hoping that explosion was not related to the paper lantern that landed on the roof

happy birthday!
so many good friends and good music:
thank you
we get to do it all over again! better this time.
love more! more love! forgive more. slow down and be quiet more.
dance more. laugh more. pause more. allow more. stand up for what is important more.

day 298. banjo, sci fi dreams, and ambient sounds. i love you. you (you three people who read my blog) know who you are.

strawberry hookah

for the first time ever in my life i thought that sounded good.

what do you most desire? what are your dreams? what do you get to practice letting go? what are you so at peace with? what do you sew? what do you believe? what is humility?

song for today: castles made of sand

street cred

ha. i'm from santa cruz.

up there with clouds...

up there with clouds on the love scale are magnolia blossoms especially when you get your kid to smell them. your kid. imagine that. your kid is up there with clouds.
it's like the best teaching. how to get the most out of life. one flower, one sky at a time. was thinking about contrast- in that it is the stuff we don't want that helps define what we do want, it clears a space. and anyway, you can't fight it.
then we have moonlit clouds. we have northern lights and desert night skies. and lightning.and emptiness.

know what i hate more than death? the loss of someone alive. i dream about it.
letting go. no, i can't say i hate it. it's a part. do it all the time. freedom. trap. contrast. all those parts of us. heard today love comes in many forms. grace, forgiveness, and even in the double fuck you picture i poached off instagram.

words of the year

heteronormative
idiolect
#loveisazombie
kill my landlord
cousin

80's, 80's

the language of love

you know the neighborhood is going to shit when the christmas carolers come out

and i guess that i just don't know

sidewalk in front song

and then the rain stopped and it became quiet

how many closets does one have to come out of already

breaking glass, david bowie

street sounds, if you listen very closely, be as quiet as you can, inside doors, contain seven billion stories. more.

someone told me once the meaning of respect, the root is to see again. innocence. wash clean. change of perspective. to see again.

stillness

is everywhere

ruined for love

i can only love you
and david bowie

meanwhile what is fucking wrong with people? car alarms??? ?? banking???? etcetera???
give it up give it up give it up
(god of contrast: praise your troubles away)

as the aries vegan said it's rough out in these heteronormative scenarios... sigh. new moon. sharing the stoop. tempering my anger with the suggestion to stay graceful, calm, calm talk, classy, whatevs so, instead of HURLING a sack of 7,600 copper pennies at city hall to pay to park for an extensive THREE hours in my neighborhood on a fucking saturday, maybe just set them GENTLY on the mayor's, or the department of municipal transit head's desk.

three material wishes, three soulful/artistic, three esoteric. go!

and furthermore ;) "i don't want to calm down!"

hey archivists of the future!

good luck eh!?
day number, hold on. counting skills...aw i don't care about the count. don't you wonder sometimes

street: french quarter it is putin! merde! same old.

1,200 savasanas

i think that is a fair estimate of my yoga history

heard on the street:
"honey, i'm a hooker, i don't crochet."

and, muffled trumpet. beautifully muffled. on purpose. i got a ten secomd recording; one day i will get my tech shit together 'nuf to post the sounds. what struck me listening to the recording was, wow, so loud is the street.

street score

furniture. SF's lingering spirit. then we were talking about, well it came up in an impromptu reference to the big red chair, clifford, the attitudes of furniture. as if! but we laughed. fuck you, pal.
saint francis. give it.

best barefoot shirtless player

day #244, night, roxy music

another good one; not the live youtube version tho; bryan ferry looked too coked out- which is an assumption only.

check out the vixens on the front cover- chicks with spears

laps

laps, the kinds you run, around and around, and around and around and around.

then, lapse, as in time, relapse, as in time again. time again. there is a car alarm in the far distance tonight.

it doesn't matter, everyday is another gift of witness. always gonna be pain. always gonna be someone making choices around you that you don't want.

i got out to the beach this weekend: the ocean and sky and sand are so expansive, so grounding, so much bigger than my little house in the city, so much more infinite; the view immediately so much more vast and true and never/always changing- than it sometimes feels in the little mind. why i like to go there: it's like a reset button. it just supports you.

what i appreciate this week is family, friends, in all their iterations.

and

music, music

day #239: rambunctiousness, car alarms, and ego-patrol

sensitive ones. delicate ones. rebellious ones. car alarms, riots and celebrations. how we express ourselves. how we act and interact.
that's all. desire, dreams, and meanwhiles.

