inside out

After a middle-of-the-night trip to the ER, Friday, ZuZuBean was admitted to the hospital with a completely arse-kicking enterovirus. They just released us back into society, today, and she's going to be perfectly fine, but things were much too scary there for a little while and it's probably going to take some time for her little body and my heart & brain to fully recover... as soon as they do, we'll be back. Hugs.

O,



...daydreaming of walking down one of my favorite streets in paris while eating a chocolate ice-cream, just before entering one of my favorite secondhand shops only to find the most beautiful, black- cotton sundress and buttery-soft, pale-pink kneesocks which will just cover the band-aids on my knees and perfectly match the shawl I found, already pinned with a sweatpea, abandoned on a park bench...

rain



soaked



roses.


chalk roses 1 enlarged

chalk roses 2 enlarged

Well, gee, I know where I'll be tomorrow.

I do hope this handsome group of guys is there. My little reading chair just seems so empty without one. Wouldn't they be very nice to cuddle as you read? (I think I'm rather partial to the bearded redhead...)

:~)

[I like this better the bigger it gets.]

I've found that trying to take a full-blown hiatus from this space is sort of like forcing myself to neglect a good friend... somewhat impossible and exceedingly pointless. I suppose this means I have a much better relationship with her than I'd previously imagined... even though sometimes she mischievously perturbs me and I feel quite obligated to wrestle with her. So, rather than completely ignore her or completely forgive her, I'm going to turn primarily photo-blogger with her for a brief spell... you know, while we work on our relationship. Nevermind. pffft.

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Wow!! Boston Handmade Blog. They even cover poetry readings!

a brief interruption in hiatus to i want to bring you some lilacs that are simply ready to burst. please be sure to keep them properly hydrated... now... back to soaking up some sunlight, rainwater, blossoms and shadows...



(i can't decide if this recording of birdsong makes me hyper or drowsy... i do know it reminds me of nestling in my bed, adjacent to the opened balcony doors every morning in Guanajuato- where i once made a very similar recording...)

oh, and i'm so not on hiatus from my pocket-camera.

:~)

{yay! handmade nation blogs.}

captured lilac branches




This is my last post 'til sometime in May... so, see ya next month!;~) I might still be posting somewhat regularly over on my Flickr Page, but not sure. Thanks for reading/viewing, happy spring, much love and many, many hugs.

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4/26/08:

my birthday morning still life... pre-chocolate-sugar-caffeine insanity.

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Gallery ZuZu



She pointed, I shot, so, I consider this very much her collection. It'll be hung on the wall above her bed so she'll be able to gaze upon her much loved trees, flowers, clouds and rocks anytime she likes... I have a feeling she'll be using this camera herself any day now... and I can't wait.

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♥

oh, boy. looking very forward to this.

beware of the cuteness.


[This afternoon]

on a date with

[my girl].

We picnicked on grapes, cheese and clementines then went for a walk as she pointed to all the flowers and trees she wanted me to photograph with my Polaroid... it was the best kind of date.

May I offer you a row of harpoons and an heirloom daffodil for your hair?




[April 20, 2008, from my paper journal]

Yesterday's quality time with the ever elusive Señor D. mainly consisted of his cutting of my maddening, chaotic, much too long hair (per my desperately irrational request) and our searching of one another's personage for ticks. We spotted a dreaded Deer Tick crawling around on his shoe which spawned this somewhat panicked, apish hunt for others. No more were found and all was well. My hair, on the other hand, turned into a slight (mega) disaster, since Señor D. has no real or measurable haircutting skills, other than thorough, monk-like head shaving, which may be the style I should have requested. Instead, I was treated to a perfectly uneven, scraggly, masterpiece extending to the very tips of my shoulderblades. The thing is, I don't even care what a hack-job it is because dealing with my oft tumultuous, crazy-long (almost to the small of my back) hair was making me rather berserk on a much too frequent basis. It's a relief, silly looking or not, to be rid of some of it. Whew. I also suspect I may still be able to do a bit of something with this (well-meaning) butchery to make it work if I just put a little, emergency call into my Sister J., the veritable maestra of hairtastrophe.

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May I offer you a minute's silence and a dance?

Another peek. I'm so excited about this project that it might be difficult not to keep offering peeks before it's all finished, printed and sent out. I'm only printing 20 bundles, 12 of which already have predetermined destinations, so please drop an e-mail if you'd like one. My contact info is below. Any unclaimed bundles will be taken apart and left in various locations throughout Boston.

