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April 4th, 2018

* Trying, really, to find my way back here. Back to a community that is connected primarily via creativity. That's what LJ is for me, always has been. But each time I open a tab to post from, my mouth goes dry and I have to stand up quickly and find some sort of truly menial busy work. Washing all the windows in the house, washing the cupboards, spening 15 minutes decluttering, standing on the edge of the deck looking out into the woods, the trees blurry with grief. Who knew that grief would demand so much cleanliness? Not I. This week has been very bad. Easter. And the promise of spring's renewal at the end of every tree branch, beneath the ground, in the courtship song of the robins. It's wrecked me. I actually hyperventilated this morning driving back home from a night at my mother's house. Had to pull the car over and try to remind my body of the mechanics of breathing. Terrible. I'm not sleeping but I can't seem to read, so it's lying awake in the night sifting through memories as sharp as photographs. Strange.

* One thing I'm learning about loss. There's no sense in ripping yourself open. There are no words of comfort and there is no healing to be found in tears. There is only this - "Do not walk away in sorrow. Do not be consoled."

* But April is the month of poetry, and I've forced myself to enroll in a poetry workshop. I think this is a step forward even if it feels a bit like falling into the abyss. We shall see.

* I bought two old electric typewriters at the thrift store last week and they are quite amusing! Typing class in highschool was like learning a new language and we had the machines that had unmarked keys. It's impressive how much the modern keyboard is an improvement over the old clickety clacking.

* D and I are watching The Terror. I was giddy to discover that my celebrity crush - Jared Harris - is in the cast. I just absolutely adore his face and his teeth and the lispy way he has of talking. I love him. Not quite sure about the show yet. Hope it begins to fall into place.

* James Baldwin -

Life is tragic simply because the earth turns, and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time. Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, which is the only fact we have. It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death – ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life. One is responsible to life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return, […] (“Down at the Cross,” in The Fire Next Time.)

Sad to hear that these two kids broke up. Recognitions is their last album. But it's glorious.


anatomical beat

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