heard on the street

"life is merciful."

stay out of the deep end

swim. stay afloat. close to shore. splash whomever needs splashing. (dreams)
next topic: civil disobedience: standing up and speaking not against 'them' but for 'us.'
and, thoughts create things, so how are you creating? from what place do you vibrate acceptance, peace, abundance, gratitude, creativity, and happiness? from what strength do you know to swim? survival instinct, of course; then what: nourishment. nourishment.

bad habits

oh sheila

no i was not texting while driving; i was blogging.
man, bay area radio is so dope: kpfa, pacifica, kpoo, kalx, valencia.
talkin' 'bout olly north bullshit and the aftermath: this society produces madness.
deep, institutional, personal/communal violence and distrust of law enforcement.

meanwhile, give me a man who can sing like prince?

the struggle is real; horns, horns and more horns

fog horns
one of the best sounds of SF
and i heard one of those old car alarms: the car horn style, remember those?

people moving
street alive
post eclipse
stuff changes

gimme the dwight, hold the whiskey.
happy birthday john lennon, peter tosh, pj harvey.

wednesday, leaf blower, lunar eclipse

dark moon: what is lost? what to leave behind? what to keep hold of.
visual audio fun
where are you right now? how does it feel?

midday lately i start to die.

dwight yoakam 'fast as you' revives.

some bullshit

let's play where is my car?
let's play love song of the day\
i seriously can't find my car

blessed unrest

your love is pure

martha graham (re: title)

day 12, day 210, day 16,341.

nothing to be done. can you do it?

"just a lone chromosome on the microphone" zionI.
best lyric heard today. yesterday i liked so long so soon. someone at hardly strictly bluegrass.

sounds of the street tonight

d'angelo, and someone shaking a can of spray paint

nina simone this week doing leonard cohen covers and being quoted on bar bathroom walls and emphemerous digital voids: you have to learn to get up from the table when LOVE is no longer being  served.

day two oh seven (or 9, depending): has my relationship to the car alarm changed?

when i heard it at 515am it stirred the same nervous anxiety and judgement as it has always, its nature is to alarm. the anxiety is on the surface about not disturbing my son's sleep; deeper it's about humanity's never ending stupidity.
over all i would say my relationship to the car alarm has changed: i have even heard it as beautiful, as a beat accompanying electronic music; i have considered its place in the zen landscape- what does your mind do with this annoying item?
there is acceptance. there is resistance. there is sadness. what are they protecting? what are they afraid of? what treasure is maintained? how does it fit into the magic world?

dead OG angels, golden light, trash day

tupac: unconditional love
sunrise: witness, gratitude
every day is trash day: what do you throw away that still has beauty in it?

a friend told me to stop making nice of everything ;)

nah. not what i feel purposed to do here.

what is your general sense?

am i going to enjoy you?

the air is fresh. it is night. cars in the distance. focus on what you love.

like music, like laughter, like movement, like freedom, like laurie anderson lyrics to walking and falling:
I wanted you. And I was looking for you. But I couldn't find you. I wanted you. And I was looking for you all day. But I couldn't find you. I couldn't find you. You're walking. And you don't always realize it, but you're always falling. With each step you fall forward slightly. And then catch yourself from falling. Over and over, you're falling. And then catching yourself from falling. And this is how you can be walking and falling at the same time. 

workin' shit out in dreams

some of us are dreamers; i prefer to think all of us are dreamers, like i prefer to believe that all of us can learn to cook nutritious meals; but some of us identify with being dreamers.

last night i worked out some serious shit. anger. injustice. violence.

upon waking, gratitude. i have this current dilemma that is dissolving out of choice coupled with active letting go.  easier to say than to do. will power. allowance. acceptance, celebration even.  keep on moving and keep it flowing and keep dreaming and keep loving, and don't forget forgiving.

the street was again fragrant with tree scents, moisture.  air is clear.

neighbors morning routines, busy. fresh. news radio discussing the history of trade and currency: its roots in government paying soldiers, then creeping down into what is now the psychology of colonization.

on the music side we had depeche mode- i just can't get enough, lyle lovett -i married her just because she looked like you, bryan ferry/roxy music cover of smoke gets in your eyes, and prototype, by outkast.  also on music/video side wanna give a shout out to the theme from dirty dancing: gotta hand it to patrick swayze- that dude can dance. the boy was watching that new girl show with zoe dechannel or whatever and she loves that scene. it made me laugh.

was inspired to add car alarm sounds as background to one of my favorite soundcloud musician's tracks- one of the cool things about collaborating with other artists is that we feed each other.

and freewillastrology is pretty fucking good this week. love ya.