In the unlikely event that I should run out of printed bundles before you claim one I'm also turning this into a project that will be viewable on-line after all the postcard bundles are printed, sent and received... I will now attempt to resist the overwhelming urge to offer any more peeks.

(I'm working on a little, booklet/postcard bundle of some of my photographs and one of my older poems. This is a peek at the first page/card.)

Solar Powered Alarm Clock




A large part of our morning ritual involves reading. I usually have a small selection of things picked out to read to her upon waking and throughout breakfast. This selection most definitely includes poetry. Sometimes it's poetry written specifically for children and sometimes it's a "grown-up" poem that I think she might particularly enjoy. Today, I read Jimmy Santiago Baca's, I Have No Shadow and she was utterly transfixed, which is always a good sign that something positive may have been sparked. As I was reading it, I realized it would actually make a wonderful, illustrated children's book and decided that I should make it into one for her birthday. It won't be anything fancy... just simple illustrations on construction paper with the words handwritten, looped together with yarn... but, I think she might really like it.

["]

I Have No Shadow

Sitting here below an eagle tree, I have no shadow;
medicine men told me about
eagle tree legends,
where eagles gather during winter,
and I start picking up white eagle feathers,
beautiful small ones,
long, wide ones,
some reaching from the tip of my finger
past my elbow--
I'll cure them with tobacco, blue corn meal, in
ceremony,
braid red and blue thread and beads at the base,
red for earth dreams and visions,
turquoise beads to connect them to sky,
then give them to the sun dancers
in return for their prayers.

I continue, my left hand full of feathers,
my right hand clutching at rocks, higher
until I come to a source of water pouring
from soft grass and lichen moss stones,
gulp water at the womb,
lather my face, arms, neck, shoulders and hair,
dip the feathers in, close my eyes and sprinkle my entire body.
My ancestors appear
a few feet away,
on a fallen tree log in black skirts,
purple lilacs in their hair,
all around me in the forest
wind groans in the giant evergreens.

Up further, where rocks converge in gullet heaves,
a butterfly bumps my feather clutching finger,
I slip and start to butt-skid down
reach my left hand out for something to hold,
grab a cactus--
it holds,
but my palm bleeds molten hot with pain,
quills pierced to the bone,
and I move up, eagle feathers in my right hand,
pain in my left,
finally reach level ground,
I stand at the peak--
overlooking mesas, valleys, closer to the sun
than I've ever been, bearing gifts--
blood in one hand, feathers in the other.

~~ Jimmy Santiago Baca, Spring Poems Along the Rio Grande

traveling companion



another one who enjoys cavorting
(and debating) with her shadow.

*

oh, yes. me too. right now.

*

During the winter months, while we were spending
more time indoors, ZuZuBean and I began making
music very similar to this-



soon, I think we'll be coming to a town near you.

sun warmed.



nearly impossible to vacate under such nourishing circumstances.

traffic lights

It's suddenly occurred to me that this has officially become the longest time I've stayed in one spot since reaching adulthood. This fills me with a myriad of contradictory emotions; one of them happiness and one of them an underlying urgency to swiftly hunt down and amble along one of these, at least until I come to some adequate flying or floating apparatus... or a superbly warm beach strung with plenty of hammocks.

an opening somewhere letting soil in



While I was pregnant I felt like a turtle with an upside down shell. I would dream about sea turtles. They were trying to teach me to swim with my disasterous, upside down shell. It would never work and they'd have to carry me through the water, helpless.

I would also regularly dream of an adorable, little, blond-haired girl of about three or four, wearing pigtails, a red t-shirt, red shorts and red sneakers. We were always wandering around in a jungle or cloud forest, absorbed in lively conversation and looking for places to camp. I felt intensely protective of her and believed there to be constant danger lurking behind every shadow. I was inundated with a strong sense of responsibility and an even stronger sense of not being able to protect her sufficiently. I would wake up, crying out, sweating with a racing heart, reaching for and instantly missing the little girl from my dream.

I now know that little girl was ZuZuBean. She looks more and more like her dreamworld counterpart each day. I guess it's a little spooky, sometimes, when I allow myself to think about it.

In the photo above, I was trying to compare the size and shape of my daughter's eleven month old head to her former turtle shell and finding it rather impossible to believe she was ever in there. I was overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of amazement and snapped a picture with my camera and with my body.

.sigh.

just in case
you're sick and tired
of looking
at my sunsprayed quilt and
sleepy, nightgown clad
shadow-woman
you could go
here.




