I rarely remember my dreams maybe one in a 50,but this one I woke almost immediately after.  We were sliding towards these copper wires,someone counting down from ten,I started to sing "This little light of mine" we all started to sing and about a second before the big fry I got scared I wondered if it was going to hurt and then I closed my eyes I couldn't bare to watch us die.....and we sang and sang and I opened my eyes and we were all there except we just weren't alive in the traditional sense anymore.

Then one of us spoke up and asked if this meant there was a god,and someone answered nope,as simple as that. 

I remember that poster of the diner with Marilyne and James and maybe Elvis and I always thought that what was missing was Santa and God.

Saturday after noon as I was in the Metro I spotted a fresh strawberry in the corner by one of the seats,it must have fallen out of someone's basket or bag,it looked like it had that fruity sweat on it and was red red red,on the floor,the dirty metro floor it still looked perfect.

Sunday morning I took the same metro and sat in the same seat ,and there was the strawberry no longer the luscious little globe of yesterday but still cute and strawberry like,I looked at it until my stop how ridiculous it was to watch a strawberry on a subway car floor,ponder life,I got off and I forgot.

Then yesterday morning I got on to the metro and I sat in my usual seat,and I shit you not,there was the strawberry. The first thought that passed through my mind was odds are relevent when stuff like this happens,that somehow this was a sign ( I am sooooo cliche),and man do they ever clean the trains?

I don't expect anything from life per se,like Tharlam it tends to lead to dissappointment,like I need more of that,instead I trek along and try to connect with the view

and he was tall and dark ooops am unable to stop,but true nonetheless,and he looked me straight in the eye and dared me to keep the stare and he smiled and it made me feel shy and ready at the same time.

His beauty mixed with the beauty of music,at that point it was intoxicating and overwhelming and energizing,the kind of energy that lets you forget sleep, each color,word,experience becomes stored away.

Years later as I look at pictures of him,look at a man whose indentation of leg and hip set me aglow,that place where hands glide and faces lay,the beauty of a lover's body,the grace and the bliss,I know I am still guided by beauty,still owned by it at times, still able to close my eyes and fill up in ecstasy, keep my eyes open and not feel anything like that at all,as time passes and as with anything it just morphs into something else in my life,nothing is forever,beauty swings between ugliness,emptiness and bliss,marked forever or until my brain shuts down and the memories no longer recall,will I forget my own name? but storing themselves in the molecules that make me up and get ready to move on  to form something else I have been ready and willing for this beauty since before I gelled,I'll hold on to this thought today and walk slowly,I don't want anything from beauty it's more like I need it to survive

Age for me well I have mixed thoughts on it. The number itself is cool I like it that I' am 45 just the number just sounds cool,then so did 18 and I was officially of age well 19 if I was doing the Ontario thing.

Initially I think about what seems to have aged,and mostly it is the exterior I don't look exactly like I did when I was 20. You can recognize me in a photo but it's me older,it's like life redistributes itself all over the human body. Tissue becomes lived in,scars ,stretch marks,freckles and moles,that line where they cut me open twice to birth my babies,the mini scar from a procedure done on the 25 of December bc I had become the neatest shade of yellow. My toes pretty well look like they did 30 years ago feet are funny. The lines around my eyes,the ones that are getting deeper around my nose,my tits,well I just sighed so that sums that up,and my ass well I never had one which is quite a blessing now I am 45 bc it still looks kinda cute.

Sitting on a bed years and years ago,the room smelling like oil paints bc she just didn't do acrylics...another sigh....I felt the same way I do today,my mind does that hooks me up with me earlier on when ideas repeat exactly like deja vu but really viewed and felt. The inside ,the inside,how it seemed to scream to get out,to be unleashed and how that worked for me was it made an exchange with the outside.

I don't want to stay young bc I have lived and living does crazy stuff to me,there is no shame in it, no pride either just an acceptence of who I am grasping it a little better each day,or is it letting go ,or the recognition....now my boobs ,well if I could snap my fingers.........

My parents never dwelled on their childhoods,never used them as excuses,never threw in people's faces, instead the ambition that often stems from adversity was used well,and they both were incredibly loving and successful people.

