Mindy Gledhill - Anchor

Came across this song on a random blog the other day. I heard it/watched the video ages ago when I found a newspaper article about Mindy.
The first time I watched it, I was terribly inspired to go around wearing dress-up wings all the time, but that never happened, *snerk* I did once, though; I found a pair of old wings I made for a Halloween costume then handed down to my little sister and just wore them one day. Can't remember whether that was before or after I saw this music video though...

You know how kids will go around wearing the funniest things in public, like tiaras, spiderman costumes, fairy wings and capes? I think that'd be kinda fun, just whenever you feel like it, pretending to be someone else, or perhaps, becoming a truer self. Why be so boring and normal all of the time? 

October Fly on the Porch

Oh look at how beautiful they all are,
why come down when I can watch, detached,
unobserved and alone.
But they're absolutely lovely, and yeah, I want to be them-
all and everything,
And here I am,
watching,
seeing,
Wrapping my heart around them,
wings behind my ears like fingers and hands.
Wry smile, silly,
Maybe someday I will break in half, I don't know,
I swear I'm not torn,
just a little too expansive sometimes, and terribly ADD.

Dancing Around the Nothing (Not entirely sure I'm all here sometimes, but the funny thing is, that doesn't bother me)

Can I be the water,
or even the wind between my fingers?
Would existence be any easier then?
Not that it's terribly uncomfortable, just,
sometimes it doesn't fit me,
or I don't fit it.

Can I be the rain on my nose,
can I be the breeze skipping through the leaves?
Can I be the ground underneath my feet?
Or perhaps nothing but the motion of
my longboard curving from side to side?
Can I be the sound of life whispering
from every atom of every cell of every stone?
Can I be the act of seeing and doing
purposefully in true faith?
Can I be your voice and your eyes and your hands?

It's just that I kinda want to be everything,
but who's to say I'm not already,
or that I haven't already been many times before,
and that's why it's all here inside of me,
responding to the light of everything outside.

And this is all so very soft, but I don't want to be always or only a jagged edge--
because I'm not.


I imagine that someday it'll all make sense,
it'll all come together,
I'll have the ability to really understand and communicate it all,
I'll finally see the overarching plot to, maybe, everything, but now
I look back, and I can see a series of arches, then to there, then to here, there to here
Beginning, middle, end of something eternally. 

Photo essay of a sort

(Click on the last three to make them bigger. One of these days I'm going to have to figure out how to get a template that's friendlier with photographs...)

Namaste y mae govannen to every and all

• Beauty in everyday life, spontaneous and immediate. If you wait, it will always come, heartbreaking and eye-opening. I am always a little bit less blind than I was before. 
• Yo, my best friend and love.
• My lovely, still growing family.
• Every single one of my siblings, adopted, blood, and soul-relatives.
• All of my friends, which usually translates into siblings.
• Fantastic food and teamwork.
• Snow.
• Music, musicians, and musical instruments. Also, the music of the natural world in all senses.
• Memory. 
• Writing.
• Doctor Who, in all of it's complexity and simplicity, intertwined duality. Funny, beautiful, heartbreaking.
• Enlightenment and transcendence, the unattainable, ever-won quest and weave. 
• Emotion and expression, creativity and god.
• Skin.
• The space between the ears, all at once infinite and perfectly encapsulated. 
• Life, always

Follow the numbers

Looks like somebody got a hold of some chalk... (Not me, I just followed the numbers)

Two-headed Poem

(To explain the title, love, I once read that when writing a poem, it can emerge as two intertwined poems, and you must then work to separate them from each other. I haven't actually experienced this phenomenon much, there have been a couple cases, but this is the first that seemed distinctly so. As it is, I decided that I'd break that rule, I'd let this poem stay siamese-twin, and try to further twist and weave it, and so I did; what you shall read presently, is two-headed, dualistic, two concepts in my head right now that seem to play off of each other, separate but entirely related.)








I.
Mmm,

The complexities of language, 

Crashing waves beneath floating papers, 

Cobwebs and spindly plants.

II.

The refinement of her expressions,

Intricate and infinite; 

A testament that everything communicates; 

It is we who must choose to listen.

III.

Looking beyond, between, underneath, 

All of the winding tendrils around written words, how wondrous, 

More wondrous still, how you can nearly read her thoughts 

from the positioning of her eyebrows and ears. 

