On Wondering if You Have Dodged a Bullet or Lost the Love of Your Life

The past few days have involved a lot of dancing, amazing conversations, and wrestling with furniture.   I've been reminded that all of the beautiful and complex minds in my life are exactly what I need at any given moment.  These conversations just continue to affirm that it is best to be who you are- always and boldly- in an unapologetic fashion.

(It's not my concern that you don't understand my gender, my inclinations, my high heels and tie wear.  I see you.  Your widened eyes and quickened pulse, coming at me: a finger fascinated with the blades of a propeller.

(pause)


Around this time last year, I was in a class learning about oxytocin. This time around, I am a graduate once again and ready for the next step in this dirty-clean forest.  I am both nervous and excited about it.  I look forward to floundering and making atrocious mistakes so that I may get better.  The art of saving face has long since been abandoned:  There is no thrill to it.  Look like an ass for a while.  You'll feel the burn of your face, the beat of your heart, the thrill of the lesson. Save the perfect masks to hang from walls. They simply are not worth the lessons you lose by wearing them.

(pause)

As per usual when the sun comes out, I am covering myself with the pages of books scribbled with thoughts and prose.

Book wise, I've been reading David Sedaris' newest book and it cracks me the fuck up.  His observations are so stark, accurate and deadpan.  How does he not laugh at his own jokes?  I must study him if only for this reason. (I'm listening to the audio version because he reads it.  I've always loved his cadence and delivery).

I appreciate that the latest book is made up of a series of diary entries from the 70s through the 2000s.  Within his stories, there are threads - single sentences- that breathe the beginning of the AIDS epidemic. He talks about his father getting weird about him drinking out of other people's glasses in a way he isn't with his other siblings. There is no pain in his voice or words- it is stated simple and matter of fact.

 I've been thinking a lot about how the things one witnesses, reports and does day to day can matter in a way one is not aware of in those exact moments. Best to think that everything you do matters. What you are a part of in this moment you can only begin to imagine.


So begin to imagine.
 









be well; be loved,

k.


(image: via crystal-black-babes tumblr)
(title: slight wink to the embarassing fact that I, admittedly, can't get the Zayn and Taylor Swift song out of my head.  I have been watching this choreography video for the past 3 days and am not stop dancing in the same outfit as the first woman who dances. See it here if you are curious. )