arcade fire

i returned to the gorge this friday for the first time since seeing radiohead there in june of 2001. that was a show that was so perfect i've been trying to reproduce the experience ever since and never quite hit the mark, even when it's my musical hero, thom yorke {almost always when it's thom}. and i've seen a lot of good shows: u2, sigur rós, portishead, zoe keating, beirut, andrew bird, the list goes on. even when i am moved, even when it's an immersive experience, there is almost always a feeling of disappointment that it it didn't live up to that one magical show that first blew me away. i've begun to think i just have gotten too old to feel that strongly, or perhaps the show i remember didn't actually happen as i'd preserved it and over the years i've quietly questioned my memory of its beauty.

and a decade goes by. and a few more years, and then arcade fire made their announcement and though i've never followed them closely, i knew i needed to be there. i knew it would be a solid show, epic even, but they surprised me with one of the best shows i've seen. only one or two have ever come close to the emotional notch that the first radiohead show set for me and this unquestionably did. i can give the gorge its credit for being the best venue i've experienced, but there was something about the surprise of the night that was part of the magic. 

i ddn't know the name of the lead singer, each and every one of the song names, or even a good portion of the lyrics. i just took it as it came, slipping under the pressure of my usual expectations and instead i found myself arrested in ecstatic time – a state of being that suspended me in each moment as it arrived, then up and against and into each of the subsequent moments as they rushed toward me. note after note. song after song. i was gently locked in a state of grace. there was nothing spared for distraction beyond the present: the hands on my back drumming a shared passion, moving to the sway and pulse around the two of us. enthusiastic hugs. shared smiles. dancing together. this is joy.

and the music kept coming, these songs that stretched beyond the setting sun in the distance, filling the canyons of the columbia river, and passing beyond sight and feeling into the realm of anthems. yes, anthems. nothing short will give them credit for the expansiveness of their music played live, something i have only felt from a few of their recorded songs. 

between the click of the light and the start of the dream...they took up the all the space between the crowd. and it was there something shifted. held firmly in the present and on all sides by the music, i felt immobilized amid the flotsam of my self, feeling everything as a reflection of my fear, my joy, my hope and grief. and i have never cried so much in all the other shows i've seen combined. can we work it out? scream and shout till we work it out. and the mirrors kept coming. song after song. confetti shooting everywhere, catching in my dress, my hair, filling my eyes, drying the last of my tears. not even sure anymore why they ever were falling. children wake up/hold your mistake up/before they turn the summer into dust. we are here at the end. the crowd singing along. the chorus. the finale. they conducted us in those final notes, asking us to sing them off stage. my gratitude in each note of wake up. too full to even wish for more.

and only then did i realize i didn't take a single photo. my phone had been in a pocket behind me, but i needed something from the night. something more than a handful of confetti. something to hold on to later if i ever asked myself if the mirrors were really that good. a set list felt right but we were a little ways from the front. we waded through some listless fans and a few enthusiasts keeping up the melody long after the band left and we made it to the rail as the first few set lists were given away. 13 band members. i always get one when i set out to get it.

but i always seemed to be on the wrong side of the stage. the lists and crowds were diminishing. i almost walked away twice. kept returning. my vision was clear. i walked up to center stage in the middle of a conversation about one of the first set lists accidentally dropped between the rail and the platform. i could see it there, about a foot beyond reach, the security guard warning us not to climb over the fence. i couldn't leave it while i was so close and a few minutes later after i almost left a third time, one of the crew walked past handing out one of the last lists off to my right and i took the moment he paused to say excuse me, sir, do you mind getting the one that fell, please? surprisingly, and he wasn't too busy to kneel down, reach into the space, stretch that little bit farther. he picked out my hands from the others that suddenly appeared, a wad of gaffer tape and song names, mine.

we walked out, a little quiet, a little raw, more than a little grateful for the dark stretch of the columbia river gorge that was no longer visible even in the nearly full moon, and already this is one of those moments i plot on a map of my life: august 9th, 2014 -- george, wa, the gorge, 15 feet from the font of the stage -- this two hour span of lights and musicians and sound held me down and made me listen to everything all at the same time reminding me i feel strongly, love deeply, remember clearly, and i'm not chasing rainbows. 

with my lightning bolts a glowing/i can see where i am going/better look out below!

