lost in books

When I was a little kid and the youngest of my family, I remember there was a lot of safety in intimacy I mean touch, there was a lot of playful gripping and holding and caressing and embracing, playful fighting and running and pushing and pulling, between kids and kids and adults and kids and friends and cousins and kids and family, there was a lot of charging and edging and rolling and rough handling of me, picking me up and tossing me in the air, or letting me get on your back or sit up on top of your shoulders when I was young enough to be light enough to be carried that way to be held that way to be safe that way and those days were so wonderful they could not last long enough. There was even a sad time somewhere when I could not reach out to you - nor you me - and I knew not what to do with myself, only get lost in my books.

WIP. plan of attack. (with loving kindness)

Strategy... (reimmersion campaign)


1 - get head out of fog  (yes. established) deeper sleep renews!
2 - attend to physical  (ongoing)
3 - re-reading David Copperfield. learning from Dickens style (ongoing)
4 - sit my ass at desk at home  (fail fail fail!)
5 - consider rearranging furniture. laptop on couch. switch rooms (last resort)
6 - attend to spirit (ongoing)
7 - prayer. journaling. sunshine. caring (move toward causes)
8 - channel switching (yes. more guitar. running. cycling. walks)
9 - minimize netflix (body at rest)
10 - maximize housekeeping (body in motion)
11 - memory (what you do that makes you feel good)
12 - attending to needs vs desires (self-discipline)
13 - work = freedom (purpose)
14 - coffee (is my drug) in moderation
15 - mindfulness. slow but certain

Goal to complete and publication
reality: June / July 2016

Nothing is possible without
attitude of loving kindness

the bell tolled six

She hid in the garden. They knew she was hiding – she always did. Supper went on when the bell tolled five. When the bell tolled six she was gone. A lady with a boy had been seen on the grounds that day whom no one had seen before. She lied to the girl and tricked her away. The boy was used to lend verity to the fable. They did not know she was loved and missed and desperately needed. They only had to have her to mend a broken circle, at the center of which was a terrible secret needed guarding.


smoke rings

the fog
i sucked
out my head

to blow smoke
rings

for
my
four
fingers

depression

My skin so thin and traveling has been hard to endure no matter how local it could be the neighbor and dare i dial your number and be confronted by you and me. My mind unreal looks for finality in rituals which have no end. Shopping the last pear half or double dozen of egg. Wishing i may never bleach the bathroom again.

All work to go away with every single necessary interaction. The ceasing of small pleasures even, only to take more sleep. Only to dream nightmares more real than conscious reverie and only to wanna end to those, too, and only to wake to more dishes and emotions to contend…

and the very great pressure of you 

waiting for me to prove myself real.

seas. teas

Morning birds
calling me to
show up

green tea
frothing


i am mad as

 seas

Journal # 05.11.16

I have been troubled. My mind looks at the walls and searches for symmetry. In the paintings and photographs. Everything is off and even the new front door they fit, is off white but I like it. Still my mind rummages around when there's central work to be done. My biggest responsibility may be to silence my mobile phone. Welcome to 2016. The little things. Seems I lost my state of mind to some sorta civil war with every other neuroblast taking sides. Divisive. I demand a united front. Summer is on the way and here's hoping we both get hot.

go slow. go quietly in your creative process

Imagine if you slowed your process down and watched it, played it back for yourself like a film. Yes, you can drip all the butter you want on your popcorn. Just eat one popped kernel at a time. Taste it. Lick the butter off of your fingers very carefully, like you are giving head. You can put your legs up over the seat backs cause you are the only one in the theatre. Ladies cross your legs, just in case. Someone always prowling in the darkness, maybe come off the screen and wanna be with you. Hopefully its the hero or heroine, and don't you dare make love to yourself, it's a cardinal sin, if there was a hell you would go to it but mostly we agnostics know you would just feel bad about yourself and sick to your stomach. This is a work of fiction cast out from the booth in the back to enlighten the screen for your eyes, you who receive. Imagine the warm blue light triangulating out into the darkness and above your head. Closest to the projector you can even see the air we breathe is swimming with dust. Our lungs must be ingenious. Focus on your breath as the numbers count down from ten, with an old radar-like image and a line traveling clockwise around back to midnight and the numbers fall and the excitement of what's to come... What's to come out of process, is more process, the consequence of process, the marvel of creation, making our lives one brilliant second at a time as we go. Swimming through our lives and slow it down commensurate with a wave. We are fragile. We are breaking. We are falling in love again.  xxxxox  KatYa

Process #

What with the predawn birds and Claude Debussy this morning after a vibrant night of dreaming, I am overcome with a fullness of spirit. The milk. The coffee. I was beginning to think I would never finish writing this novella. Oh! The simple wonders of the world. How things may change in an instant!

GWB - Video Book 1:4:2