Not until we are lost do we begin to find ourselves--
Henry David Thoreau

Monday, December 30, 2013

untitled


Capricorn lover
or leave her, the decision was
I’m clipping my nails because it’s the only thing
on my to do list
that I think I can actually accomplish
What?
and did we?
accomplish anything.

Something stirred in me
the sugary bottom of instant hot chocolate
from a paper packet
someone found on the shelf
of this house
that doesn’t belong to us.

Use the tea bags twice
because that’s frugal that’s fair
that’s showing that you care
about something, about how wasteful we
are and I dunk it twice
dunk it with fervor because believe
me I’d rather punch a bruise in my thigh
than get up and open another
it’s too much to open another
what if I don’t finish?

I set out to write a story on a stormy day
but I’m getting a Morse code of phrases
phrases that mean more than I’m capable
of writing.

11 guavas on the tree outside shiver in the rain
the tank is full, beyond
and spilling over. We have an abundance
Of water.

Everything is changing and everyone I know is changing
It’s unsettling.
I feel age all around me
I don’t want to grow old.

2013 in a Blogshell

Another year has grown up, expanded and begins to fade.  There is a storm outside my curtains, rain, lighting, thunder, the works.  I am contemplative and in awe, perhaps more this year than any other before it.  Life is unexpected and I am shocked continuously with everything that I must learn, haven’t learned or learned seemingly by accident.

Thinking on writing this blog post, I tried to remember January but it seems more than 12 months away.  It seems long ago, in a distant land that is and isn’t home.  I suppose I’m always in awe by how much changes in a year.  As with every year, I will try my best to do those beginning months justice.  I don’t have my journals so I’ll get no help.  It’ll be an interesting illustration of what I think are the brightest, hardest, most memorable bits of 365 days.  On y va!

January:  New Years Eve and the beginning of a much too long saga of distrust, hurt, jealousy.  Known in the gut and admitted aloud.  I soldier on, stupidly, regardless.  This is the beginning of the end of our relationship.  Meanwhile I dream of school, of getting out of PTA, of everything that is comforting and yet, not enough.  I want more.

February:  Relationship is rocky and will continue to be despite best efforts.  Make a very cute video involving a Ernie puppet.  Makes her cry.  A happy moment.  A photo album too.  Continue to trudge along at PTA.  Still adventuring and going to the beach.  Working and living.  Simple life.

March:  Dad’s birthday, get him a gift certificate from fishing store.  More adventuring on the weekends.  Lots of time spent with friends and girlfriend.  Then an informal call from a professor at the University of Montana telling me I got into the program.  So, so, so, excited and happy!  Nervous too.  Other two colleges—University of Colorado and University of Oregon—also offer me admission.  I weigh my choices.

April:  I make my decision to attend the University of Montana.  I’m excited but also very nervous as my entire life will be changing.  Every day I go to work, I think about how I can’t wait to be back at school so I can acquire the skills I need to a get a job that I enjoy and that challenges my mind.  Also my birthday.  A lawn party is planned but it rains so there are no games to play on the lawn.  Play games inside and have mixed drinks.

May: Make 2 years at PTA.  Relationship continues to be rough.  I’m leaving, things are coming to an end and I feel another has already been taking my place since January. 

June:  Continue to work, continue to be in relationship.  Working and living and trying to have a little fun.  These months are blurry.

July: Girlfriend’s birthday but we don’t spend it together.  I continue to prepare myself for school.  Try to soak up time with the ones I love.  Lots of crying.  Finally tell boss that I will be leaving PTA.  Last day August 1.  Dad and I go 4 wheel driving down to beach.  Very nice.

August:  Done with PTA, never thought I would see the day.  Nice going away party at work.  Boss makes a heartfelt speech, I’m touched.  Going away party with friends.  Nice, bittersweet.  Spend last couple weeks with grandparents and my parents.  Fly out to Montana in the middle of August.  Difficult flight, badly delayed, have to run to gate.  Get into Missoula, catch the Green Taxi.  It’s 100 degrees and I’m dressed too warm.  Get to apartment, feeling alone.  Roommate will arrive a week later.  Girl I’ve been talking with but never met, we meet and she helps me with my errands…getting things for the apartment.  Intense orientation for Journalism program.  I wonder if I’m going to make it.  A trip to Butte, Montana.  What a different world!  I bike everywhere and love it!

September: Classes in full swing.  Getting used to being in Montana.  Hang out with the Journalism grad students the most.  Go to Glacier National Park.  It’s beautiful!  Very busy trying to learn how to be a student again and learning the ways of a journalist.  It’s uncomfortable sometimes.  Mountain biking with friends and hiking too.  Start bouldering.  Buy climbing shoes.  Get a job working at phone-a-thon.  Bring the bling-bling Bre.  I don’t like it.

