The Stock of Your Greeting Cards

Lately I have been back at listening to different Hz of sound for various outcomes. Today, I have been listening to 40 Hz binaural beats geared towards focus. What results is a feeling of being in a different dimension. Not a better one nor a worse one - just one that feels markedly different. 

[I pause here to mention that I read recently that 18.98 Hz is said to cause hallucinations of "ghosts" in humans because it somehow vibrates the eyeball or the fluid within it. I have no interest in testing the theory, mainly because much of what I've read also says that it causes a feeling of dread as well. What has this level of sound? An extractor fan, evidently. Well, and the Youtube videos now made to replicate it.]

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I spent a good part of today with a friend of mine and her brother. I asked them questions about what they were like growing up and how their relationship to each other has evolved. It was fun to learn about a loved one through the eyes of their sibling. I studied the similar shape of their eyes as they spoke and looked at each other.

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I've recently tried my hand at investigating Macbeth, again. Word on the theatrical street is that Akira Kurosawa's Throne of Blood (1957) is the best filmed adaptation of it - setting it in feudal Japan. It is on the docket. 

In the meantime, if you haven't gone to see Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, I highly recommend it. I will keep this from being a film review. All you'd need to do is look up Jane Schoenbrun and it will prepare you for the dreamy, genderless meditations on being and attraction and becoming that they tend to make. The films create a feeling of an ineffable moment: Something that feels groundbreaking but simultaneously deeply familiar in the way that a long-forgotten dream resurfacing does. 

 

 

be well; be loved,

k. 

 

[image by Mohammad Alizade]

The Communication of Channels

He told me that he didn't believe Aura would want to see me going around all of the time in a black mourning suit.  Gesturing at the photographs of Aura all over the apartment now, the tailor said, I can see from her eyes and her smile that your wife was full of life, Francisco, and I know she wouldn't want you to drag yourself down like that, showing such a heavy sadness to the world. Can I recommend a charcoal-gray wool? It's dignified, but it has some lightness to it. And he opened his book of fabric samples.

                -From Say Her Name by Francisco Goldman



Facts, at times, surface in my dreams.

It would have been Megan's birthday a few days ago.

My dreams remind me of seasons I would prefer, at times and in some ways, to forget.

It's not a betrayal; It is a reminder of honesty.

Of lack

of loss

and of love.

(pause)

I've been beginning and completing things today and this evening, as need be. A check list existence of necessary movement.

Although lately I feel like someone getting a running start on a bullet they know will be shot at them 25 seconds in the future, I still feel productive:

My success tentative, but momentarily existent nonetheless.

For now,  I have given up on anything too intricate and laced to future. I have been enjoying the present day that has loose ribbons tied to an untrustworthy bird that has a sign strapped around its little neck that reads "FUTURE BOUND".

It feels better this way. More present. More doable. It's no surprise that I am able to get things done a bit easier since this has shifted.

In other news:

I've been funnily accepting the warm and cool tones that have been surrounding me.  The golds, the greens, the blues. Allow the crystal slipper'ed foot of her majesty the sun to click the sidewalk, and all one can see is her gold. How she somehow manages to illuminate the blades of grass until your eyes water, and electrify the sky until you are certain you are staring at the sparkled swirling dance of the most clear and churning ocean.

May we all find what fits, and get lost in the depths of it all as we do.


Be well; be loved,

k.

(image: Miles Van Rensselaer via cosmicclusters tumblr)