i already know how it ends

i gave myself permission to desire today.
like sails set to wind, my heart opened up for the space of one city block
unfurled itself
and beat a fluttering rhythm of hope.

through the leaves

the indian summer continues.

trust. pt 2. {i do not trust}

an exercise in purging:

i do not trust myself.*
i do not trust my body.
i do not trust my mind.
i do not trust my heart. my heart. my heart.
i do not trust men. even the most trustworthy of all i have known was subject to inquisitions he never warranted {though i bless him and his confidence in putting up with my fears he didn't help create but had to suffer the consequences of, daily}.
i do not trust money.
i do not trust my art.
i do not trust my instincts.
i do not trust my life.
i do not trust my acting skills.
i do not trust my dreams.
i do not trust my self.
i do not trust my life.
i do not trust my self.
i do not trust my fate.
i do not trust my self.
i do not trust my self.
i do not trust my self.
i do not trust god.


*i should specify that i do in fact have trust for all these things, and in some cases a generous bounty, but i also harbor a nagging lack of trust for the exact same things. ah, the complexities and paradoxes of the human brain.

trust. pt 1.

last week i snapped at my mom. and by snapped, i mean, slammed the caps lock key down on my keyboard and bombarded the online chat we were having with big letters and loud words then abruptly closed my browser window after a hasty and huffy i have to go. good night. neither i nor my high school self i was channeling is proud of this moment*, but i've been mulling over the peace offering my mom sent to me later on that evening {while i was staying up way past my bedtime consoling myself with a rare browse through thom yorke youtube videos. normally watching video of him live is too evocative, to the point of slightly painful, so i just ignore the wealth of amazing videos to be found. that night i was prodding bruises i guess}.

but i digress.

the peace offering was an essay on trust. self trust. and specifically the concept of absolute self trust. unlike a lot of things my mom sends me, i read this one in full {sorry mom, i skim a lot of them....} and have kept it in my inbox to be opened up on occasion. even just a glance at a few sentences gives me strength and allows me live for a few lines in the possibility of absolute trust.

trust in self. absolute trust in myself.

it's a scary thing. terrifying. and one that i so desire to step into but i find that i'm faced with a push/pull between my own sense of mediocrity and safety that battles a deep seated desire for vibrancy and transcendence in my life. but i doubt myself. i doubt. i doubt. and i doubt some more for good measure. and i don't exactly know how to end this parasitic relationship i have with my doubt.

but, even so, i know the words are slowly working their way down my system as i feel the weight of my own inertia suddenly stirring in the forward momentum that i see manifesting in my life.



*in my defense, my mom and i have been working on a new way of communicating, which doesn't involve her getting up on a pulpit and switching to a preaching voice {pulpit=joke, preaching voice=totally serious}. it's been a learning experience for us both and a way for me to connect to her wisdom and care without having to filter out the ego/love-mask/whathaveyou that likes to step in and take over her truth.

10.10.10

i woke up from a vivid dream this morning and one i pray that is prophetic. i was outside in a storm. no shelter. no escape. the storm swooped up quickly, but i still had time to sense its coming and brace myself. dark, murky greys, pale rain pulled by horizontal winds, the storm was epic in scale and i was suspended in the center. waiting. weathering. until the skies parted, the clouds dissolved and i had made it. in remembering back, i am surprised to note that there wasn't any dread of anticipation or relief at being on the other side of it all, just calm acceptance. the storm needed to come, but i always knew it would go again.

looking forward to some sunnier skies.



currently listening to: hoppipolla & glósóli -- sigur rós.

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

saturday sun

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

fall skies

like the season's first scarf, fall is on my skin today
sneaking between my hair and neck
asking me to breathe
and erasing the last traces of the past three nights' bad dreams.

and another...

painting commission! this is my 4th and received without even asking for it. they just come to me after people see my work {shy look just flashed across my face and shoulders}. i need to get my website up. anyone have a design background they'd be willing to trade a spiffy website for a spiffy painting?

anyone have a painting they want to commission? :}

bad habits and heels

a list of tasks from week 3 of the artist's way include listing 5 people you admire. that, for me, is simple.

--meryl streep
--natalie portman
--colin greenwood
--jonsi
--and, of course, our dear friend thom yorke

the list could easily go on for days, but the ah-hah moment came to me when, in class, one of the instructors mentioned the second part of the task that asked you to list 5 people you secretly admire. and the way she described it was think about that person that you like but might be a little naughty for you to admit to admiring. and wham! it hit me just like that. i admire tim curry and his role of dr. frank-n-furter and i admire him a lot. that character, and tim curry within it, owns his sexuality, flaunts it around like he's the cat's meow, has so much fun doing it as ridiculous as he is, and strangely, despite the make-up and camp, ends up being sexy. all that charm and confidence and strut. i really wish i could explain my attraction. i guess it's that girl-envy awe of seeing someone own themselves and wish, truly wish you'd grow up some day to be able to do the same. now, i am not saying i want to cross dress or even be a women of his sort {funny, but true} or for my own version of myself to look in any way like his {no, my taste has not flown from me entirely}, but merely that i want to have the freedom to embrace a role, any which kind of role, both on stage and in real life, and own it without shame.

back when i was submerged in thom yorke this spring {cringe at how overdue that update is}, i had a dream i wrote about here where i was given a role that challenged that fear of being perceived as an attractive & sexual being {and this of course is synonymous as being seen as inadequate, ridiculous & failing miserably at my attempts}. needless to say, i tore down a hall crying in terror at the humiliation. this dream was not very far off from the deep down buried truth of how i see myself and i realize now, today, how much farther i still have to go. i might have my moments where i feel put together or cute, but often it's like that value is only on loan to me and people i wouldn't be attracted to or don't care about their opinion, everyone else is immune and i project on them the thoughts that can and will cut my confidence down.