.

skip ad, rain

de piquer ton coeur
smells so good
enough, not enough (rain)

you were exactly what i needed

spacious

spacious.
expansive.
unfolding.
pure.
clear.
when we reflect that when we die it was only the experience we had every day that meant anything, it's like a huge simultaneous release and acceptance. laughter. push/pull. letting go and allowing. humility: knowing that we are responsible for our own participation in the world, our own minds, with relationship to everyone and everything.
no street noise today. misty morning. found another swisher sweet wrapper all beautified with morning due.  not sure about airstrikes. jewish holiday; new moon in libra; equinox.
time to learn another language.

even if love were not what i wanted

i need a pen

it's just soooo rich
.


One more.

Every time a multidimensional starhuman makes a conscious choice to experience an uplifted thought, a high frequency vibration of joy, gratitude or appreciation, there is a shift in the entire matrix of humanity. Every time.
Every time that a multidimensional starhuman stretches to be more compassionate, more understanding, more authentic there is a shift in the entire matrix of humanity. Every time.

glue and innocence, and mopeds

what is the relation between the first two? (don't bother with the mopeds- that's just part of the sound chronicle.)
let's compare.
again, mary poppins, chrissy hindes.
again, tide, bombs.
love bombs? yarn bombs? landmines?
my pick, two then one, acceptance only of three cuz i chose a long time ago to believe resistance is futile.
security, privacy.
entitlement, fear, curiosity, trust, control, wonder.

i should have panicked more (see time and prayer july 24) it was 44 days. she had left.
we had left with her.

today it is someone's birthday, a remembering, celebration.

home

asked the nigerian cab driver where he lives now; east bay.
home is where the heart is, i wanted to say.  home is where the cars rev up, repark, where the place you sit is in the morning, watching the people walk by. we can slow down and watch our breath, 'cause we can breathe today. we get to be in healhy bodies today. use our own hands to lift food into our mouths. smile with the people around us.
check out this documentary: inside out, about JR's street art around the world. who are we? some of us, holy shit, don't know where our food is coming from. so we cover the pain not with morphine but with cheap alcohol. gratitude. witness.
http://www.insideoutproject.net
one of those old guys on andover told me he's been through two heartbreaks in his life- one, by a woman, and the other, hunger.
i've had one major heart break and a series of rather entertaining romantic ones. but you have to feel to live.
wordsworth said something about the most important things one can do are our umremembered acts of kindness and expressions of love.
and einstein, you can either live like nothing is a miracle, or like everything is a miracle.

what natural law?

...indicates that flight costs go up $300 in four hours?

louis ck on entitlement

in other 21st street news, gratitude, gratitude, and chillaxing. 

word from the street

"when this is the French quarter..."

"I work hard, (he works hard!)
everyday of my life. I try and I try and I try
and everybody wants ro put me down,
they say i'm crazy"

"they were following up with a drone"

frequency

click click click click click click click click click click click click click click click click click

(shoes)

maybe what you should be asking is

what wonderful shit is going to happen today?


there is only exactly one of YOU

YOUTH SPEAKS!

love it when someone walks by speaking ot singing their poetry

this morning 6:25am it was a young man, not rapping as much as speaking in rhythm repeating verses

i was sleeping so i don't know all or exactly what but tonight is the larkin street youth performance benefit.

he said:

you can't see me
my child is born

feel up

and then this

we painted the curb yellow

we can call it paradise

the 80's
yoga teacher tried to kill me
savasana

hell, with soundtrack

sirens were quiet; could not figure out the recording transfer

today, white vans
other cars or perceived cars

phases, the f u phase, the laugh phase, the sweet phase, the down
the world is so large so small phase
the itch
the nails did

when there is nothing

surrender

the horn going off is too distant to struggle against, and it will stop. they all eventually do. there, it stopped.

there will be more noise. there will be more stillness. who are we, so privileged, to witness?

simplicity, the breath. the day. the child. the friend. the smile.

