HEY KIDS!

follow my new site.

i'm all about fresh beginnings. in fact, i'm kind of obsessed with them.

this is yet another fresh debut.

MY NEW TUMBLR PAGE.

come join the fun.
it's a new & improved version of my internet self.

i'll miss you, blogspot.
[maybe.]

nocturnus (or, oh! how surprising is this light).

ah, to be reminded that the present is the only time to live. that the decisions we make are both meaningful and not, that the paths we take are both marked and mysterious. time may or may not explain things, and life genuinely may or may not be worth all the painfully beautiful situations we timidly delight in.

up out of the lampshade, startled by the overhead light, flew a large nocturnal butterfly that began circling the room. the strains of the piano and violin rose up weakly from below.
[unbearable lightness of being.]

maybe we're all just startled into existence, blinking defensively at the dust dancing in the light we have been given.

'[there is] nothing more magnificent than going off into the unknown.'
[unbearable lightness of being.]



realizing beauty in slow growth & realization.
[taking deep breaths.]

un painting (or, oh! how friendly the frightful future).

driving home alone in the dark, i finally began to see clearly.

i wonder if not crying at endings is faking bravery. that it might be proper to mourn an ending, more as a quiet and unusual celebration to a new beginning than letting a heart crack a little more under that pressure.

vagabond hearts, do we ever find a home?

answer me, please, universe.

i'm in love with the idea of beginnings. tonight i revisted an old part of my life, but in brand new company.

it was a new reality.

so as i take a breath and finally pass from one stage to another, i'm learning to be at peace. to bid the old a fond farewell, but to look forward to a new vision. one that's just starting to take shape.

i really think - if i let it - it could be quite beautiful.
delicately so.
but beautiful.

default (or, oh! the hidden hallway).

you.

you have two choices. to look away or look closer.

because as much as it pains me to admit it,
your thoughts affect the next path i turn down.

[w-coast/e-coast]

but, as always, there is a hidden third option.

& that is always, inevitably, the one that is chosen.

on future flights (or oh! how dreams burst forth).

why i love my job.

because imagination, although it takes its form & delights in the minds of children, exists even outside of that.

i present to you 826la's city labs masterpiece:

'alpacas from the moon: why polar bears can't swim forever'

a dazzling piece about the voyage of a transgendered alpaca named kris with a non-profit, pharmaceutical side-kick named sonya, from the moon to brazil. they discover capoiera and trapeze artistry, cross deserts, moons, and the great salt flats, all on foot and in a veggie-oil powered van.

endings ranged from blood that will save the world, a pistachio that fought off encroaching polar bears, and more.

i think one of the most amazing things about my time at 826la is my own realization that the boundaries i set for myself are far too small.



that if i can help a second grader bring chicken little's love life to reality, i can certainly bring my own dreams into existence.

beatnik.

the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or a say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'aww!'
[jack kerouac]

recent epiphanies have led me to believe that this - that these people - are the ones i am addicted to.

there is this insatiable need to be on fire for something, to be always searching for something, to never let a mind be at peace. it's been discovered in my life over and over again.

i wonder what it would like to not deny that.

i'd probably be on the streets, huh?

alice.

i need more impossibility in my life.



[defining my rabbit hole.]

i wonder if life really is the accumulation of experiences. of trying to figure out the best way to live.

i think that's true. but i wonder what that means.

deepening rabbit hole (or, oh! how beauty can be dark!)

can there be one too many blog posts about the crest of 2010?

eh.

although 2009 was a wholly heartshaking year, there are a few things i feel pretty pleased about. one is how much i read.

the number itself isn't all that impressive, but the point is that i read. with my outspoken commitment and outrageous love affair with the written word, i thought it time to prove that to myself.

this week is my first week back at my job, and today my fist visit to the library. i am caught up in the wonder that my job thrives on. the imagination that flows through everyone's stream of consciousness.

i hope i'm not being fooled by the spirited feeling 2010 is giving me so far. a week in and i already can sense that this year will be beautiful. days of exploration and friendly fragility have reinstated my belief that there is a higher cause for everything here.

2010 is about all of that: wonder, exploration, joy, peace, imagination, honesty, aspiration, and seeking a higher calling.

so today, on january 6, i added five more books to my literal pile of library loans. jonathan safran foer, roald dahl, lewis carroll, antione de saint-exupery, and truman capote will be my first indulgences of 2010.

alice in her wonderland, i know how she feels.

i'm off to my rabbit hole.
k.