except on those days when i don the red dress and can look anyone in the eye, i find a few things consistently get in the way but the one that keeps coming back, time after time after time is my height. though i should note that i no longer notice when my friends stand shorter than me, or when i'm the only person standing over a certain height in a group, or if i do, it's a quiet observation, not judgment ridden like it used to be. but as much progress as i've made, it continues to haunt me. the thinking that hangs on, clings to me as much as i put myself in situations to challenge it is that my height is the obvious proof of my inability to do anything but fall short {hardy har} of any standard of beauty others will have. yes, i know models can be 6 feet, but they are string bean slim, graceful and look great even on the frumpiest of days and for starters i know i will never have a slight frame. ever.

okay wait, rather than give in to this voice, or even waste more time articulating it's jabs, all i can do in this moment is pause and ask myself for something new entirely. the whining sentiments i've carried with me since kindergarten are old and worn out. time for a change.

shift in thinking...

so, i have this body, all 72 inches of it, and it's healthy and mine. and that's nothing to be ashamed of. right? right. yes, nathania, right. and, quite frankly, i think i'm a prettier woman than tim curry is* so what exactly is my problem in owning up to my potential? i've made a choice for decades to use my height against me and i guess it's time to choose to use it for me.

now go out there and watch rocky horror again, nat. see it at a big screen theatre in west seattle, and perhaps even don the doctor's heels, crazy make-up and bodice and go as curry's character. scary, but....hmmmm....

even the idea is liberating.

*and again, i let myself think this but won't let anyone else think this on my behalf.

artist's date

one of the weekly assignments we have to complete for the artist's way is an artist date where you have to take your artist self out on a date. this is simply following the basic principals of relationship maintenance: quality time. you have to go alone and it has to be fun and play. for some reason i've been resisting these a bit. i don't have problems being alone and i don't have problems doing joyful things, but somehow setting aside time {oh, that elusive being} and intent to pamper my artist self has been tough.

on monday, a mere hours before class, i decided to finally make it happen {in my defense, i've spent more time out of town than in it recently}. i went on a little jaunt down to the pike place market antique shop that is the source of my button fetish. i picked up 150 new buttons, a few random glass jars, and one big 5 gallon glass jar that will soon become my gratitude jar {i am still waiting to decide how i will put the little writings of gratitude into the jar. do i crumple them up as i drop them, leave them open so i can read them a little from the outside, or carefully fold each and every one into a crane?}. the price on the big jar was a little above what i had in mind, but then again, i had gone to the store specifically to pick up buttons and this glass jar just like the one i had been picturing for over a week, so why should i balk at the price of something so obviously intended for me {i found it within minutes of walking into the store, just as i imagined it}.

the gratitude jar will have to be shown later {by the way, looking for a less awkward way of saying the same idea} and in the meantime, enjoy the buttons!

camping

the trip was wonderful despite the hiccup of losing the keys to the car and having to spend three hours at the twilight-fan-center also known as the three rivers service station. they offer werewolf burgers and edward shakes and boast that they are on the werewolf side of the treaty line that is posted just outside. all the paraphernalia made me feel embarrassed like ending up on kiddie rides must feel like to a sixth grader, but i really shouldn't complain because they gave us free access to their phone {since who gets cell phone reception that far out in the boonies???}, had the clerk's son bring in his droid cell phone charger for us so m's wouldn't die, asked anyone passing if they knew how to break into a 2008 pilot and generally were about as sweet and small town as you can get. oh, and let's not forget adam, the hiker about to pack out late in the afternoon who sooo kindly gave us a ride from the beach to the service station to make the phone calls.

but, all that aside, it was fantastic to spend time with ede & m, two people i don't get to see enough of, particularly not together. additionally, i made a new friend, and of the kind that doesn't come around too often. that instant click of understanding, gentle inquisitiveness and the resonance of appreciation and celebration all moshed into one. we stayed up well past 3am the second night {he missed the first night since he had to find a way to bring eden her keys from her apartment in seattle. dear j, our hero of the trip}. and without realizing it, he is in possession of a good deal of most of the significant moments of my personal history. but he held them all so carefully, seeing the links between everything as all parts of one whole. he could see all the facets of emotional minutiae that i am fascinated with and even put words to things i hadn't yet named. and, most significantly, is able to see and celebrate the through-line of my life: the themes of beauty, memory, personal history and authenticity that are pulling me forward and through everything from radiohead and acting to how i organize my books by color.

so here we are, the four of us and our surroundings {the photos can attest to their beauty} for a few days on the peninsula.

the sound of the tide pulling back into the ocean
and rolling the stones en masse was incredible.


we thought it was a good idea to hang out on the big piece of driftwood
close to the water's edge. let me tell you, it wasn't. my feet are probably
still mad at me for how wet they got and my heart didn't need the scare.
you'll notice the water creeping up on the first photo and the blurriness
of the 2nd which was taken on impact. we all survived, including my camera.







on my vet art retreat at the beginning of august {and yes, i still owe everyone photos from that}
i started playing around with taking fuzzy photos to get a more painterly and atmospheric image.
yes, i know i'm not the first, but it doesn't make it any less fun.

josh contemplating a whale spine lodged in the sand. stinky, i tell you.






ede showing off the rope ladder we used to climb up to our spot
& this is the mini bar. designed by m. good job.

more wood collecting while i took photos. slacker.


departures are always sad, though i was looking forward to a flushing toilet.

ede can always put a good face on for the camera.

currently listening to a test run of a mix i owe a good friend titled "a radiohead mix to change your life" that's a lot of pressure to put on a person, so i have to give it a good test drive first. reckoner, true love waits & all for the best have all played during the writing of this post.