night biking

with headphones

and, bees.

and bird gurhls

crush

where i get information

In Plato's Theaetetus, the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates spoke derisively about people who are eu a-mousoi, an ancient Greek term that literally means "happily without muses." These are the plodding materialists who have no hunger for divine inspiration and no need of higher insights about reality. They mistakenly believe that in order to be real, a thing must be perceivable by the five senses. They aren't trustworthy. - freewillastrology.com

and, dreams. 'cause in dreams it still exists that cats guide us and worlds go on along side ours, in the same spaces we inhabit, we think, alone. 

we are killing ourselves on the other side of the world

what comes after hurt/death?

the oasser by's quote of the day is. 'you know what's funny about the universe?'

other noises of late in the paradise of 21st street: good rap, and did i already mention the cat?

i left a bowl of water out for it.

not pretty

so much love

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=YmgeZl0Yllc

i have this friend and a few other things

her name is mandy
mmmmmmandy

she said*

i am falling in love with myself.

:)

my blog is my text to myself

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QLjZur5ccsA


*that reminds me of a song


https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0m0iqYmP-oI

and for something completely different:
http://sploid.gizmodo.com/cocoa-farmers-trying-chocolate-for-the-first-time-is-a-1612726978/+caseychan

and i heard about this concept called unschooling
http://www.johnholtgws.com/frequently-asked-questions-abo/

if i could be any diva/bitch

i'd be this bitch

or this bitch

or this one

and, partnership. what does it look like? what does it feel like? which flavor do you want?

hey! make up your mind!!! stay on topic!!

wasn't raised right

yellow girls

the garden needs nourishment

today we got a website inquiry at work- someone is following one of our pages, and his profile notes he is from 'uttermost kenya'
this simple word, uttermost, says so much.

today my contemplations, apart from leaf blowers, are will, and awesomeness. uttermost will and awesomeness. and skies. and eyes. and weird, and wonderful friendships.

blessings

Day 142

truth truth truth yeah

noise report:
10am Saturday. an unhappy dog. trucks, white vans, white vans, white vans.

let's categorize!

1. there are the employers of leaf blowers types, they include republicans, people who live in pacific heights, and those who use round-up and drive hummers.  these people also use non post consumer recycled content paper products and shop online. or at safeway. they also eat their own children.

2. there are the non leaf blower types. the socialists, the conservationists, the quakers. these people shop at health food stores, corner markets, and they might eat canned food, it's a matter of class and education.

3. there are the types who talk shit about leaf blowers. self indulgent. artists. think they're above it all.

i fucking hate leaf blowers. we're going to hell.

letspainttv.com

time and prayer

21st street report:
nothing. same old. brakes/engines. humans.

this is the time, and this is the record of the time

time: last night i panicked. she might only be here for 20 more days. and then what?  i have wasted my time! you've got to do it now! NOW!

contrarily: relax. it's never enough and it will never be done. enjoy exactly where you are. appreciate.

caught in between these two perspectives, meanwhile, what is the point? love? evolution? just being? awareness of magic/divinity/the ridiculous beauty and fuck ups of it all?

so, prayer. that used to trip me up, right, 'cause i was not raised with church, and maybe there's some stickiness around words. but prayer, now, ha, means to me intention, desire, focused energy.

ritualizing the things that make up how we want to see the world around us.

everything starts in the invisible world.

that's for you, tracy.

hackers

there is the sound of (at ten pm) someone hacking outside. i find compassion is blocked. i will go hose down the sidewalk. another passerby asks 'are you okay?'

then, there is hope(.net)

sounds

1. look at me
2. coming soon! leaf blower!

nothing is lost

if there's one thing [i] could do for you...

where did you come from?

what called you here?

what do you want to get out of it?

what consumes your attention?

what do you want to create?

what can you leave behind?

what feeds your soul?

what makes you happy?

what will you remember?

when you close your eyes, what do you see?

what one has to figure out, now and then

then: do you want to work along side uniformly thin blond women who eat salads for lunch in a design firm?

now: where to buy pencil led refills; how to pay the rent while balancing on one foot, tending to your deepest desires? how to feed your children and negotiate equity if you are so fortunate to have bought into the banking system; how to see magic and feel and listen to the universe while driving through the traffic or standing in line behind craggy old women? how to love and be patient with your parents, or your children, or yourself?

