time for blogging

The good news is, I haven't watched TV in a very long time. The issue is that I am supposed to write a lot of reports for my work, and I keep drifting around on the blogs; barstools, theological/emotional meanderings, reports of life during divorce, then I get yelled at because I don't comment, then I get pissed because no one comments on mine - wow, Blogging really is like a high school click. There's the international blogspot crowd, the sensitive Xanga crowd, and then the frighteneing, no-way can I try that facebook addicts.

So this IS A POST. I will not (as some friends have tried) put torrid, mildly nausiating stories about foreskins here, nope, non of that.

I could resort to inviting lurid tales of erotic encounters in hopes of building readership.....but then I might have to start, and I'm a little too shy for that, even in the blogesphere!

airplane poetry

number 1

Bumpy tiny plane
Thrill of acceleration
Crying baby, right behind me
Close seats
Cramps, headache, popping ears
And yet,
And yet,
Excited to return
Comfortable with being loved
Ready to work,
ready to notice everything, absolutely everything
Bumpy tiny plane
Crossing the Atlantic
Taking the shortcut to reach the sunrise

#2

Taking destiny by the balls
Writing the script for myself, my whole self
Writing with a knowing that this is right, correct, better than OK
Breathing deeply and not running away
Messy, sloppy, never tidy
Life


third

Chocolate

darkness
warmth
nerves shimmer
eyelids are thick, heavy
gentle roar in the back of my throat, the top of my chest, my soul
wrapped in arms
dry grass
headlights revealing
time sliding
breathe on my neck
hands on my arms
a smile won’t leave my lips
tasting comfort
knowing
warmth

crazy shit

ok, so I saw quite a few people today who have known me since I was 11 years old. Some I haven't seen in 20 years but that doesn't seem to matter. Most people were speechless when they heard about my imminent divorce, but now the cat is out of the bag and a whole new segment of the people of my life know that my marriage is ending. There was actually a bizzare bit of time spent catching up/hanging out/talking with the man who was quite possibly my first head over heels crush. It seems that his wife left him a few years ago, he has 4 kids, and is an actor in LA. The bizarre part was realizing the simple fact that 25 years after a child hood crush, it's conceivable I could go on a date with him. He gave no indication of such a thing, it just gave me pause to recognize that it was within the realm of possibility. crazy shit.

rain in edinburgh

Walking in the rain. the rain. the rain. I've always been told about the UK rain, never understood what it meant to have a constant stream of drizzle until today. At home we have storms, the come crashing down and they move on, more may follow, but always in deluge/refuge cycles.

Melancholy everywhere. My goal? Be silly, be happy, be awake. Notice things again. Perhaps the rain, perhaps the bright colored umbrellas, perhaps only the way my eyes are drawn to certain people and not others.

Music informs so much of what I feel. This morning (at the outragously early hour of 8:30) I walked to a meeting, in the grey, listening to Audioslave on my ipod. It changes everything to have a soundtrack. Now, just now, as I sit in the pub, there is a song - I don't need or want to name it, but it evokes heart break and unfulfilled aching to be with someone from the past. A poem I recently read, something about an oaisis from a desolate dryness...It evokes this same feeling of craving something that you will not allow yourself to believe in.

Being away from my beautiful, vibrant, silly, and proud girls has added to my lack of grasp on the light and lyrical aspects of life.

I'm afraid that I've adopted an akward lilt to the cadence of my voice. Too much time absorbing the voices of the locals. I know in my soul that it sounds quite absurd, if I weren't so embarassed to be American, it might be easier to relax into my own speech pattern.

I'll be flying home tomorrow, a long day of travel, via London Heathrow, never been there. Home with my girls for 6 days, and then back to Scotland for another week.

to talk

I'm not sure weather it is being in the UK, being away from my kids, or being newly liberated, but conversation has been a delightful past time. In fact, I have discovered that simply sitting and talking about science, the theory of relativity, the nature of genetics (yes that WAS a pun) or even reminiscing about the 80's hardcore scene in NYC, this has been a banner week for stimulating conversation. I had forgotten, I mean genuinely forgotten what a blessing it is to simply talk. Why so significant? I suspect it is because there is such a part of conversation that has been calculated for me over the past few years. What was OK, what was too "smart" what was not smart enough. Somehow, this week, I have indulged in speaking my mind without a fear of appearing "less than" some ideal I had of myself.

It has meant asking questions as they pop into my head, foolish questions that help me get to know a person a little bit. It has also meant debating e=mc2 with a significant scientist, over a pint in a pub of course, because this is Edinburgh, and every good conversation I have will need to be over a pint, in a pub.

There have been stimulating conversations about my work as well, and the work of others. Perhaps it is the nature of the fringe festival. We are all here to experience and experiment - so conversation is required to make sure we can touch base with reality every once in awhile.

It is friday night, and I had the distinct pleasure of sharing sabbat with an old friend and his family in his flat here in Scotland. It led to conversations about the value of slowing down, setting aside time to simply converse, without goals, obligations and duties. I can't begin to claim an understanding of the Jewish faith, but I can tell you that the idea of choosing not to be productive in the material sense for 24 hours each week, it is mind bending in it's simplicity and it's value.

Thursday in Edinburgh

I haven't been here in awhile (the blog, not Edinburgh).

This morning I saw the sunrise over architecture that is older than my home country. This morning I walked from pub to pub in the old town looking for a place to have "just one more". I will insist that this was a date. A good old fashioned, buy a girl a pint and take her to a show date. We, in fact, went to two shows, and had far more than one pint. My companion is delightful and thoroughly smitten with a very lucky single mother back at his home, which is not his home but only where he lives. I get the distinct impression that he hasn't found his home just yet.

Surprises found in music, honesty and humor.

Walking briskly home in the bright morning sun of 6:00am, down the city streets of a foriegn land - this has been an evening for the soul. Nothing about it that I would change. I was even treated to s Scottish brawl at the Mexican bar requiring the bartender to leap over the bar (using my shoulder as a catapult).

There is far more that I muse about, and much work to be done. So coffee is the priority; not blogging and smiling about a sweet night captured in the shadow of a castle.