They were also amazing parents,they needed to be with an autistic son,a second son who found jesus for a bit then became a republican OMG!!!!!!! but still managed to remain a pretty cool brother nonetheless,shout out to my bros,and me.....hmmmm,me the loony expat

It has been my experience that  people who come from adversity like my parents did,extreme poverty,physical and emotional abuse long illnesses ( my mother was in a sanitorium for 5 years with TB),jack up the living factor,it's not always the case but some of the coolest most successful people I know pulled themselves out of a stinky mire.

There was no real mire for me unless you count me navel gazing myself into depression,or the feel of life that happens when you live it,my parents carried themselves with integrity and I felt loved and still do. Where we differ,I lack clean direct focus at times,am not competitive/ambitious to save my life,and have been known to go on over the little things for like forever,I also can also wallow in self pity for hours,who am I kidding for days,and I am not overtly demonstrative with strangers which I think is a good thing,however when you live in a place where you two cheek kiss acquaintances you can come off a little aloof. Fuck I am aloof,aloof and blessed with a potty mouth.

How am I different from my parents I carry around a lot less pain,and that is a testament to how amazing they were.Now where did I get my eyes from?

The strength and weakness thing,I'm not even sure how that works or if it is really an accurate fair description so relative,stuff shifts and morphs so much that I wonder if the whole idea of natural progression hasn't been repressed and in it's place is someone else's ideals.

It is delightful to see something about me or someone that is classified as negative turn out to be a huge positive,we are what we are and I gotta think that the more I adhere to what I really feel the better I do.

I can pee standing up cuz I've tried 

I feel intensely and am real dramatic so I'm not boring....but then again whose going to tell you to your face your boring,but I just know I'm not

I live to have my mind changed,seriously after love and sex and those delicious mangos we've been eating getting a eureka OMG moment is astoundingly beautiful.

I am all about adjectives time to really delve deeper into the thesaurus cuz those delights make all the difference.

I love and it feels like the bestest thing ever,I can love therefore I am human and grateful so very grateful

and this

What is my favorite thing about the night,it does become relative depending on the place I am at. I'm so very influenced by the moment,which makes my favs change feverishly sometimes.

I like the way things look in the dark,it's the discovering of the other side of things,the personality hidden by light,I like the depth that is had with starlight,or even without.

I like the smell of dusk,the roses and oranges that paint the sky,just before nightfall.....then indigo baby

The sacred nectar the night smell,the fill my lungs and let me levitate into your arms kinda smell,even into my own arms,is such the joy that night befalls me.

I am too blended into a one week end in three of two night shifts ,a week end spent surrounded by the familiar and how time is betrayed by the light of day.

Sometimes it feels like that,dawn a betrayal,a night stolen away,the magic set right back into the box as the daily daily takes over and possibility is forgotten,and in it's place the light leads each minute into the next.

Night feels timeless,all stops and the amazing begins,no box for anything I imagine

I know the exact moment when religion became an issue,the minute she stepped out of the car and saw me,tank top and jeans,and these atrocious flip flops I wear around the house. The tank top was pretty reserved by todays standards,only a little cleavage was apparent,and my jeans well definitely not tight,so it must have been my foot apparel.

I remember a conversation with my husband years ago

"Does your mom wear that scarf thing."

" No" i vaguely remember him saying,revisionist history,yet I was led to believe that my non muslim ways were cool with his family and they probably are except she lost her husband less than a year ago,and I lost my virginity,at 16 to this guy who looked Bruce Springsteen or at least I told myself that.....I'm sure Bruce would have serenaded me after, and I like beer on a Saturday afternoon, right out of the bottle,I also like watching drag queen contests and think kissing girls is way fun,although it has been ages,as I have become decidedly mellow with age,I also wear those croc flip flops which IS a fashion crime...........so sue me,secular hausfrau that I am

It does run so much deeper though so damn deep and since she will be staying with us until November I have been approaching her disapproval in different ways. I hold on tight to the loveliness of who she is,an incredibly generous woman who has had a very hard life,coming from a culture light years different from my own......A woman whose marriage was arranged who has experienced the loss of not one child but three,a woman who still gets up at sunrise to address the day and who smiles at strangers. She excepts all of my children including the one that is the same age as her youngest and born of the loins of another man.