[ah. only rain
today to feed
the sprouting.
shadows
may sleep
soundly.]

nectar for your roots




my skin begins to howl in anticipation of being touched by the warm precision of each new sunrise. my skin forgets that every morning, as the first sunbeam burrows softly into my ribcage, shadow woman lifts a machete preparing to hack away at the mythological creature, ever-bathed in rain and orange-blossom, growing fervently from my hair.

I'd like to know... exactly when Ingmar Bergman was eavesdropping in my bedroom?

["]

Marianne Sometimes I know exactly how you're feeling and thinking. And then I feel a great tenderness for you and forget about myself, even though I don't efface myself. Do you understand what I mean?

Johan I understand what you mean.

Marianne Sometimes I can identify myself with a complete stranger too, and understand him. Those are brief moments of insight.

Johan If we were to trust in that sort of sentimental fellowship, nothing would ever get done, I can assure you.

Marianne Johan.

Johan Yes?

Marianne Sometimes it grieves me that I have never loved anyone. I don't think I've ever been loved either. It really distresses me.

Johan I think you're too tense about this.

Marianne (smiling) Do you?

Johan I can only answer for myself. And I think I love you in my imperfect and rather selfish way. And at times I think you love me in your stormy, emotional way. In fact, I think that you and I love one another. In an earthly and imperfect way.

Marianne Do you really think so?

Johan You're so damned hard to please.

Marianne Yes, I am.

Johan But here I sit with my arms around you, without any fuss, in the middle of a dark house, somewhere in the world. And your arms are around me. I can't honestly say I have any great insight or fellow-feeling.

Marianne No, you haven't.

Johan Presumably I don't have the imagination for that.

Marianne No, you're rather unimaginative.

Johan I don't know what the hell my love looks like. I can't describe it and I hardly ever feel it in everyday life.

Marianne And you think I love you too?

Johan Yes, perhaps you do. But if we harp on it too much, love will give out.

Marianne We're going to sit like this all night.

Johan Oh no, we're not!

Marianne Why not?

Johan One leg has gone to sleep and my left arm is practically dislocated. I'm very sleepy and my back's cold.

Marianne Well then, let's snuggle down.

Johan Yes, let's.

Finally got to see this after reading and loving the screenplay over a year ago. It was well worth the wait and I positively fell in love with Liv Ullman. Oh, that hair! Goodness.

---

Latest Zu News: We've been visiting Boston quite regularly for the past several weekends. ZuZuBean adores it. She rides the T like she's listening and bobbing her head to jazz. During the week, when we're back in our woodsy suburb she tells little stories about her Boston adventures and asks, "Go Boston?" almost every morning directly upon waking.

I'm beginning to think she may be more of a city girl, but, one in love with trees. Hmm...

In honor of Sven Nykvist.

---

I didn't know it yet, but, I was writing this poem for ZuZuBean.

... I suspect it's worked.


---

Zu's favorite book right now is Maurice Sendak's, WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE. Its pages must be turned and read more than 15 times each day. She's especially fond of, "...let the wild rumpus start!" and "I'LL EAT YOU UP!"

"I EAT VOO UP!" has become her idea of applause. A nuzzle, slight bite with a chortle and firm tug of your hair is her most current standing ovation.

...now face north...

Sometimes it seems almost impossible to recover your intended path after crawling out of the huge crater of a mud puddle you've just fallen into, especially with the wind and rain still stinging your face, but, with a good umbrella and some tall, sturdy rainboots, you should be able to find your way...

My Mama is definitely one who has already regained her sense of direction and will soon be heading south, to Texas, and then into Mexico, for awhile. Of course, I've managed to tuck a few, little surprises into her suitcase... one of them, a rather sizable shopping list... blush.

Oh, and... this one seems to thoroughly enjoy trekking through the mud no matter how many puddles she lands in. I think she might even hunt them down for the sole purpose of diving in.

fresh forward



if there is music that can wake the dead,
this is music that can chase the dead away,
but only if you play it loudly enough,
throw wide the windows
and dance.

*

as she naps...
dreaming of...

cake?

a book of the world carved into glass. scraped empty. in need of preserves.

