Good lord I'm up late. I blame the road buzz. Traveling always messes with my ability to get some sleep. Like my car was traveling 80, but my chi was only traveling 9 mph, so I'm still in journey mode. Or something. What? Reaching?
So, great to be back (though loved the away time, too). I missed everyone and it was so nice to be welcomed back so warmly.
Meanwhile. I love serendipity. I just checked my other email address, the one that is being phased out. And this is what was waiting for me:
Wake Up; Time to Die
There will be a moment
When I realize it’s time to die.
This thought occurred sitting
At the kitchen table,
Having eaten cow,
And the wind came up
In a gust, blowing through
The open window.
I saw the clouds
and the sun outside.
The experience was of a piece
Like a twenty year old snapshot.
It was prophetic, like the
Time you didn’t get on the airplane
And met someone you wouldn’t have met…
Went somewhere you wouldn’t have gone.
There’s no analysis in this. It is what is.
It is the senses opening to the magic,
Suddenly, without thinking.
Magic is only knowing what time it is.
— John Tischer
9/9/04
Another favorite Tischer poem is here.
Showing posts with label traveling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label traveling. Show all posts
Friday, September 10, 2004
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
ventura highway
Yesterday I drove home, zipping up the 405 to the 101. I left without breakfast and I don't know what I was thinking. I guess that I wasn't hungry. But around Thousand Oaks hunger pains hit and my head was getting fuzzy and all I know was that I. Needed. To. Eat. Now. (I mean Then.). So I stopped in TO, but the place was a mad house (it was about 12:15). And so I thought I would just stop off a bit further up the road and then somehow I didn't get off the freeway til I hit Ventura.
I never stop in Ventura. I mean, not a real stop. I'll stop for gas. I'll make a pit stop. But it's never like a get-out- of-the- car and-really -rest stop. Til yesterday.
Ventura is awesome. I got a great cup of coffee. I got a little sandwich. I relaxed in the sun. Driving back to the freeway I totally passed this park that I had been in years and years before and so I stopped and just soaked in the sun and wrote in my journal. Great way to break up a long drive.
My friend Steve M. made me a MMW starter kit a coupla years ago (wait. last year?). MMW's been a little tough for me to take and he said, no, no, I'll show you. So he went to work on a mix CD ... like kindergartening me up the MMW foodchain. So MMW and then Gillian Welch (gah over My First Lover and Elvis Presley Blues — love those songs) sang be back home.
I never stop in Ventura. I mean, not a real stop. I'll stop for gas. I'll make a pit stop. But it's never like a get-out- of-the- car and-really -rest stop. Til yesterday.
Ventura is awesome. I got a great cup of coffee. I got a little sandwich. I relaxed in the sun. Driving back to the freeway I totally passed this park that I had been in years and years before and so I stopped and just soaked in the sun and wrote in my journal. Great way to break up a long drive.
My friend Steve M. made me a MMW starter kit a coupla years ago (wait. last year?). MMW's been a little tough for me to take and he said, no, no, I'll show you. So he went to work on a mix CD ... like kindergartening me up the MMW foodchain. So MMW and then Gillian Welch (gah over My First Lover and Elvis Presley Blues — love those songs) sang be back home.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
snippets from safford
yesterday we went to watch my cousin solomon play basketball.
solomon is eleven. his team is a bunch of fifth and sixth graders; i think they broke my heart. so damn cute. the tall skinny lanky gangly ones. the short little sprouts. the thick and burly ones who can't help but tackle those they are guarding. by the end of the game i'd nicknamed three of them: scrappy (the shortest guy with the quickest hustle), scrappy two (knocking people down, knocking himself down, bouncing up and running back to the ball so cute), and fancy pants. i'm sure fancy pants would love to know that he is called fancy pants. someone should write that on his locker.
it would be great to see these kids playing their senior year of high school and think back to their earnestness and latent talent of 2004. the team lost in the last minute and a half to the free throw line. and that sucks, but also tells me that they were trying that much harder to stop the opposing team. enthusiastic fouling. fouling with the best intentions.
note to bmac: i'm in arizona. who did you hire and for what? we gotta talk. how annoying are internet messages for blog readers? ;) i'm back in cali sometime midweek.
solomon is eleven. his team is a bunch of fifth and sixth graders; i think they broke my heart. so damn cute. the tall skinny lanky gangly ones. the short little sprouts. the thick and burly ones who can't help but tackle those they are guarding. by the end of the game i'd nicknamed three of them: scrappy (the shortest guy with the quickest hustle), scrappy two (knocking people down, knocking himself down, bouncing up and running back to the ball so cute), and fancy pants. i'm sure fancy pants would love to know that he is called fancy pants. someone should write that on his locker.