atoms for peace

atoms for peace - thom yorke

no more going to the dark side with your flying saucer eyes
no more falling down a wormhole that i have to pull you out

the wriggling, squiggling worm inside
devours from the inside out

no more talk about the old days
it's time for something great

i want you to get out
and make it work

so many lies
so many lies
so many lies
so feel the love come off of them
and take me in your arms

peel all of your layers off
i want to eat your artichoke heart

no more leaky holes in your brain
and no false starts

i wanna get out
and make it work

so many lies
so many lies
so many lies
so feel the love come off of them
and take me in your arms

i wanna get out
and make it work

i want you to get out
and make it work

i'll be ok

so many lies
so many lies
so many lies
so feel the love come off of them
and take me in your arms

give up the ghost

i give up. but all i feel like i'm giving up is the ghost of an insubstantial thing i have tried so hard to breathe life into.

at times i admit, i failed. my grip tightened, the gentle stirrings crushed, but trust me when i say it took every ounce of concentration to loosen the vice of my scared fingers that were holding on to something,  anything, to safety. but i have learned, please believe me, i have, and i have leaned closer to that gentle balance than i ever have managed before. it wasn't easy. it never is when you are pushing at the boundaries of oneself. and these weren't easy lines i trenched. the deepest running, the truest cutting.

yes, i have learned a lot.

but i give up.

tonight.

now.

i think i should give up the ghost in your arms.


i give up the ghost of my own fears, the ghost of my restless patience, the ghost of my silence. and i have no idea what is on the other side, but the line was crossed and finally i am pushed to find out why and ask if i am getting anywhere in the process.


.............................................

thank you, thom, this song will serenade me my luck. one of the sleeper songs of radiohead's newest album. i saw it saw performed once two years ago in new york city...i didn't realize it would hit so hard this tour but it always found its way through to the tender spots that were already showing.

don't hurt me.
don't haunt me.

3/3

as it is past midnight, later today i'll be seeing radiohead for the third and final time of this tour. it's going to be good night, i already know and special in a way i can't foresee. i'm not sure how to explain it beyond that and there is no reason for my premonition beyond a calm certainty i felt pretty strongly while traveling to see the first two shows. seattle will be the crowning delight. seattle will be a special show. 

so here i am: overdue for sleep and with an alarm set to blast an hour or three before my body would prefer, but it's going to be a good day in line. even a bit of good weather i see. and i am ready for the ride that will be tomorrow's show.

i'm bringing a friend who wasn't seen them before. in fact, this is the friend i made at bon iver back in september, and as you can see from the post script of that entry, i knew it was only a matter of time before we saw radiohead together.


and putting a few things into words tonight, i realized a big piece of how i experience radiohead live is centered around the fact that even though i am loving every minute of the concert, carried away by the life and energy of it all, that the experience is laced with a slow and steady heartache that i was not chosen to be the kind of conduit thom yorke is. i will not move people in the way he does with such searing truth and in such great numbers. i lack that genius. i lack that focus. i lack something, i know this. we can't all be special. we can't all move the world. but i harbor the desire {not of my own volition for the most part} and i guess what i am facing today {for the 11th time} is a deep disappointment that i won't ever accomplish what he has accomplished even as i sit and watch and love the artist who somehow did get that opportunity and gift.



see you on the other side.

{top photo: from the st. louis show. 

bottom photo by elaine zeman: there i am in the dead 

center of the frame. on the rail at kansas city, rapt}

the last nomadic nights

tonight i sleep in my own bed after 242 nights of being a nomad. that's two and a half times the length i thought this adventure would be. while visiting my friend from college this past week, i was sitting at her dining room table thinking about the changes that have slowly come over me during this time and i was cataloging all the small things like being more open to try new foods and letting go a lot faster when things aren't quite perfect {like that new scrape on the car, the little dent on my new iphone, etc} or being more open and ready for adventures. these are the small things and i know — i know — that these small changes are just facets of all the bigger changes that happened as well.

so, here are the final places i have traveled through and dreamt in these last few weeks between finding my new place and finally being able to move into it.

nights 217 & 218

a last minute petsitting gig while i was housesitting 

in february for my friend in ethiopia.

night 230

after housesitting in february i moved to eden's 

for the last week here before traveling west 

{first night in her bed and the rest in the living room on a grand air mattress}

nights 231 to 234

& 236 {after a night's adventure to vancouver}

the grand air mattress

night 235

in vancouver for a quick trip with my new friend, 

christina to visit an old friend from nine years ago 

 nights 237 & 241

onward to st. louis, radiohead shows and sylwinn's

{the first and last night of the trip to missouri}

night 238

crashing after the first show in st. louis 

with another old friend, cloudie  

nights 239 & 240 

at the aladdin hotel in kansas city, missouri 

for the 2nd radiohead show

back to sylwinn's for one mostly sleepless night. then:

final night: 242. 