---

(this month of the sweetest ZuZuBean continues as she dreams of...)

spidey on glass

it smells like tender pink & green sprouting,
rain, soil and a fire made of slightly damp birchwood,
coffee and bread and



she is trying to sing in French,



"Et mon amie la rose
Me l'a dit ce matin
A l'aurore je suis née
Baptisée de rosée
Je me suis épanouie
Heureuse et amoureuse
Aux rayons du soleil
Me suis fermée la nuit
Me suis réveillée vieille

Pourtant j'étais très belle
Oui j'étais la plus belle
Des fleurs de ton jardin..."



as she contemplates the eyes on her toes.

scattered across surfaces



i don't know how it happened, but somewhere along the way i've become a faithful groggy and confused lover of early mornings. for many years early mornings were probably the last thing i would have ever loved and lingering awhile over breakfast seemed a completely pointless waste of my ever fleeting, smartarsed time. i do remember loving morning and breakfast as a child, however, so it seems i may have managed to navigate myself around in some sort of chain-linked circle.



(...decided to continue this blog post on top of a photo.. just geeking out over some new newly discovered, free (FREEFREEFREE) editing tools. whee!)

~ ~ ~
today's ZuZuBean installation...

:~)

"A-A-April, come she must..."



(Sunday, almost April, in Boston.)

Oh, Sunshine Glare, how I love thee,
for that must mean there is Sunshine!

~ ~ ~



~ ~ ~
I must declare April the month of the sweetest ZuZuBean on this little, palm-sized, heartshaped Pocket Magnet because this is the month she was born into! It's the month her Mama was born into and her Great Grammy, the Marvelous Mary Cunningham (today, in fact!)... and several other of our most favorite people... Happy Birthmonth to all the splendid April Babies-- you know who you are! Yay for April!

I think... first, a few photos from our earlier days together:

(This one is quite a bit enlarged and hanging above my desk, right now...



and, even though you can't see her in this one, she's cradled in my other arm as I attempt to capture the look of a rather crazed parent that's been kept awake all night with a teething 9-month-old... I keep it in my wallet for future reference...



heh, no need for further explanation and you probably, already, know where I keep them...



tearing up... sniffle, sniffle... :`)

*

A book I'm veeeery excited to get my hands on!

*

Updaaaate!: Another April Baby... and another cousin for me! My Auntie just gave birth to a beautiful, raven-haired Eden...

early lilacs



The lilacs outside haven't begun to sprout even slightly, but a couple of weeks ago, after a particularly grumpy wind and rain storm, ZuZuBean found a little lilac branch on the ground and asked, "Bring in?"

We brought it in and placed it in a bowl of water in a sunny corner near our "muddy boots mat", and a few days ago, much to our delight, we noticed it was actually beginning to produce buds. We're both quite curious how long we may manage to keep it alive and if it will possibly fill our home with its flowers and sweetest perfume sometime soon... if not, we still have that whole tree of lilac branches under our livingroom window and are already looking forward to many reading and napping sessions out beneath its generous, dream inducing blossoms.

Saturday Morning Polaroids



click here to watch it grow.

That feisty, little swan was giving Señor D. such a hard time at breakfast this morning, even though the sun was shining, the sky was blue and filled with the most unbelievable cloud formations and the wind was blowing in gently from the south. He tried to bribe her into sweetness with a bowl of quite magnificent blackberries, but she refused to fall for it. Finally, and much to his relief, she marched off to be alone in her quiet, secluded pond, deep in the woods and things became a bit more peaceful.

Soon, morning turned to afternoon and everyone got very lazy in the fresh, new, springtime air. All they could manage to do was drowsily hang their laundry on the clothesline, slowly, piece by piece, closely examine a plump spider creeping daintily across the sky and eat herb & cheese pizza while sipping sparkling drinks made of leftover berries and pomegranates.

saturday afternoon digitals...



1. saturday is laundry day 2, 2. cheesey herbalicious, 3. spidey, 4. saturday is laundry day 1

(One of those lazy people just happens to have the very best 99 cent stripey-socks and softest, orange t-shirt with kangaroo pockets known to man, woman or child... shouldn't every t-shirt have kangaroo pockets?)

...

I like being tagged by Ms. Lolabola so here are five things you may not know about me, depending on who you are... I think there are a couple more of these floating around somewhere on this blog, which makes these 5 things more like numbers 15 to 20...(:

15. I like to cook and create great yumminess.

16. Over the last few years I've fallen more and more in love with photography and filmmaking.

17. I have three sisters and one brother, but only one sister lives close enough for me to see on a regular basis. We miss the others so much, all the time.

18. I'm totally getting ZuZuBean a Big Wheel-type thing for her birthday... and a helmet. Her song of the moment is this.