October:  Getting much more settled into school.  Grad students are my group of friends and we go on adventures together, ie Ghost town.  Mountain biking, biking to Albertsons, getting closer with my roommate.  Fall in love with rock climbing.  Jump off of wall and sprain my ankle really bad, then get very sick at the same time.  Low moment, bed ridden for several days.  Get better, start biking again and top rope climbing.  Love it!  Beers at K House.  Dinner party at my apartment.  It's a hit.  Day of Dead parade.  Good times.  Buy my own harness and belay device. 

November:  Semester is whipping by.  Trying to keep it together.  Lots of roommate bonding time.  Still biking though it’s starting to snow now.  Series of really cold days, -38 with the wind chill.  Still working and really disliking my job.  See Iron and Wine in concert.  Making friends outside of graduate student circle.  Roommates birthday, lots of fun, food and blazing saddles.  Thanksgiving at Kevin’s house.  Nice, mellow, low key.  Start trying HIIT workouts because I can do them from the comfort of my apartment.

December:  Very busy beginning weeks, final papers and exams.  More snow.  Still biking, still climbing.  At 5.10s.  Movie nights with roommate, Titanic and hot buttered rum.  Return home to Hawaii in the middle of the month.  Rachel picks me up from the airport.  We catch up it’s so nice, like I never left.  Lunch at Miyos.  Staying with my grandparents, also very nice, also like I never left.  Good talks with friends and family.  Went out with researchers to Hakalau, pretty cool.  Trying to look for a story for my professional project.  Spent Christmas with my parents and enjoyed myself.  Mom took a few days of vacation.  We hiked part of the Ala Kahakai trail and it was wonderful.  Got a go pro for Christmas, so awesome!  I can’t wait to do some sporty things and shoot some video.  Learned how to tile and I finally, finally opened my eyes.  This is the biggest breakthrough yet. I suppose I was finally ready to see the truth.               

Saturday, December 21, 2013

View


I sit in the back bedroom of my grandparents’ house as I did over 22 years ago.  The view from my window is static, water tank with a liner twice removed, a chain link fence that slopes like the worn back of mule, rusted too, but sturdy somehow.  Everything here, despite its age, is sturdy somehow.

The word processor took my little finger beats and a story of two people talking, talking about something a five year-old would find important, something I’ve since forgotten, though I’m sure it was probably important.

The light, as it comes across this window in the back bedroom of my grandparents’ house is not static.  Every morning there is a new cadence, wild orchids born in the night, project into the sky and scoop up the rising sun in the cups of their pedals.  Solar energy.

The cat, Valentina, with freshly licked fur, balances on the rim of the water tank facing the rising sun.  She closes her eyes and warms her pink nose in the sun.  Right paw slips and dips into the water, she shakes it feverishly. 

“Someday I will write a book,” I think.  “Someday, Valentina, in all her fluffy glory will be world-renown, preserved in my pages, sunbathing beauty, little feline muse.”    

Saturday, December 7, 2013

peek

December is trotting along quickly.  The sun is beginning to open up on the mountains.  Everything is frozen. 

Montana looks beautiful from my window.  I try to catch some of the rays like a house plant.  It's much too cold to go outside, -20 by some estimates.  The day is a beautiful woman I cannot touch, admire from a window on the third floor, but don't dare to touch.

Two cups of coffee are beginning to open up my mind.

A cool river courses through my thoughts, a glacial pool, somewhere in September.  These thoughts are crisp but scattered like the remnant leaves of winter deciduous trees.  It's been a full few months.

I approach this blank page somewhat timidly though I try to pretend to be brave.  I haven't written here, like this, in quite a while.  I think I'm changed. 

The mountains flex, static ripple of muscle brushed lightly with snow, stand akimbo around Missoula like a ring of Paul Bunyans.  I smile, because that's what I heard you're supposed to do when you're overwhelmed, and touch the window.  My hand yelps.  How did the peoples of long ago make it through these times?  We're so fragile now.

Cup three and the train is humming along.  Sometimes writing feels like running with no fatigue, with no wind, with no pain.  Just endless miles of page and new trails all the time. 

I pant and I tap the backspace key.  Edit, edit, edit.  It's slightly haunting.  My steps not as quick as they used to be.  But I'm not a child anymore.  I can't just spit out whatever nonsense comes to my mind.  Can I?

Hello, I am writing again.  Writing for the sake of it and nothing else.  How beautiful.