a late-night pick-up from the airport. 

a touch delirious but happy to be back 

ending in another restless night struggling to get to sleep. 

movers scheduled to arrive at 9am march 14th, 2012, exactly 8 months after this crazy adventure began.

on the rail

for the first time ever i am waiting for radiohead to play with my length pressed against the rail. its chilly bars will be the only thing between myself and my favorite band.

radiohead, the biggest mirrors in my artistic sky, and i get to experience you front and center.

i am seeing them twice this weekend along with a large number of people i haven't seen in as many as nine years. then i return to seattle to be finally (re)united with my home sweet home.

here i am, on the rail. waiting for great things.

let up & let down

it should be easy to tell you about what happened on my run on friday, but the truth is i've written three complete posts and pitched them all out. too wordy. trying to connect the dots and spell e v e r y t h i n g out for you to understand. but what i experienced was, at the heart of it, very simple.

it started about 2 miles in the run: this realization that i'm fighting against my lack of endurance and how it makes my runs less fun and me more judgmental. but i quickly realized that i just need to suck it up and run because that's the only way i'm going to get to the other side. additionally {i told myself}, the place i am at physically right now doesn't negate the strength i was so joyfully celebrating last month. and while it's also been a bumpy ride emotionally this month, it's not something that threatens the resilience and courage i've been celebrating in myself recently. this is just a month out of my life and a stepping stone in the right direction, no matter how uncomfortable it is at the time.

but about a mile or so later, i felt my heart open up to accept this truth that the mind had claimed. embrace it with welcoming arms and a tender spirit: i am here. right now. in this place of both physical and emotional rebuilding. and this past month, on both levels, has been exposing raw nerves and inflamed ligaments. rehabilitating these lingering injuries of the body and spirit. and in the length of a city block, the heart felt for these things, but also brought along a feeling of hope for the future that this work is helping me prepare for.

so in this moment, i could accept this month as just a piece of the puzzle and a necessary phase to get where i want to go.

but it didn't stop there.

a mile or two later, running along the backside of a cemetery, the song let down {yes, radiohead} came up on shuffle. the first half of the song, with true radiohead spirit, so beautifully acknowledged the disappointments of life: being crushed to the ground and let down as only thom can sing about. but as the final verse crescendoed through my earphones, it delivered with it an image i couldn't close my eyes against. i saw, in sync with the rush of sound and energy of the music, two iridescent waves curling toward each other in front of me, colliding, and flowing quickly toward me in their warm, golden glory. and suddenly, my body had this expansive sense of not only running in this finite moment of time, but also on the greater path of my life, forward toward my future that was rushing enthusiastically to meet me. and what an exciting future those waves seemed to represent.

i had to close my eyes it was almost too much. overwhelming and beautiful as only sudden truths can be.

and sitting here, writing about it, my heart breaks for moments like these when i feel far away from where i want to go, disappointed and disconnected from things that are important to me. afraid of them even. afraid of doing the wrong thing. saying the wrong thing. asking too much. not asking enough. what if what i envision for myself is too beautiful to happen in this world? there are days when i feel powerless. powerless because i'm not sure if i will ever hear back, because i miscalculated taxes and owe over $1,000 that i would rather spend on other things, and powerless because i'm still to scared to even prepare for an audition.

and yet, it's there. these moments of acceptance like the one from my run. tangible enough to be accessible whenever i sit in my inner stillness and relive the moment or replay the song and hear him travel through his own doubts to find his way to sing so appropriately to me:

you know, you know where you are with

you know where you are with

floor collapsing, falling, bouncing back

and one day, i am gonna grow wings

a chemical reaction {you know where you are}...

so, for tonight, tomorrow and the next day and countless after, it's just important for me to keep putting one step in front of the other, one recovery run after the other, one disappointment after the next, however many it takes for me to get where i am going. because i do know where i am. i know it. i know it. i know it. and one day, i am going to grow wings.