and, if you are a bird, how to maneuver the lid off of the trash bin to get whatever it is that a bird needs? or if you are a hawk, well, you just glide. in your own beauty.

i live above a sorority and nextdoor to abused children

not factual. least so the latter. but those children cry soooo much and one of them should be past the fit stage. fit stage. remnants remain. do you ever wish your were a dude? life seems easier when you are half vulcan.

factual. no metaphor. spock, you know, they are a great people: live long and prosper, mind meld, the neck grip. so peacefully aggressive. again, i may not have the credentials to claim expertise on vulcan sociology.

i am questioning the whole thoughts create things concept tonight. is anything i think ever going to change the way the world shows up?

i will keep testing the theory. let you (yeah you, my one and only viewer) know what facts i collect.

depends on which street

there's a road up nearby on a glorious hill. (anger drives action; despair and bitterness kill the host.*) the hill overlooks the city. but it remains quiet, open to the sky. 

one of the journals i read talked about the next great disease of humanity being depression. all the more reason to celebrate, teach, feel whole, divine. take care. appreciate.

i drove around looking for parking spots. the street cleaners come today. trash all over. and i dreamed of not being recognized, and of cleansing.

* maya angelou interview with dave chapelle; thank you aries vegan friend.

mermaid

the street is just the stage on which we imprint our reflections, those come from the heart, the mind. our desire is internal. we produce thoughts, we control thought patterns, our thoughts create energy, and energy has certain laws we know of and some we are just beginning to learn or appreciate.

how much does our daily routine support imagination, creativity? how much dulls it. what do you focus your thoughts upon and if you practice focusing your thoughts on goodness, gratitude, what will happen?

it concerns me that the street is taken so seriously.

we see the street, and we think, ugh, the street again. we don't always notice (if we live in an urban setting) the leaves with the sun light reflected through them, the magic colors in the abalone shell, the stars, millions and millions and millions.

"When you live in a world deadened by mental abstraction, you don't sense the aliveness of the universe anymore." -E. Tolle

we do. if we pay attention; and maybe that isn't important to some people. oh yeah, that reminds me of a story from my early days on facebook. RIP. the conversation represented awareness of self consciousness.  love that. [always, non sequitor]

we want more time to dream.

art vs life

i can't do it justice in text-
anger walked down the street last night in the form of a misunderstood male human, shouting, as if he were talking to a particular person, 'fuck you man! fuck you.'
meanwhile i sat still under a blanket in the relative safety of my front stoop. in the relative safety of my lover's arms.

if i was gonna be a guy i"d be

this guy

manscream

you know how i know humans are doomed?

 (i wake up most days from dreams comfortable and in gratitude,  gratitude requires practice.)

because even they don't use consideration in the kitchen at work putting their dishes away nicely.

which is pretty fucking depressing, since i have offspring.

the flip side is, whatever.

tonight, man scream. not urgent. no cops to be called.

peaceful on 21st street.

what happens when i sit on the yoga mat

crosslegged.

humility.

gratitude for this body. these eyes behind these eyes.

that's it for the mission update. monday, memorial day.

day 60 ish

neighbor said hey what happened to that cactus flower?

she was pretty sure someone yanked it and put it in their garden box around the corner.

and my keys are sticky.

moon is almost half again, sweet moon.

and the other day this dog looked at me like it knew me.

hear this not sticky keys.

your bare feet are on the soft earth, your eyes are closed

your body is healed, your spirit softens and guides you, holding you, smiling. you are well, you are whole. you are amazing, infinite love.

the moon is an eyelash. witness.


because music makes you feel no pain

haikus for car alarms

the judgemental mind
(what other mind is there?) says,
'your kind will die out.'

'someday, when we choose,
or evolve to seek only
potent measures: quiet.'

satanic verses

we are creatures of air, our roots in dreams and clouds, reborn in flight, goodbye.

i related to this character's romantic farewell

wild geese!

really. they flew over this morning. early.
and the white vans. move em up a little, reverse, up, back.

