milly befriended a stranded star whose rays five languid fingers were,

:::: the only representative of today photo available::::

wednesday: popping advertisements & cassie's jaw dropper post.

... so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,

tuesday: sister-love & fellow-love

.... went down to the beach to play one day,

monday: beach-party & a party-party

my first line.

taken somewhere between the pacific ocean and the salton sea.

last free place.

slab city.

location: slab city
temp: 120
4 hours each way, 8 hours total.

happy fourth.

paint(ing) the town red.

birthday,
girl friends,
making eyes,
hot, hot office,
guy friends,
carmeli,
fashion district,
hollywood,
writing,
reading/sleep.

blue skies.

first favorite image from summer.

:::: colorado this weekend.

bienvenida a tijuana
bienvenida mi amor
de noche a la maana
bienvenida mi amor

bienvenida mi suerte
a mi me gusta el verte

de menos, amor.

slow burn.

corona del mar, ca.

long day.

costa mesa, ca.

A Spiritual Woman
D.H. Lawrence

Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind;
They have taught you to see
Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things,
A cunning algebra in the faces of men,
And God like geometry
Completing his circles, and working cleverly.

I'll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind;
If I can—if any one could.
Then perhaps in the dark you'll have got what you want to find.
You've discovered so many bits, with your clever eyes,
And I'm a kaleidoscope
That you shake and shake, and yet it won't come to your mind.
Now stop carping at me.—But God, how I hate you!
Do you fear I shall swindle you?
Do you think if you take me as I am, that that will abate you
Somehow?—so sad, so intrinsic, so spiritual, yet so cautious, you
Must have me all in your will and your consciousness—
I hate you.

i must always, always! remember.

I wrote this in February 2008, while working at another office .

venice beach, ca.

from exactly a year ago:

every couple hours I take a deep breath, inform my lovely colleague Jodi that I need a bathroom break, walk into the ladies room and slump against the door. Not because I'm sad, or depressed, or moping - but because I am thoroughly exhausted. I steal a second or two to regroup. I close my eyes and visualize unzipping my spine - my tightly bound qualities tumble out - my niceness, my humor, my polite nodding and prim smiling - then I make some faces in the mirror, shake out my hands and feet - zip back up - and go on with the day.

Friday!

sunday musings. thich nhat hanh. tea.

corona del mar, ca.

Lydia asked me to write some about dharma study. So...

Thich Nhat Hanh is one of my favorite Buddhist writers. His work always carries a tone of boyish excitement and pure joy.

From Peace Is Every Step

We can smile, breathe, walk, and eat our meals in a way that allows us to be in touch with the abundance of happiness that is available. We are very good at preparing to live, but not good at living. We know how to sacrifice ten years for a diploma, and we are willing to work very hard to get a job, a car, a house, and so on. But we have difficulty remembering that we are alive in the present moment, the only moment there is for us to be alive. Every breath we take, every step we make, can be filled with peace, joy, and serenity. (chapter: Twenty-Four Brand-New Hours).

You can breathe anywhere, just sitting on your chair at the office or sitting in your automobile. Even if you are at a shopping center filled with people or waiting in line at a bank, if you begin to feel depleted and need to return to yourself, you can practice concious breathing and smiling just standing there.

Each thought, each action in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred. In this light, no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane. I must confess it takes me a bit longer to do the dishes, but I live fully in every moment, and I am happy. Washing the dishes is at the same time a means and an end--that is, not only do we do the dishes in order to have clean dishes, we also do the dishes just to do the dishes, to live fully in each moment while washing them.

my sister visited this weekend!

we:
went to la
went to venice
went to hermosa beach
went thrift store shopping
went to dinner w/friends
took photos
went to dog park
went home.

my sweet summer.

corona del mar, ca.

may, june, july.

photo from berkeley

berkeley, ca.

visited san francisco this weekend.

when the student is ready...

newport beach, ca.

the teacher will appear.

after 30 minutes of meditation I found some joy. When I finally stopped, I started. How often does this happen? When we are open and still the answers arrive, humbly and with out pretense.

I think it has something to with yielding to my deep sadness and frustration regarding my current employment. Thich Nhat Hahn speaks about embracing anger, embracing emotion, the way you would quiet a screaming baby. When I have compassion for myself, great things come to pass.

... also, I have decided to attend California College of the Arts in San Franciso. Amazing!

dawg.

I am listening to NPR Fresh Air w/Terry Gross interviewing Michael Schaffer.... about his book about dogs. I'm reminded of an article I wrote ages ago:

This weekend I attended a blow out birthday celebration for a seven year old… dog. My friend Wendy threw a class-act party, complete with a cake, ice cream, pin the tail on the human – the works. Her dog is a seven pound Maltese named Bella. Bella, like many American dogs, has a sweet life. For one thing she has a better wardrobe than I do –diamond collars, Gucci carrying cases, dozens of sequined tops, mini UGG boots... This particular evening she sported a pin k tiara and a tutu to match. After she blew out the candle on Bella’s birthday bone, Wendy wanted to go around the table and have every guest tell his or her favorite “Bella” story. I looked over at her – she sat there beaming, tears shining in her eyes.

So I got home, still shaking my head. I looked at my dog – a mutt who looks like a mini sheepdog– and felt… well, guilty. Now I look at my Sir Sampson and see not him, but all the opportunities he will miss by being my pet. He will never herd sheep – or snap the necks of waterfowl, as he was allegedly meant to…. He will never lie on the couch of a pet analyst and unload his many worries…. You know, about his terrible owner, and how she doesn’t buy him gold food dishes or a Chuck-It or… dare I say it? Neuticles.

Am I a bad pet owner? Does the fact that I use the word “owner” instead of “Mommy” make that statement more answer, less question?

.... citing facts about the steep rise of pet ownership in america....

Naturally I have questions regarding this situation. Why now? Why America? Are we, US citizens, really so lonely that we need these mute, submissive “companions”? And if we are, why don’t we step outside and meet a neighbor? Why resort to animals?

& so on & so forth. I post this excerpt to bolster my claim that this guy stole my book idea. I wish we had 48 hours in every day, and we were able see through all the grandiose and radical ideas floating through our brains. Maybe when I retire I can patent my various fledgling inventions between golf rounds and adult diaper changes. But for now... back to work.


:::: good thought pushing me : tomorrow is Friday : )