scrap paper treasures

i rode my bike through the cool autumn air and came home to a house full of flies. now i sit here, wearing my night like a gown, smelling of pheromones and drinking chamomile tea. i am the goddess of the flies. i came home tonight granting them eternal life.

a sleep deprived host and an insomnia induced house guest

not on drugs.

at home with piano, jewel, bunk beds, and a cup of chamomile tea.

hello readers. friends. peace monkeys.

i've been wanting to update for a while. last thursday was beautiful. before i left denton with my car packed tight with yarn and records, i sat with a handful of my friends and ate some delicious food and felt at home already. i think you are all so beautiful and amazing.

so i'm living with my parents again. i really like it so far. i sleep three feet from an old piano where i am learning beethoven's moonlight sonata and can bang the keys late into the night. i guess i don't really do too much banging though... its a soft song so far. I sleep in a bunk bed that I have decorated with tapestries and pillows. I'm about to curl up in my reading nook to write Monet a letter and read a short story. I'm sitting in the "game room" of my childhood, drinking chamomile tea, writing this blog, and feeling like i lost the ability to express myself.

one thing i love about this arrangement is that i get to have sleepovers when in denton. so... if anyone is up for a house guest, let me know. we can cook food and remember how happy we are to have been apart of each others lives.

shit

where did i go?

the absolute

complete acceptance of what has come and what is to come. no animosity towards any person who has ever entered my life, but complete love and acceptance and understanding. the realization that we all do the best that we can do. the eagerness to learn everything that my brain can absorb. this explosive excitement to live as beautifully and as freely as possible with forgiveness and understanding at the forefront of my heart. this lasting desire for exploration. the certainty that my childish wonder will never fade.

the cloud has passed. I have felt this way since 7:20 yesterday evening when i got off of work early and watched the sun go down.

on an important note

today marks my 10th menstruation anniversary. That is right... September 4th, 1998 I started my period.

in good condition

like a pearl in slippery hands, every sweet memory i grasp slips away with this sea of bitterness inside me. pumping steadily through me is a constant reminder of what we lost. i hate it. this isn't me. it is resentment guiding my every breath, watching carefully over me as i try to struggle free. i'm sure it will fade. its current will die down and my gems will once again be secure.

then i'll head west.

i'll climb up that shapely rock in Utah where we watched the sun set behind the snow capped mountains.
or i'll dig through the leaves at the base of those two redwood trees where I napped for hours
i'll scoot to the edge of that isolated canyon where the rattlers never rest.
maybe i'll put on harvest and search through the canadian flatlands.
or i'll stare up to those mountain dwelling glaciers that disappear in the winter's fog.
i'll sift my way though that rain forest, which keeps those pacific waters company.
i'll even check that misty cow pasture in the rolling hills of Idaho

then i'll remember to head south again to new mexico. i'll drive down that bumpy dirt road in those hidden mountains. i'll travel past that busted up old van, and i'll make way down our car made path where those bright white trees meet the pine.
there my heart will be. just as i left it.
sitting by the campfire.

hello light. life. sparkling windows and chicken and rice

i'm housesitting in bartonville right now. My old beloved friend, canine partner in crime, Kodi, is passing away. I am taking care of him as his pounds shed away and his limbs grow unsteady. I carry him around the house with me, to the front yard, and tuck him into his doggie bed to feed him crushed ice, freshly sliced turkey, boiled chicken with brown rice, and handful of vegetables. my sweet comrade, sophie's male equivalent, i will miss you when you finally wander.

"your pain the the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. and could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy. and you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. and you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief." -Khalil Gibran

today at hilltop montessori school

there are times when everything builds up so fast. nothing will take its own shape. everything is rigid and painful. gathering the will to read a book or write a poem or sleep or breathe or walk or cry or reach out seems impossible. it becomes too much. it comes from no where. though it is one of the most terrifying states,it does not gain a response. it gains my complete inability to respond.

me as mass, a vast expansion of nothingness, full of lazy confusion and inability. inability to perceive. inability to cope. inability to feel. inability to breathe. truly.

as i lie spiritually motionless, a friend claps her hands around my senses and giggles to her beat. as suddenly as I was barred, those sharp reverberating sparks break through layers of inability as if it were as easy as popping a bubble, and then she points in me at my illuminated seed of possibility.

i let life take its form, allowing its abundance to pull me up. i stand. shaky, but able. breathing, i bless those children's cubbies with a a heart full of sincerity and longing.

here is to the southwest and here is to five years

there is a fullness that i want to share. this bliss, formed of clay made from the particles of life, is feeding my passion and filling up my being. let me place it in any empty spots you may have. i would mold it perfectly for you so you could feel the light weight of freedom.

this fullness came to me straight from this dry red ground, where buried secrets lay, waiting to be nurtured by a needy spirit, brought to life, and freed from the bounds of memory, now able to dance in this beastly desert wind.

this fullness, embedded at the base of my heart, lights up my spirit and makes it ready to chase after those crusty mountains that scrape the soft blue sky where hope trickles from, encircling my purity and protecting it from the tainted asphalt of human fears.

this fullness, echoing off the racketing tracks, makes me want to hop that west-bound train and travel far into the depths of youth and wonder, escaping the acquired cynicism that comes with aging disappointment. when i am old and dying, youth will be so deeply embedded in my spine that i will light up with its wonder even after my spirit is just another secret buried in this desert land.