..........................................................................................

here is the song let down. the verse i was referring to starts at 3:40

the king of limbs

on every album there are the songs i get right away and then those that need to steep a while. it took me until the second live show to get bodysnatchers from their last album and the second night of thom's new york city shows to get the hollowed earth and being pulled apart by horses. this doesn't bother me. it's just a result of how dissonant and dynamic their range can be.

this album is no different, though i can't tell what i am or am not able to absorb because of a meager 4 hours of sleep last night.

what i am clear on is my reaction to track #6. the opening notes. the simple pulse of the piano. my response swelling up from nowhere i can account for. i had to pull over and sob for most of my first listen, then sit, the track on repeat, in a still car and under a full moon for another four or five repetitions.*

thom. you've done it again.


i am grateful and no, i don't think it's over yet.

codex

sleight of hand
jump off the end
into a clear lake
no one around
just dragonflies
fantasize
no one gets hurt
you don't know
what's wrong**

slide your hand
jump off the end
the water's clear
and innocent
the water's clear
and innocent

*for the record, i've never had this response to any song. ever. particularly on a first listen.
**not quite sure of this lyric.

oh what a day...

...and it's only 9am.

it started at 6. restless again. toss. turn. realize i wasn't going to sleep, so i may as well go read that email you sent me. except how did i know it was going to be there, sitting calmly amongst groupons and facebook comments? i didn't. and yet i did – for the second time this week.

an email was returned while my enthusiasm ensued.

too much to go back to sleep. so i started my day an hour and a half early, using that extra time to make my bed, cook a real breakfast complete with a big mug of tea and finally watch this TED talk that i've been meaning to see for over a month. one that affirms that the way i live, walking the ways of vulnerability and authenticity, stating that i might just be on to something even as crazy as i think others see me as sometimes. it's the only way i can live and here i'm told it might just be a good way. {see for yourself below}

next, {and now, this is a big next} i see the fact that radiohead released their newest album a day early.

my god.

my dear dear dear god.

i've downloaded it, but refuse to listen to it until i have the proper space to do so. and for now, it's sitting out in front of me side by side with a skype call i hope happens soon.

vulnerability. glorious, raw and beautiful vulnerability. how you call me forward into the life i want to lead.

all that rises must converge

convergence.
a word running through my life these past two days.
and i'm not sure exactly how to lay out all the vectors arriving
from different times and appearing, suddenly, unexpectedly
all within days or even minutes of each other.
everything is just happening so quickly.
staccato notes.
crescendo.
cymbal rush.
but i am here
and i already know that this new radiohead album
{only one of the four significant things coming suddenly into my life this week}
will mark a new time period in my life.
my heart is open, ready and full.
and i can hardly wait.

#8

i sent the first email in the wake of seeing thom last spring. put into words something surprising and tender. something i was so grateful to the universe for giving me when i hadn't even thought to ask. but the silence that was returned was puzzling. i had been so certain we had been reading from the same page, so where did our stories split?

i agitated {gently} as i always do. worried and second guessed, and was finally given the wise words: if he's important, he isn't far.

almost a year later now, each simultaneously nudging a mutual friend to do something we both knew we should just ask for ourselves, friends and facebook have come through for us and here we are: in connection. just as we ought to be.

finally, radiohead friend #8 has joined the family stepping into a comfortable spot that i didn't even realize i was still keeping warm for him.


1. mike
2. jason
3. chris
4. jim
5. steve
6. lauren
7. matt
8. shervin
9. kevin


currently listening to: the light - the album leaf

notes from the studio

after a holiday, sickness and then heartache hiatus, i am finally back to the easel. lately i have been haunted by thom yorke dreams where he's inaccessible or avoiding me, which is a sure sign i am neglecting my generative self.

i worked on two separate commissions and then rotated through a few for myself, including this one. it's from an image taken by my fellow sun/sky photographer, cameron, and i am excited for how it's coming along.

{dimensions: 3'x4'}

a return

it should come as no surprise that he came to me, but it was, even though i should know that he always returns when i do.*

............................................................
............................................................

last night, i flipped a bird to my dirty dishes i need to wash, my checkbook i need to balance, my bills i need to pay, my neat piles of laundry that need to be hand-washed, mended or ironed, and even the next chapter of the artist's way that i need to read; all insulted in order that i could paint. it's been a while since my creative self has been used. maxed out in the wake of creating and distributing a wide scale {for me} collaborative project {yes, i think just about everyone's received their envelope finally, so i'll announce the details soon}, i went dormant for a while. hibernating in extended phone calls and novel-length text messages to the friend i announced meeting on the same day the first envelope was returned {see here if you've forgotten}.