Wild Geese, Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

leaf blowers!

cool sunny day.

cars! buses! kids on the way to school with their elders.

dreams clear and allowing and funny and progressive images.

well being.

getting used to the street. the sounds have died down. it's only been a year.

i hear a leaf blower. morning cars.
the moon rises, when it does, in front, from the porch always a spectacular south facing view.
the guys on the corner are almost finished renovating the space for their restaurant.

lately

lately

receive what is offered

release of me-ism

just listening to talks about stillness (thank you one of three important aries now in my life, at least two of whom love jasmine). so i don't think i have much to add. it's just here.

i shoved the nesting doves off the door frame this morning. they were like, wtf? and moved on.
***
next mroning. they are in the "ehhem" tree. that pleases me. their little eyes are so clear.
not much on the street. clear day, clear like dove's eyes. morning commute. yesterday evening a drunk was pissing near the wheel of one of the white vans, and he starts saying 'fatal attraction' and something about how bad the tire treads are. call for warning. doves and warning. i am rooting for those little nesters, funny how things change. yesterday, eviction, sarcasm, love and release of me-ism. today, work. 

don't pay no mind to the death or broken glass surrounding those magical wings

dammit, what day is it? 27? 348 to go?

what's happening in the outside world? i don't fucking know. something about a shooting and virtual insecurity.

getting jobs.

dinner made for us.

home.

change.

love.

motivation.
heard a few sets of shoes walk by. cars. sliver of a moon. typing lessons and times tables; the inner life of a young one.

blessings we give, receive. glad i don't have a rash, but i do need to get a dermatology appt.

and a hair cut.

you're awesome, man.

i've decided to start counting forward - update on the street

nothin happenin tonight. too rainy. brrr. wintery.

it's raining 

rain makes the garden grow.

day 25

there's a car driving by.

the teacher shows up when the student is ready.

anybody else sick of these gypsies who put ideas in our heads?

do we control our own fate?

warnings, or suggestions, either. i felt like i was an audience member at jerry springer or trying to be saved , as if! 

that's what i always want to say to anyone trying to save me- as if!

anyhow, idea putting gypsies. topic for this stormy accepting appreciative lovely day.

lightning! thunder! boom!

and how could i have forgotten bob marley?

when one door shuts, another one opens

love hate google. go ahead, psychologcally profile me. try it. no computer can outsmart human intelligence. 

news!!

you can blog and smoke at the same time!

the segway guy tonight ! was playing.... itlaian consertina music! accordion! and he was sort of dancing along on the sidewalk in front of the boys and girls club.
and he inadvertantly got a small following of small dogs and amorous dog walkers!
who knew? must be another side of him we've never seen before! not the usual 80's gangster rap and soul!

one more reason to appreciate this neighborhood and humanity.

time passes slowly

bob dylan. willie nelson. prince. the dils. pj harvey. bjork. sonic youth. david bowie. pet shop boys. yaz. george michaeil. x. alicia keys. tupac. tegan and sara. lou reed. donna summer. cocorosie. anthony & the johnsons. iris dement. dwight yoakam. daft punk. lyle lovett. michael jackson. outkast. lauryn hill. grace jones. bessie smith. too short. coolio. india arie. on and on and on.

stevie wonder, roberta flack. skrillex. (susan, if you are reading this don't google skrillex even if you dated one of the foremost inventors of alternative sound in the early seventies, and we named our cat after him.) modern lovers. leonard cohen. tinariwen. fela kuti. r.e.m. chavela vargas. the black orpheus composer. ones i haven't heard. all of them.

thank you musicians.

day, um, let's just say 342.

sanctuary or sanitorium?

all you want to do is listen to purple rain

woke up grateful for my dream life and my child, black panther and love

cherish

overheard some talk about the sophisticated method of cooking with a fryer, and then a close car alarm- horn style, and then someone's phone talking. oh, it was my neighbor. she's so high tech.

my witch friend talked about her uneasy feeling about fukishima; gonna go talk to the dolphins. and how here ought to be sanitoriums for people who live through traumas so they can escape in safety.

home.

i've been sleeping too well and my chronicling is suffering

wrong blog! reprise

i should be using the other one for this kind of writing.
or, it's basically the same. without the street noise comments.

thoughts become things!

it's been raining, so it's damp out, and it was another quiet night.

love. infinite and boundless.  art moment.