last night in the teepee

harmonious isolation,
absence of longing,
vibrant colors and vibrant thoughts.
under the stars
the wind is restless, brewing.
tomorrow i will feel lost.
tomorrow i will feel scared.
tomorrow i will feel that the world holds no meaning.
that i hold no potential to change tomorrow.
but for now
the moon is bright
and i am here, fully present, feeling the world's cold hands at my back.

we should

help each other. become better. stronger. less socially awkward. instead of isolating, hurting, passively dismissing. we should work on being better. better friends. better listeners. better livers. better dancers. better conversationalists. better roommates. better walkers. better talkers. better better better. lets work on pushing each other up. lets work on loving each other. lets. be. better. at. being.

sometimes i wish i were someone else

and then i think about a few things that make my heart smile...

ridiculous evenings


the beginning of something grand


falling inlove


sort of wishing we were joined at the hip...


too much to say

to a friend who doesn't read my blog, but to a friend nonetheless.

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can't move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can't breathe
And hope someone will save me this time
And your mother's still calling you insane and high
Swearing it's different this time
And you tell her to give in to the demons that possess her
And that god never blessed her insides
Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things
And crawl back into bed to dream of a time
When your heart was open wide and you love things just because
Like the sick and dying

And sometimes when you're on
You're really fucking on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to
And you'll show up for work with a smile
And you'll be better
You'll be smarter
More grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you'll be awake
You'll be alert
You'll be positive though it hurts
And you'll laugh and embrace all of your friends
And you'll be a real good listener
You'll be honest
You'll be brave
You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful
You'll be happy

Your ship may be coming in
You're weak but not giving in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below
Your ship may be coming in
You're weak but not giving in
And you'll fight it you'll go out fighting all of them

a funk has settled over ****Panhandle on this beautiful evening

i need to focus on growing. creating. friends. some school.
i need to have some integrity here. self-awareness. courage. fear. doubt. sadness. happiness. more fear. excitement. art. sewing. routine. spontaneity. giving. loving. learning. growing. authenticity. caring. truth. reality. still more fear. anxiety. complete strength. compassion. loneliness. realization. campfires. courage. courage. courage. fear. laughs. love. openness. vulnerability. twigs. friends. fears. strength. achievement. self acceptance. striving. striving. striving.
for no other reason that it is what i need to do.
i love this world, but sometimes i don't know how to function within it. it isn't conducive to my explosive feelings and creative flow. fuckkkkkkkkk. frustrating.
i basically just don't want to study, but really want to make something pretty.

job interview

hate to be a hippie, but i was on the phone with my mom earlier. i was freaking out about the world and myself. in it. she reminded me of a letter i sent her after i had a terrible job interview at the cupboard. when asked to describe myself, my strengths, my weaknesses i couldn't think of anything other than standard worldly "dedicated" bullshit you toss around in job interviews. when asked what my favorite book was i couldn't remember a book i've read since ramona the pest, which i read in fourth grade. i left feeling like i had the wind knocked out of me and my entire sense of self and identity were evaporating with it. so, when i got home i wrote my mom a letter about the whole experience, then i gave real answers to the questions. i read it today and felt grounded and comfortable in my skin. still scared, but glad to know who i am. not that i am any certain way, but just that knowledge. knowing. this is a pretty cheesy entry. this is what i wrote:

About Me:
I love helping people. I love my family, my dog, my cat, my friends, my stripy square pillow. I love learning. I am a hard worker. I am sensitive. I sometimes take things personally. I am an artist. I strive for health. I love the earth, I love my body. If the world is a canvas, than I am still caught up making my own brushes, contemplating how I plan to paint my perceptions. or better yet, what my perceptions even are. I am an activist. I believe in standing up for things that are important. I am in tune with my body. I love giving. I love interaction. I love sweet stories and sad songs. I make goals. I change my mind. I am a striver. I am a searcher. I try to see the best in people. I try to operate from a place of love and compassion. I try to admit when I am wrong. I love kombuchas. I am a transcendentalist. I try to be a good person. I try to be true. I try to be love.
My weaknesses:
all of the above.
My strengths
all of the above.

my head is exploding in a good way

I'm excited about this semester. I have my hands full though:

1. getting the North Texas Artists Resource Collaborative off the ground. We are basically building a nonprofit organization from scratch and creating an art co-op in denton.
2. organic chemistry tutor
3. president of this social activist group. we are a group of 20 girls and we're possibly creating a bill a presenting it to legislature in Austin. we haven't really figured it out yet... it is a school thing
4. starting a zine with my gurls. i'm really excited that i'm in on this.
5. starting a natural house cleaning business with Joanna and Irene. again.... super exciting
6. swsa. still an officer
6. school
7. life. art. wonderful awesome things.

I do this though... I like feeling a part of a community and really contributing to it. i love everyone. seriously. my life is better now than it has ever been. thank youuu.

a billion high fives

casey

i am head over heals in love with every single one of my friends

top 3 happenings from this week:

1. indian food ladies night
2. watching sophie not be sad at the lake
3. last night. everything.

mannnnnnnn. i'm soooooo feeling great right now. peace, love, chipmunks, puppy breath, bran muffins.

casey