and what a lovely return it was. one that no matter how many times i make it, it never ceases to surprise me how effortless it is to be alive in creative spaces. and alive in a way that only today, i was able to articulate that is not possession of creativity, or my ability to create, but merely in a state of perpetual wardenship to this force that i present myself to and it passes through me, bypassing all conscious decision-making skills and dialoging only with a set of pre-verbal instincts that are crystal clear in their process from intention to manifestation, even if they don't let me in on the process. the painting last night happened and suddenly i'm ready to place the finishing touches on it and how did i even get there? it was thrilling.

and so, last night, as my reward, or rather as proof of reuniting me with my creative self, thom yorke paid a visit. it was backstage after a concert and somehow i was there slightly on the sly. i was hoping no one would notice and kick me out. he was taking care of post-show business including signing stacks of posters fans had put out for him to autograph. i had slipped a few into the stack and he asked me to help him pick out which ones to sign. i noticed he had already selected mine and somewhat flattered, i had gone through the stack picking out the most interesting looking posters {one from the bends, one from hail to the thief, etc. it was this quiet bonding time that was interrupted when others joined us. there was talk of future concerts and he invited another person present {randomly i think it was someone i knew from highschool} who had been helping him to come backstage the next time he was in seattle. my reaction of shock and awe was such that he turned to me and included me in the invitation. that somehow opened a door between us and suddenly we're talking about the spring tour, coachella, the magic of the 2nd new york city show and i saw that he got it. he got me. i wasn't shy or nervous, i just was, and he appreciated it. and when they asked him who he'd like to drive him back to the hotel, he gestured to me and said her and i realized he didn't even know my name yet, which was fine, he would.

there was more, and i woke up after and had the sudden mid-night-mid-morning-too-early urge to get up and write it all down, because this was the closest we have ever been and it was a relief.



*again, i feel i should repeat in case the reader forgets, i know that thom yorke in my dreams is not about the man, thom yorke, but the idea of the penultimate artist that he represents.

currently listening to: fog - radiohead

more dreams

my life came to an important moment of self-questioning last night and that question is: what part of me is getting in the way of me pursuing acting as a way of life?

i had just read week 7's chapter in the artist's way {which deserves an entry in itself} and as little as i've been working on this specific aspect of my artistic blockage, this entire chapter pointed to my un-aired desire to create and tell stories with my body, my spirit, my voice, my presence. not objects that i create, not even words, but myself. here. there. now. and tomorrow and tomorrow. as wonderfully and tragically flawed as i am at every given moment.

so last night i put down my to-do list, and even put down the never-ending work projects that i can't even seem to successfully chip away at, and i drew up a bath, lit one candle and soaked.

and as i rested there in the heat and dark, i drew into my body these questions i've been pushing away for years, or looking at aggressivly and saying not just yet. or there's not enough. or i'm not enough. and i voiced the question again and again: what part of me is getting in the way of my pursuit of acting?

i went to sleep an hour or so later, the question still on repeat in my head. and this is what i saw:

thom yorke* was touring and the tour was coming up. looming. soon. i felt it. expected it. anticipated it. but the dates hadn't been announced, preparations were still being made. and that was it. my anticipation and this awareness of a vast machine of details coming together in the distance. all the things to be organized, decided, all the people in motion to bring his work to us and to me.

and for the first time i am in touch with a feeling of hope that is starting to eclipse my feeling of failure and paralysis that has kept me here for years. decades even. right inside the scary brink of even venturing out and risking.



*i repeat here again how thom, the lead singer from radiohead, and by far my favorite artist appears in dreams as a symbol for the art i dream to make. the authenticity. the intensity. the honesty about the whole heartbreakingly beautiful spectrum of human existence and beyond. and interestingly enough, i see the path i have to travel to make the art i want to put forth into this world as running parallel, if not superimposed on the path i travel to be in the life-long relation/partnership i envision for myself. it's the same confidence, the same groundedness in spirit and body that is required to enter both authentically. and, the relevance between this belief and this post is that recently i've worked through both themes with dreams about concerts. but distinctly thom and not-thom concerts. the mind is a wonderous thing, no?

how to disappear completely

i'm actually a bad one to give advice on disappearing
because my failure is showing up
repeatedly
and asking you to do the same.
but always just in time to watch your charade slink away into
nothing.
i'll keep quiet, i promise
the shame of your hasty retreat just another
and another
and another
to the list.
but don't try and convince me for a second
that something didn't change.
i've been sold that evasion too many times before.
though still not cautious,
at least i trust my instincts this time
so now the only thing i have left to hold
is gratitude that i now have the strength
to do the thing i should have done a long time ago.

