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ok crazy how life just finds a way. and continues to find a way. this is another thing i re-realized

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i think i just discovered the power of eye contact and my life is forever changed

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bruh

wtf... tumblr finally granted me access again... revolutionary... or maybe cursed

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shit is hard! i haven’t felt that glow of summer when you know you’re working hard or emotionally growing and stretching into one side of yourself or another. going back and forth but feeling the sun on your back and knowing it’s goodness. long days that are filled up with walking and sun to keep company and joy and the relief of the bed at the end. i love that feeling! and i want it and crave it. i’m excited to be in toronto for 2 days.

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montreal all melty and beautiful in the spring, a relief

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a warm winter: selenite, small neck scarf, turtleneck, leather gloves, a good hat

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i look for blue and golden, only

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miss you , miss me when i’m grumpy.. get further away from the mood on the solstice.. read the writing about me that feels like it’s so heavy and carry it with me the past month.. last night stay awake because i can’t stop thinking about what i would say to E if i was given the chance to push him up again a wall at a show or someplace loud, where yelling into his face would fade against the background noise.. want to crawl back to bed. im missing working myself down and recovering even though it left me nothing else. today, after all the days of nothing, is when i have an urge to pick up a pen or a paintbrush. 

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i want to live deliberately !!!!

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exactly what reading that last post and jumble of thought and words feels like from the other side.. with a little more clarity.. i like it. i like knowing i have myself, i hold myself, always. from every side of things. 

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not in my drafts this is coming to u real life insomnia 3am but feels like time doesn’t exist- wanting to get started on my project for this week but not having the energy in my body in the night- instead thinking of the things linking me together, saying, it drives this, she moves she, she makes this because. there has to be a reason, always. thinking about how carrie mae weems said to let the work guide you- even if it’s nonsense, and let everything else follow.

can’t sleep because i’m so nervous about being on the farm! and making something that might feel scary and substantial! i think about the way that my body has been imposed upon- the things it has faced and endured and how thats been affected by the gender i’ve been given. if i was a man would it happen the same way? would i feel the same, and like language was lost to me? no, i don’t think i would. i’m trying to figure out why it’s important - what i need to say. and i know it is.

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i miss this blog!!! why did i stop !!! maybe i’ll post some draft things 

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she said hold your belly like you love it, too

tearing up the loaf 

with hands in the back yard, like some kind of animal

burnt on the outside, crisp and hard, soft and 

dough inside, like me

eat the bread no regrets, a halo over your head 

sea salt ear, rambling and going on with my days 

trying not to think of the expanse of myself against the width of your arm when 

i grab it. love myself more against your 

body, there is no scrutiny

she said jump up and down (i was naked) 

loving more, my bread body, 5 little baguettes stuck together

in my head. she said, you are very warm inside

i think, like fresh sourdough. its the same time she spends 

kneading in the morning 

she does also spend inside of me, on top of me, wrapped against me, baker

and sourdough baby

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feels like there is a lot being unsaid recently 

navigating the space between care and need

mosquito bites behind my knees

craving for connections and making the new

feeling powerful and articulate in conversation when i can

accustom to the sun

packing for montreal

remember i still have to be here for 3 months, and the space is still my own to maintain

crumble and yoghurt for breakfast

learning that time apart is ok, also if she is not love all the time i will not die. learning this will take time

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& also the ability to flip around those methods of care is an important dialogue to engage in w myself.. forcing my hand to comfort when i don’t feel comfortable. the grip of something unopen, and unkind, pushed to the side for something for important and loving, and bigger to make way. to let that take over. when i changed my thinking by changing my body language to julieta, reminding myself what was important, again thinking about something nirrimi had written about having impatience with alba, and realizing its so simple to let it go and remember what is bigger, what is more significant, what will aid you both. today when i come in the door i see my mum on the couch under blue blanket with bucket on her lap and a fan on the table in front of me, incredibly pale, we speak for a moment and then she throws up and keeps throwing up. all water. i go to her and rub her shoulder while she’s heaved over, just as i had done the whole day on julieta’s back in the park. and it didn’t feel entirely natural but i was thinking of these things, of diversions, of turning the care around in order to forgive and grow, to be new, to be different, and more well rounded, my hand had already given in during the day under the sun and it felt like an extension of that care. i know it can keep growing. taking the pail to the toilet and flushing her sick down just as she has done for me so so so so many times before.