength
training
inside
underneath
hidden
difficult
 
 
unraveled.
 
 
but . . .

“you will be okay.
you will be okay.
you will be okay.”
 
 

 
 
[i was going to attempt to explain how these words came to be written. and why. but instead, i think i’ll just let the piece speak for itself. because its creative arc happened quite magically, and the hows and the whys are not always necessary.]
 
 
 
 

that ghostly corridor

my word of the year for 2024 is TAPESTRY. and i’ll be saying more about what that’s meant for me closer to december’s end.

but i also chose what i called an auxiliary or secondary word VIBE. here’s how i characterized it in my head: a vibration that changes throughout the year to align with and adjust to my many mercurial moods.

the woman’s brave hues

for the past ten days, i’ve been immersed in a very interesting creative practice, taking a journey deep into my body’s spontaneous wisdom. as part of a year-long course i am enrolled in, i was invited to “meditate upon the poetry of my mysterious inner life.”

each day, i set aside a few minutes to quickly pull from a magazine an image that attracted me, a picture that produced a strong emotional charge (even if i didn’t fully understand why at the time).

that direction

i glanced in that direction
and i wondered

what was keeping me from
proceeding down that way?

insecurity, fear, confusion?
maybe just indifference

what would change in my life
if i decided to go? or not go?

and what would either moving
or staying say about me?

undulating


 
 
TAPESTRY . . . weaving
the layers of my life

i thought they would come
together in the form of
storytelling this year

but so far 2024 has had
something else in mind
for me and i’m still
unraveling the “why”s and
the lessons behind them

an intense and daily
headache for six months
one continuous and invasive
throbbing that stole away
many precious moments

i felt myself fading into
the background, worrying
about the-worst-it-could-be

and just like that, now
it’s gone – an MRI with no
conclusive findings, likely
my maxillary sinus perforated,
a dental visit gone awry

VIBE .

your time is now

ciao! i have big news to share on this summer solstice day . . .

announcing the first of two retreats celebrating
💚❤️ THE ARRIVAL FAREWELL TOUR ❤️💚

THE ARRIVAL 2024 (#6)
🇮🇹 tuscany, italy 🇮🇹
september 16-21

 
 
and guess what?

what i’m doing

what i’m reading: the wrong hostage by elizabeth lowell, a place in the world: finding the meaning of home by frances mayes

what i’m watching: the saint tv series, season 1 (1962), starring roger moore

what i’m listening to: i’m not a fan of audio, but i am currently enrolled in two online courses: “neuro linguistic programming (NLP) practitioner / life coach certification” and “the art of healing depression” (with shelley klammer)

what i’m eating: cabbage & carrots, organic blue corn tortilla chips, pepitas, iced tea

what i’m planning: “talk & walk” one-to-one coaching sessions in wallace, THE ARRIVAL farewell tour (2024-25) at villa magnolia in italy
 
 
 
 

it’s the smallest things

it’s the smallest things. it’s the way she always uses my mom’s chair on the pink house porch to leave me tokens of affection. the way my orange pen glides across the page so smoothly and with such vivid color (and can be erased too – gone, just like that).

this poem

this poem is not what you might think.

this poem will not adequately delve into my oft-imagined daydream of a boho-chic lifestyle, 60 years ago in the 60s, in the avant-garde garment district of new york city. in an ultra-modern industrial warehouse loft, dancing with my two-year-old daughter named something fantastical like avalon topanga or crescent arabella.

nature girl

i posted this picture of myself a week ago, with the hashtag nature girl 2024.

i have never wanted to go backpacking. and i don’t camp out. in fact, as an adult, i’d rather be inside (anywhere) than outside.

i always thought this meant i wasn’t fully appreciating or embracing nature, so i set out this year to do more things outdoors, to pay more attention to the natural world.