heart (land

what makes a heart?

time               dirt               weather

heart (land.jpg

closer to Denver than Los Angeles

we become our true shapes over centuries            millennia

it is impossible to see             to know

sometimes, though, a glimpse through the veil

what came before                       what will remain

 

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Hello from the future

The problem is often being in two places at one time. But sometimes I  fail at being in one place at one time:

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This space is a time zone of its own. Here, it is already tomorrow. I know there is an explanation. The explanation is not that I set this up in Australia. I know there is another explanation. I do not want to know what it is. I do not want to understand the mechanics.

I exist in the space between. I believe in the magic of two or more countries.

Time zones

I have taken to pretending this space does not exist. It is preferable to knowing it has been abandoned. Yesterday, a friend reminded me to visit.

My times are not quite right. I haven’t really slept since Sunday. And as for this space. It has been years.

Why Sunday? Why today? Sunday I travelled from Australia to the States. Today, one friend told another friend that I had just returned. I am always just returning. And sometimes I get lost.

Why Sunday? Why today? Sunday, my daily sonnet is dated 2/17. Today, and I notice every day since Sunday, it is mistakenly dated 3/21. I have made corrections. But where did the month go? Have I lived February and most of March? How was it? How was it for you?

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Why are you from where you are from?

Hello. It has been quite some time. I see, in fact, it has been seven months. A lot has happened. I have been places and returned. Geographically and otherwise. I imagine you have also traveled. Geographically and otherwise.

Only last week I did this:

LAX-MEL.jpg

I have been thinking, often, that I would like to return. But having been away for seven months, it is so easy not to.

Then yesterday, a lovely man asked me: Why are you from Australia?

It isn’t what he meant to ask me.

I know because I laughed harder than I have laughed in some time and asked, Did you just asked me Why I’m from Australia?

And he agreed that he did in fact ask me that, though he meant to ask why I was at the Boulder Public Library when I am so clearly from Australia.

I didn’t answer either of his questions last night.

Here are some of the reasons why I am from Australia:

  1. Because after all of the dying, there had to be life
  2. Because Poland was no longer Poland
  3. Because Israel was not what she lived for
  4. My uncle Abram, who I never met
  5. My aunt Mania, who married Uncle Morry in a double wedding with my grandparents
  6. My uncle Sam, whose blue eyes were the same blue eyes as my grandfather’s
  7. Because sometimes it is necessary to cross an ocean

And you?

Why are you from where you are from?

Do you see it too?

Version 2

Sometimes I walk too fast. I get caught up in where I’m going. Or just the motion of it. I get distracted by kilometers and minutes. I listen to music. I listen to podcasts. I have imaginary conversations.

Sometimes I remember that I live in a beautiful place and that I probably won’t live here forever. I look at the mountains and the creek. This foreign landscape. I look at the trees. So many of them still ripped open from the flood two years ago. There is one tree that nearly always pulls me out of distraction. Bent like a twig. It is so broken and so beautiful.

The landscape has changed in the last six months. Things are not where they used to be. The stove, for example, is no longer rusting in the creek bed.

And then this. I saw it and kept walking. I stopped and turned around. The natural world plus pen. A way of becoming. Or seeing what is already there.

What to do

to do list

I like a to do list. I have been accused of being overly attentive to the ‘do’ part, and underly attentive to the ‘to’ part. That is, I like to cross things off. I like the do to be done.

There have been a lot of to do lists this month. And they’re pretty much done, so that’s good. Most of the lists have been for jobs, editing and writing projects. Which is great. That’s the rent paid. Good job.

Today, I decided to make a writing to do list. I’m kind of cheating because ‘sonnet’ is on the list every day, but what the hell, I did it. And I like to cross things off.

What the sky says

cloud speech bubble

I have been wondering what to say. Here and elsewhere.

I have been wondering what the next book is.

I have been playing with walls and stars.

I have been thinking about poems and novels.

I want to talk about memory and imagination. Mine are unreliable, mine are intertwined.

I do a lot of listening when I walk. Sometimes I forget to look.

Today, as we were leaving the Teahouse, Bhanu found this cloud speech bubble.

Is it the sky talking? The other cloud? Is it the tree?

There are so many things I want to tell you. Not all of them are true.