IV.

They all have different voices, 

You know, 

Mountain peak and ocean depth, 

Short bark and long drawl, lilting or singsong. 

And their voices are no different, loud quiet infinite--

Like ours 

Character Sketch

He smokes smarties and swears like a sailor.
Dark, dark eyes under a mop of blond hair,
insolent swagger even though he's not yet old enough for a learner's permit.
Thinks he knows all the girls, but they haven't even started looking at him.

Takes pride in petty, childish theft; silly boy, don't you know you won't ever have to grow up?


Even under all of this crustiness, he says please and thank you
with sincere gratitude,
Pure heart under pretentious bluster,
pretty song flowing from a clogged stream bed. 

Perfect Harmony, But I Can't See The Moments They Choose Not To Reveal

Look at them:
they're so pretty.
Seem to know where they're going,
but maybe it's nothing but an oily surface
that reflects back light.

Look at their dance:
intricate and simple steps.
Seem to know what they're doing,
but maybe it's a pattern that's all made up
only in their heads, and maybe that's perfectly wonderful.

Look at them sing:
all the words fit together, rhyme and reason.
Not a note out of place,
but I guess I still haven't learned to properly improvise,
and there is music underneath that which I can hear. 

Seasonal Affective Disorder maybe? But that too would feel like theft and misalignment. None of it matters anyway.

So basically, it feels like almost nothing I'm doing with my life lately is actually getting me anywhere. Don't know where it is I hope to go, exactly, but I'm feeling terribly stagnant and impotent.
I don't feel like I'm really learning anything well.

What do I have to give to people? Life as connection and network; but I don't know how to do that really. I'm not really woven into life, I don't really feel like I fit; I am jangling, dissonant.
I keep skipping days, or rather, living through them as through a dream, something to get me somewhere else I already am. I don't know... Can't really explain. And I guess that's what I figure my purpose is, explain the unexplainable, but does it even matter? Even if it matters not to anyone else, is it enough that it seems to matter to me?
I'm getting nowhere, and yeah, it feels like I ought to be getting somewhere, but I don't know how. I've got suspicions, but not much more than that, and I don't want to look at them too hard.
Trapped and stuck in all of these things I thought I didn't have to deal with anymore, or even yet. Somebody keeps saying that it is so easy to get out of it all, to move past it all, but here I am, futile and strung up.
Maybe I keep looking outside of myself too much, but I learn from the patterns of others. I'm kinda lost, and maybe it's just the weather, but I don't know. I'm so quick to adopt the things in others that I think fit in me, but I still feel like that's a little invalid, a little untrue. I'm so colorless, it seems, but that doesn't sound true either. Looks like I'm looking for truth, even though I thought I'd decided against that long ago. I decided to search for love and compassion rather than truth. Truth is so subjective.
Chasing my own tail and spinning off after the tails of others.
I don't really believe in this world, I guess that's why I don't fit. Where do I fit? It doesn't seem like I really fit here anymore, but even that is transitory.
Nothing's the right color. But that doesn't seem to matter either. I feel so autistic. But nobody believes that either, and probably they're right. Yeah, still stuck halfway between my feelings and others' sayings. So many dang directions...
Isn't it weird that you can live in your own body and head 24 hours a day, and still you don't understand yourself entirely? You don't know where everything inside you comes from or why? But it never works for me to just surf over it all, I have to experience it, dips and crescendos. I'm so torn still, still don't know why. Still don't know why. Thought I was getting closer, and maybe I am, but I really don't know. It's like nothing I do matters, and in one way, I don't care, but in another, it's driving me nuts. Sometimes I wonder if I'm one of those nineteen to twenty-one year olds who's going to spiral off into nothing in a fantastic display of insanity, but even that is nothing but idle curiosity, though I admit I have a morbid and self-effacing side I don't like to indulge often but still it comes up, all self-satisfied and smug every once in a while. Sometimes it's kinda perversely pleasurable to stare into the void, eyes wide and glittering.
Is it possible to be objective about oneself? I guess that's something I'm trying to figure out, but even that annoys my sometimes. I don't like being removed from myself and my feelings. I kinda have a tendency, it seems, to run away from that which makes me uncomfortable, but something always yanks me back, and now I am tiredly resigned to just going through whatever it is I have to.