..............................................................................................................

how to disappear completely - radiohead

{at one point thom said that this was the most beautiful thing that they had ever written. wonder if that's still true.}

that there
that's not me
i go
where i please
i walk through walls
i float down the liffey
i'm not here
this isn't happening
i'm not here
i'm not here

in a little while
i'll be gone
the moment's already passed
yeah it's gone
and i'm not here
this isn't happening
i'm not here
i'm not here

strobe lights and blown speakers
fireworks and hurricanes
i'm not here
this isn't happening
i'm not here
i'm not here

last flowers to the hospital

happy birthday thom {though it's officially the 8th right now, i haven't gone to sleep, so it's still the 7th in my universe}

..........................................................................

and this is from me to you:




appliances have gone berserk
i cannot keep up
treading on people's toes
snot-nosed little punk

and i can't face the evening straight
and you can't offer me escape
houses move and houses speak
if you take me there you'll get relief
relief, relief, relief, relief...

and if i'm gonna talk
i just wanna talk
please don't interrupt
just sit back and listen

cause i can't face the evening straight
and you can't offer me escape
houses move and houses speak
if you take me there you'll get relief
relief, relief, relief, relief...

it's too much
too bright
too powerful

too much
too bright
too powerful

too much
too bright
too powerful

too much

facelift

hello my lovely readers. i just wanted to take a moment to inform you that in the past month or so i've realized that there are far more of you than i thought. somehow it's taken me a while to sink in that it's not just my mom and five of my friends {on a good day, and on a bad day just my mom} keeping tabs on what i write. so, with that in mind, as i head toward my 600th post, i am starting to take myself a little more seriously and give the site a long overdue face lift {suggestions from my design friends are more than welcome!}.

the current title image is temporary, but moving in the right direction, and i've also added a note to you all {yes, you} along the side. let me repeat here that i do, in fact, welcome your voice here whether it's just "hi, i'm stopping in" or "that reminds me of..." or "you know, i really don't have much to say to that, but {insert one or two words here...they can be expletives}." i know that these all post on facebook, which is a nice reminder to pop over and read, but if you could remember to leave comments here rather than on facebook, it keeps things a little more centralized {though don't let that get in the way of commenting at all}.

i am honored and grateful to know that so many folks from my past and present {all of whom i admire for their intelligence and discernment} choose to come back and read more. perhaps only in hopes that maybe it won't be about that band or that funny spelling thom man, but hey, i am still grateful no matter what the cause.

so thanks. again and again, thanks.

a placeholder

for all the things i've been meaning to write about:

thom yorke.
thom yorke.
thom yorke.
siff (and edward norton)
my apartment search.
imogen heap, who is the most charming person i've ever seen and i got to watch her perform for 2 1/2 hours this past monday. yipee.
my crazy notenoughbreathingroom life.
the new vet art seattle retreat in early august.
making art. hopefully.

and that's it. thanks for your patience. in the meantime, i'll leave you with a little clip from monday's show. she spent 10 minutes getting a key signature and melody from the crowd then improvising a song for us on the spot. the song will be available for purchase in the next few days and all the money will go directly to a non-profit that the seattle fans selected.

she's turning into another hero of mine. :)



mom, you can see it here.


currently listening to: imogen heap these days. it took me a while to get into her music having only known the popular hide and seek and her frou frou work like let go (think garden state), but after seeing her live i get it completely now.

a sunny drive + a good song

also available by clicking here.

thom yorke dreams {pt. 2}

somewhere around 4am last night, i was sitting in a hot tub with two of my coachella clan,
and one of them asked me what i would say to thom if i ever met him.
it was a good question.
and one i only had a brief response to:
i would look him in the eyes and thank him.
thank him for being a conduit.
thank him for providing over a decade of resonance for me.
just thank him.

then last night, i had probably the most intimate dream of him yet.

it was post show, coachella, but somehow we were in new york city out in central park.
night time.
i walked up to him
and just like that, he looked all the way through me and asked me: what do you want?
but not as hey stranger, what do you want? but nathania, dear, what do YOU want? from me? from life? from yourself?
and i don't know what my answer was, but it seemed to be bigger and denser than my dreamself could fathom.
and i didn't need to search for it because it was there, ready, waiting
and it filled me up.

then he asked "will you walk with me?"
and i said YES with all my heart
but without having to say a word.

i got my walk.
and i even feel like i got many more.





it's only a matter of time now.