*** basically everything is wrong. there's not supposed to be car alarms or stickers on fruit or fukishima leaking. or malnourishment or monsanto. or unhappiness. oh yeah. right. it's the association with the judgement that creates the illusion of suffering. 

not much going on - tell me you love me, and then go away

i love you too

song for last night

i'm stuck on erykah badu though that album with the trippy blue cover

day 344 if i can count backwards, which is questionable. then what isn't questionable? the rain. the breath.

ugh. there is no street noise. there is inside noise. it's possibly the dryer or heater downstairs. subtle mechanical sound. the fridge. and the hum of this laptop pc. the occasional car in the rain sound. the musics. god they still play men without hats on the radio.
at least it's not kansas.

i enjoy no fewer than three amazing aries in my life right now:  the more you resist pain the more pain you create. http://fractalenlightenment.com/26127/spirituality/turning-wounds-into-wisdom-the-power-of-transforming-pain-into-strength

just want to say something about giving something away and letting it go without expectation of getting it back

it is SO EMPOWERING and SO FREEING
i don't know why

i think it has something to do with creating space

and it makes me smile
as does 'stacks of cash,' and 'love beam,' and 'harumph.'

and at the same time, can you bring back my dishrack???

meanwhile, an old friend (of harumph fame) left the planet. bye girl. loved the way you laughed.

to the rest of you, stay a while with me.

ART moment!

need to get some art supplies. be prepared for a lot of art moments.

restraint!

tonight i got to see the pretty blue lights - the best thing about the new cop.

and had a chuckle to myself:  ha ha! i was nicer! i win.

so, good morning neighborhood! the moon is still out. you get up, check in with yourself, how you feelin today? okayyyyy, good. get up fool!  do it again! this time, with enthusiasm.

for listening, not watching: love.
and
wake & bake retort 

drunk post! yey!

actually i'm not drunk. but i had some drunk thoughts earlier which will probably incriminate me further. day 348. day 17.  (16,143 life days)

first, NO NAYSAYERS. you can just keep your 'bad news' sayin this or that to yourself and let me go on into my magical thinking and step off.

and secondly, you ever be driving and say to that dumbass in front of you, you asshole? and then say, or maybe i'm the asshole, and then laugh. or think the car starts looking like anime?  it's a little pokemon in front of me, that white chevy. hee hee.

on an unrelated topic, tonight my dear friend, yeah, that one, had a birthday, which we celebrated first by marauding. i don't think i ever used that word before. we swiped some jasmine flowers from a - wait, we started the evening buying dimsum and a crowbar- and then we overtly stole some jasmine blossoms from someone's front yard (for hair decoration!!) and then, we went to the beach BECAUSE WE LIVE HERE and made fire, and looked at the red pink orange sun, and then these folks down the way started lighting off sky lanterns, which are my favorite (and i will never finish this sentence, so you can just forget about it), and i said those are west coast fireflies.


fuck, who turned the heat on? it's 62 where is the little circle symbol on this keyboard?  that aries friend and her little posse. the realness of our illusions. or vice versa.

it's a maybe day

science fiction, double feature

there's this little bird now in the hood. every morning around 6 it goes chirpity chirpity chirp trillllllllll

TURN IT INTO ART!!! (too many, not enough)

that rich push and pull
the nights have been undisturbed, mostly, just the loud loud trash trucks and the whistler (girl from epanema) and the other singers. no need for ear plugs. we sleep.
and bessie smith quietly from the porch.

foggy morning.

graffiti wants me.

that night, last night, this night

that night was the worst sound
the sound that reminds us like recent post but negative that everything is possible

you make your life

last night's theme (after recycling) was 'race for survival'

this night, land. the land we inhabit

got home from a nice walk on the hill, beautiful night, quiet, lovely, and there was a candle burning on the porch. a little light from a friend.

there's this one guy in the neighborhood, he must live here too. he's young, like me, he has that always drunk look, even when he is probably not. there goes the shopping cart sound, and the guys on cruiser bikes with no lights, and the single people, some with six packs, some just walking home.

the older guy on the segue (segway?) came by yesterday with his boombox but i didn't catch the song.  you know he's been around. did not see whether or not he was carrying his puppy.

the skateboarder.

mysticmamma.com

day 354

perfect day  
you're going to reap just what you sow.
(lou reed sings this with luciano pavorotti, which reminds us that everything is possible ;)

just read that it takes 17 seconds to manifest something, positive or negative.

this morning, fog horns, white vans, sun.

last night, drunks on the stairs i thought about turning on the porch light but they were pretty chill. we get our share of characters. yesterday, tommy somebody, 65, painter's clothing, in great shape. had a good chat with him about eating one meal a day like they do in africa. staying fit.

and the friends in the east bay said their house had street noise too.  innocence of youth.

let"s read this

the cosmos

and listen to this

queen, save me

the moon is out. round and round we go.

day 356, the car alarms aren't bothering me!

i heard something, a conversation that sounded sane, and a loud vehicle of some sort, but i woke up and said, i choose this. i choose this.
i think you should try it.
then i watched chaka khan videos from 1978.

i wonder how my pisces friend is feeling. we cross in the night. aries is busy this week. virgo, same. leo, same. i could go on. i changed my name. 

day 357 and counting, with some effort

justice.