She makes these amazing little triangle thingies filled with almonds and pistachios and rose water and then fried,and she makes them especially for me. She hugs me at odd times I'm still trying to figure this out but I no longer recoil in horror and actually have loosened up quite a bit.

I know she does not approve of me she probably never will but how important is her approval and hey I don't always approve of myself but this is making light of some serious shit bc ramadan is here and for all intents and purposes she owns the roost well at least the kitchen,tofu no where to be found and fishes with their heads still on,Moe has just recently stopped having nightmares about the monster fish ,and I just hang around on the periphery chiming in every once in awhile when this whole rule thing goes to far,I can only take so much before my nice hostess ways are left behind and I head for your jugular,she knows this now and treads lightly,and yet still she hugs me out of nowhere,then reprimands me an hour later bc I paint my daughters toe nails,hello I use OPI.

Perhaps what has been the most taxing on me is how this has put a strain on our marriage,how incredibly mad and distraught I became the first month after she arrived,how my husband seemed to side with her I mean wtf taking sides we are adults,so I like to watch Fairly Odd Parents and Sponge Bob I'm a damn adult OK!

How alone and sad I felt and still do at times except he has seen how badly this has affected me and I'm still not sure what I think and find myself counting the days before she leaves,67,and then she turns around and hugs me and holds my face in her hands and I just know she prays for me,bless her,bless us,now who wants some bacon?well maybe not cuz meat bleuk but I have this really yummy digestif that my friend brought back from Ile de Re, and it's gonna be a long month.

Well there is a new movie coming out in Europe, not sure if it will make it over here,it's called Helen,the story matter pretty grim,I'll link it if ya feel up to it,what jingles me ole heart is that it was made with a very small budget,that many of the actors aren't and it was a collaboration between these two people,who were unknowns to me until about 23:00 last night. 

What touches my heart is often the obscure,often the less obvious it carries with it some sort of out of standard body feel, revelatory in it's simplicity. This life is filled with many many many people's visions and some of them are quite fantastic.

My heart thrives when surrounded by creativity,the flow of it plays my heart divine.

I laid out all his clothes last night and he actually had the gall to question my choice,worse yet he refused to put on the wellies I bought him,and opted for running shoes.

" But it's your first day!'

the importance of this momentous occassion flying right over his head and in turn him looking at me like I appeared from some time warp circa the 50's

"Who is this woman and why does she look like my Mom except fifty times more annoying?"

My baby boy has gone back to school and I am not ashamed to admit it,I am RELIEVED!!!!!!!!!!

Yes I am filled with energy for fifty happy dances who am I kidding 100 and then some. I never thought I would be this Mom,I wasn't when Nico was younger but I was also mother to one child and thought all I needed in life I had with my son ,shopping,hello I was 20,partied hearty, had energy to spare, and thought LL Cool J was my soul mate...sigh

I relish my alone time now,I work a full schedule and the few hours I have in the morning are like the most precious of jewels,little sparkly me times that hypnotize with possibility.

Mimi is outta here on Monday so offcially I am conflict,booger,and bum wipe free as of September the 2nd.

There is this commercial on it has been on for like the last hundred years but this year it made me laugh cuz I totally got it. Then the  strange paradox of wanting to grow up and live independently of my parents and being a parent and wanting independence from my children for a wee bit every day,now note to self let your children choose what they want to wear,let them choose,let them choose time for themselves,let them flow in any direction take your cues from that place that doesn't resonate with mommy's voice.

It's not a real question for me it is more of a greeting,and a sucky one at that,does anyone know what to do with the answer,"Not well?"

My friend popping in and giving me a big hug and then looking me straight in the eyes and saying " How are you?" is a real one,it has always been a question of engagement.

as long as it has nothing to do with suburbia we're cool,strip mall dry cleaners and wooded up emptiness,the new neverland, I wonder what Hitchcock would have to say......come let me rub your belly old man

I'm drawn to what I'm drawn to there is no best before or after date