it would be great to see these kids playing their senior year of high school and think back to their earnestness and latent talent of 2004. the team lost in the last minute and a half to the free throw line. and that sucks, but also tells me that they were trying that much harder to stop the opposing team. enthusiastic fouling. fouling with the best intentions.
note to bmac: i'm in arizona. who did you hire and for what? we gotta talk. how annoying are internet messages for blog readers? ;) i'm back in cali sometime midweek.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
speedin' on down the 405
there's a little story my parents love to tell about me packing to spend a summer with my grandparents in arizona. i don't know what my mom was thinking when she let me do all the packing by myself (cuz i was five)(mom, is this story true?), but lore has it that when i arrived in Hot & Arid, that all i had was a suitcase full of books. (i'm pretty sure this story is true).
to this day i still do it. and when i say to this day, i do indeed mean this day. i'm writing from southern california, having zipped on down the coast just a few hours ago. starting tomorrow my dad and i are heading east east east for a quick five- or six-day trip into the great land of amazing shades of tan and olive. and i just unpacked a few things, getting ready for bed and all and i thought, good lord what in the world is making this side of the bag so dang darn heavy?!
five books and two journals.
(and i only packed six hours ago, so you'd think i would remember.).
and i'm thinking about getting a sixth because (this is where i lose all credibility, you roll your eyes and move on to the next blog on your list of clicks) oprah (yeah, i know, i told you) named one hundred years of solitude (oh shoot, or was it love in the time of cholera) as the book of the month. and i've tried. lord knows i have tried to get through a marquez book and i have failed. failed like a lame-ass, good-for-nothing, no-reading, trash-talking, trailer-parkin', montel-watching, republican-voting, english-minor wannabe. but, i'm ready to give it another go and jump in and make myself read it. and i will like it.
but back to packing. i'm going to tell you why i am a lousy packer and it is not the obvious answer of "because you pack at the last minute." yeah, i do pack at the last minute, but after living with and/or near my family for well over 30 years now, i've noticed that they do it too and have decided it's just genetics doing its thing.
but, how i suck is, i seem to only pack for the weather i am currently experiencing ("weather" can also include current inside temperature.). i knew it was supposed to rain in arizona. i got on the internet. i checked it out (mid 50s and wet). yet, i could not bring myself to pack a sweater or even a long sleeved shirt. okay. at the last minute i threw a long-sleeved shirt in, but only because i thought i needed an extra clothing option. it was a beautiful day today. and warm. and lovely. and i just couldn't get in the winter mood.
okay. now you can roll your eyes and click on to the next blog. good grief. long drives leave me chatty. carry on.
to this day i still do it. and when i say to this day, i do indeed mean this day. i'm writing from southern california, having zipped on down the coast just a few hours ago. starting tomorrow my dad and i are heading east east east for a quick five- or six-day trip into the great land of amazing shades of tan and olive. and i just unpacked a few things, getting ready for bed and all and i thought, good lord what in the world is making this side of the bag so dang darn heavy?!
five books and two journals.
(and i only packed six hours ago, so you'd think i would remember.).
and i'm thinking about getting a sixth because (this is where i lose all credibility, you roll your eyes and move on to the next blog on your list of clicks) oprah (yeah, i know, i told you) named one hundred years of solitude (oh shoot, or was it love in the time of cholera) as the book of the month. and i've tried. lord knows i have tried to get through a marquez book and i have failed. failed like a lame-ass, good-for-nothing, no-reading, trash-talking, trailer-parkin', montel-watching, republican-voting, english-minor wannabe. but, i'm ready to give it another go and jump in and make myself read it. and i will like it.
but back to packing. i'm going to tell you why i am a lousy packer and it is not the obvious answer of "because you pack at the last minute." yeah, i do pack at the last minute, but after living with and/or near my family for well over 30 years now, i've noticed that they do it too and have decided it's just genetics doing its thing.
but, how i suck is, i seem to only pack for the weather i am currently experiencing ("weather" can also include current inside temperature.). i knew it was supposed to rain in arizona. i got on the internet. i checked it out (mid 50s and wet). yet, i could not bring myself to pack a sweater or even a long sleeved shirt. okay. at the last minute i threw a long-sleeved shirt in, but only because i thought i needed an extra clothing option. it was a beautiful day today. and warm. and lovely. and i just couldn't get in the winter mood.
okay. now you can roll your eyes and click on to the next blog. good grief. long drives leave me chatty. carry on.
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