(what is it? where does it exist?)

instinct. 

yes. but how do you know?

enthusiasm. 

if you can't be awesome, have a sense of humor. 

1. in nature. ? 

balance = justice? time? do all things even out? it warrants an experiment. music seems to contain mathematical balance.

day seven. blank poetry

[



























                                                                                                                                                             ]
true love will find you in the end

day 6, abundance, resistance

here it comes. talking about resistance, anything you are not willing to let go of. shows up as illness.
abundance, for recyclers is that knowing that today they will collect a lot of cans, and caps.
there was noise last night. it was on my steps, it was joyful. i put my ear plugs back in. no activity, except very polite trash diggers and absurdly loud recycling trucks.
i got up early and listened to a talk about vibration/energy/magnetism and polarity. center seeking. the lighter particles move to the inside, the heavier to the outside. avoir dupois.and then i checked out the youthspeaks! website. awesome. getting young people to SPEAK! check it out.urgency and truth, what's in your head. http://youthspeaks.org/arts-in-education/writing-performance-workshops/
okay yey! off to work!
lighten up, beastie boys

thank god. noise.

a young neighbor girl making what can only be described as young girl noises.
people speaking spanish.

then, light rain.

the world is good.
and what you give your attention to flourishes.

my blog is over

i got ear plugs. no noise. well, faint mumbles of thirty somethings. have YOU ever been one of those people, who, innocently conversing as you walk down the street after a good night says to yourself, oh, there are people sleeping here.

dang. now i have only dreams to blog about. oh, it's 859 am, there's that car alarm again.

down with sarcasm!

you guys have a sweet, delicate car alarm. weeeeer weeeeer weeeerrrr. but. it's going off seven times this past two hours. lemme ask you something, how is your car? that thing save it yet? are you saved? and, really?
fuck, don't wanna blow through all my good quotes in the first two days.
so aries bitch recommends playing rain forest sounds all night. i'm thinking, ear plugs. little less to-do.
i was like, is it okay to have a blog about bitching?

my julia child is a 36 year old vegan aries

and she will win the chia contest

day one. i should have called this 365 nights on 21st street, cause that's what it's about. maybe they'll make a movie about it.
the subtitle is: HOW GOD IS PUNISHING ME FOR CHOOSING THE HETEROSEXUAL LIFESTYLE.
okay night one: i wake at 4:15 am to a series of slightly unsafe sounding, melodic hollers, building in level: HOOOOOO! OOOOOOOOOH OOOOH HOOOOOOOOO! someone is being mugged or otherwise assaulted. goddammit. alright. i get up, walk out onto the front steps and look down the street and shout, are you okay? two people's forms are walking away from each other. no nothing. no screams for help.
my neighbor shouts out the window, are they okay? i guess so, sigh. 

night two. i am dreaming, not of 21st street but of somewhere in the other california, oak trees, dry grassy hills.12:51 am  i hear a car alarm, a good close one. and a man and a woman running, fighting, he is chasing her. crying. car alarm shuts off. running tapers off. yelling quiets.  good. drama concluded.

2:15 am, POW! CACKLE! CRASH! kids (?) are shooting trash cans. or each other. paint guns, is what comes to mind. then SMASH! breaking glass. they are throwing bottles. great. i want to yell 'sleeping!' but i don't. don't wanna fuck with teenagers.

2:51 am: one of our neighbors must have traumatic stress disorder from living in minnesota and they feel the need to turn their car on and let it warm up at all hours of the day and night. and they don't use a muffler.

i tried recently to change my mind about the noises here. you know, instead of crickets and frogs like my friend hears in sebastopol, we get car alarms, and digging thru recycling bins.  one life, gotta enjoy the fuck out of it.