19. My hair is rather long and unruly. I may soon need to just cut it all off in order to preserve my sanity. For now, I usually just wear it in two braids, loopy braids or spiraled into Princess Leia buns. I also like to cram flowers or beaded bobby pins into it.

20. Cotton tank-tops, boyshorts, kneesocks, glasses and giant, magical headphones, please & thanks.

again &


Today, I'm wondering such deep things as

how narcissistic would it be to put myself on the cover of my own chapbook?

(Even if I'm disguised as a swan-fish woman.)

O.K., I know.

a girl's best friend



... you want to cuddle-up with Bo-Bo too, don't you? O.K., go ahead, but mind his burs...


It seems my intense urge to curl-up in the warm fur of dogs began at quite a young age... age two, to be exact.


(child and photo by my Mama.)

...

Update, Update!: Best wishes to my brother-in-law currently traveling and recording in Ireland and then Belgium and France... I am truly so jealous--- all three places are exactly where I'd love to be at this very moment! Hmmm... I wonder if he might need some sort of equipment manager for his next trip...


Here he is, again, creating quite a beautiful ruckus with Mike Gallagher of Isis...

Dreaming of Dogs and Cityscapes- Take 3



...go right up the walkway and knock on the door? I think you should... please do.

*


Tangerine: (knocking on door) Helooo?

Man 1: If you are a woman, go away. You sound like a woman. Go away.

Man 2: (in the distance) Woman? Whaaat? (the sound of running feet)

Man 1: Oh, no.

Tangerine: You have a room to rent?

Man 1: No.

Man 2: Yes.

Man 1: No.

Tangerine: Um, I brought wine, though.

Man 1: Yes.

Man 2: Do you know how to cook spaghetti? (ignores surprised glance from Man 1)

Tangerine: Yeah...

Man 1: ... well, our bathroom is nothing but atrocious... and its door just fell off...





(I'm enlarging and framing this one to place on the wall above my stove so I can gaze into it while trying out cheap, new pasta recipes and making numerous, extra sugary hibiscus teas!)

Dreaming of Dogs and Cityscapes- Take 2



I think I might be enjoying this little rummage through my unearthed box of treasure. I'm beginning to (almost) be able to breath again, so, I must thank you for allowing me to air some of it out here in the cool freshness of this elevation.



I remember feeling an intense urge to curl-up in the sun with this warm-furred dog on the doorstep... such a sweet and friendly cuddle-love. This was taken in 1998... or 9... maybe? Not sure... from this moment forward I shall always remember to date & label pictures in order to avoid future brain-pain... sincerely, declaratively.

Dreaming of Dogs and Cityscapes- Take 1





(Señor D.-top, Emilio V.-middle, Wire Sculpture by Señor D.-bottom--- taken in Guanajuato, Gto., Mexico at some beautiful and somewhat overwhelming point during the 1990's.)


This evening, I inadvertently unearthed some deeply buried treasures. I'm still quite dizzy from the blinding glow of discovery. Maybe, if I share just a bit of it, I'll allow some of the more highly concentrated molecules to disperse and my lungs will find a way to fill again. Until then, this room is just pungent hyacinth soaked in scorching sunlight.


(Oh, I miss that light... and that camera!)

counting your vertebrae



enlarge the crookedness?

nothing but a song



now dance around in your bones.

swan-woman/woman-swan



Oh, dear. I began doodling and cutting things with much too big scissors... I am so in need of some delicate, snipping scissors... and my favorite dress, and... well, now, I'm so full of ideas I could explode--- a swan-woman sculpture, a woman-swan t-shirt or undershirt... a swan-woman vispo-comic!! Really, I'm just playing, haphazardly combining, quite silly and do annoy myself, daily, but... oh, but... oh...




in my dreams, I shall swiftly embroider this into a white, cotton camisole... mmmzz.


~ . ~ . ~

note: that's not me in the headless portrait, but an undisclosed woman in an undisclosed location wearing the dress to end all dresses.

& a bit later: there's a bloggerista I miss very much. she's so much closer to the equator and still reads my blither-blather, but, i wish she would come back and let us read hers again... deep sigh into the chest cavity.

Indeed.

my wisdom tooth



she keeps
warning me against
becoming too
wise.

i tell her
not to worry.


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"Atáat dano dí fhodail for fíilte ó n-impoíther i coire sofhis, .i. fáilte déodea & fáilte dóendae."

...
"There are two divisions of joy that turn the cauldron of wisdom; divine joy and human joy."


~~ from, The Cauldron of Poesy as translated by Erynn Rowan Laurie 1995-1998

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