the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
ragged snatches ~ August 26, 2003 - 12:20 a.m. it's been hard to write, and I don't know why. too much or not enough to say. I don't know which. I've been really internal lately. I generally am, but when I'm staying alone in a place where all my needs are met and I have no particular responsibilities... I spin my own world around me. I've been spending a lot of time neither here nor there. I flash from time to time on ragged snatches of my life in lao. full-on sense memories, bits and pieces. the taste of a mangosteen bursting on the tongue. the smell of talat khua din. the sound of the rain on my tin roof. the feel of the night breeze in my hair, riding recklessly fast and helmetless down the road because I was angry at noy and something in my ribcage wanted to burst free. noy. brown and sleek and laughing. my girl is a freak girl. rubbing the tips of two fingers against my third eye, his gesture of affection. I still speak lao. walking around the house, standing in the shower, I practice words and phrases. koy bow hoo, I don't know, koy bow cowchai, I don't understand, anee men tow die? how much is this? soam nam nah, serves you right. koy hak chao, I love you. it's not that I'm in love with a person, or even a country, but just that that time was so rich with new experiences, I keep rolling them on the tongue of my heart, savoring their flavors and softness and sharpness and heartache before their intensity fades. even though I know that, somewhere inside of me, it never really does. I can still feel, in bits and snatches, what it was to be 19, to be 15, to be 6, to be 3. and I'm beginning to be astonished by all the different times and places and ways I've lived. each distinct, intense, delicious and painful in their own ways. this life of mine, so filled with experiences it will take the rest of this lifetime to even begin to understand. sometimes, walking down the street, I forget what city I'm in. sometimes I wake up and don't know where I am. it's been so long since I've stopped moving for any real length of time. this is my work, this is my path, these are the wild and lovely roads my heart leads me down. strangely, though, I am feeling pretty grounded. when I landed, I wasn't. my fire family brought me home, and then ariana and andre gave me refuge to rest and heal. and I am, healing. I feel better all the time. hard as it was to leave lao, I know that it was time. I also know that I'll go back, when the time is right for that. but for now, I am here. and tomorrow I go up to work at the strawberry music festival. part of my california world, with its own history, its own memories, its own moments of wild magic. this is where I am. right. now.
(((rings))) |