?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous 10 | Next 10

Oct. 4th, 2009

autumn

Voice Post

VoicePost
40K 0:12
“On a Windy day never park your car under a chestnut tree.”

Auto-Transcribed Voice Post - spoken through SpinVox

Oct. 1st, 2009

baby

egads

I shall begin this entry with a sigh.
I would very much like to plumb the depths with this entry, but there are plenty of flowing, current things which I am likewise tempted to record.

The last day or two have been very rich, for lack of a better word, for me. Yesterday, I found out that I no longer have a job at Queen Mary. That was horrible and yet, to be honest, also quite vividly a relief. I'm struggling for money right now, esp considering the costs and so forth to be levied against me on Monday at my pre-trial hearing. While I have money saved, I've watched it erode quite steadily ever since I put Jasper in school, even though I'd had my QM job then and Clinton, however reluctantly, conceded to help with the cost.

Yesterday, a friend suggested I apply for grad school in architecture. For some reason, this idea appealed to me, despite a long time response of nausea to further schooling. Envisioning myself as a grad student and parent of a young boy... somehow I felt relief and pride in myself. I'm terrified of it and I'm trying to continue to turn the idea over with complete honesty for the next few days...

I emailed the department, requesting to speak with a person about the program and potential financial aid... I'm anxious that the email, while well-written, might come across as lazy, since I'm clearly not interested in excavating the information myself from the depths of the UW website... but honestly, I'd like to have a discussion with a faculty member if I could, to get a better idea if this is something I really want to commit to for the next three or four years.

I also have been offered some PT temporary work by two friends/community members. Saturday, I'll make my way to Fay's to begin work; gardening if the weather's not crap, as well as a variety of other tasks. Seems like there's plenty of work to be done... and none of it decidedly awful. It's also the sort of work I enjoy, being able to rescue things, fix things, organize things, having a client/employer who is flexible, reasonable, and directly benefited by my work.

Another friend, John Blunt, has offered me work in his woodworking shop. I'll meet with him Monday to start and get some initial administrative stuff figured out. Honestly, I'm pretty stoked. That would be more construction and assembly of small furniture and lighting, but I think my aesthetic input would be welcome and respected. Also... woodshop!! While he can't assure long-term work, the hours and rate he's suggested are great. The only challenge is that I might not be able to take all of them...

The latest worry is that I'll have some f*cking community service hours to fulfill in the near future. More an insult and inconvenience than anything else. I don't feel comfortable going into too much more detail about that.

Yesterday, I made a second attempt at a hug-rendezvous downtown. While the hug-ee and I were able to meet up before I headed back up the hill, it left me feeling yet another different and challenging-to-decipher feeling about this fellow and our preposition to each other. I observe this [rather annoying] inclination to come to some definitive conclusion about "what's going on". It's easy to understand, with such pressure on each of our interactions and my independent "revelations", why the conclusions can have such divergent trajectories... If not so much pressure were applied, perhaps the conclusions would be not so astronomically different and thus closer to the truth. I find myself trying to adjust my conclusions based on my perceived skewing of reality or hyper-signifying... but that just opens up a can of relativism that leaves me spinning, if not a bit nauseated.

Nonetheless, I'm warmed by something I think is specific to him, and I'd like to see more of him... I'm trying to take my time and observe and clarify my intentions in the meantime.

Are you reading this? I hope you are.

Hmmmn... Allan finished a bunch of laundry for me. Thank you so very much!! Again! I really want to get my house in order... The kitchen is nearly clear of dishes, for the first time in a long time. As is typical, I have silverware yet to do, but I actually fancy I'll finish it tmrrw.

I made another tart. This one is a bit out-there and experimental. I'm actually a tad afraid to try it. I cheated this time and used a frozen pie crust I had on hand instead of making my own. I blind baked it for fifteen minutes... or so; a little while into baking it I noticed I hadn't started the timer. One side slipped down, so I figured it was time to take it out. In went the filling and I baked it for ten minutes more. The filling? Two pears, an apple, half a bunch of green grapes, a small bunch of cilantro, ground ginger and cinnamon, zest of one lime, and agave nectar. Yup. Oh, and a dash of mace. It looks kind of funky, but not too bad. It's like a blond, green version of the traditional "mincemeat" filling. Jasper and I will likely have some for breakfast.

Tonight, Jasper and I went to the Free First Thursday at SAM with Shakti and Sam. While it was a bit hectic getting out the door and getting there... it was a bit hectic being there, too. I was mostly exhausted by the whole ordeal, I think. I was glad to get home and wash dishes. Jasper and I had missed our first bus, as we were running perpendicular to the stop, which sucked. Then we walked forever... I suppose we should've just turned back home, since there's a bus stop right by our building, but I thought we should walk further west, to increase the number of buslines we'd intersect. We ended up just two bus stops down from the one we live by. Ugh.

Tomorrow... hopefully, I'll get to bed soon and be able to start the day off properly with Jasper. He wakes up between 7 and 8am quite consistently. That reminds me of when he was first born, noting with Clinton how I was never again going to need an alarm clock.

Getting Jasper into bed tonight, we talked about the letter J at the beginning of his name, the letter I at the beginning of Idris's, and the S at the beginning of Sincere's. I love that one of Jasper's classmates, who happens to be a really sweet-without-being-dull little guy, is named Sincere. We had to talk about the letter C. I said that Clinton's name started with C... I try to talk with Jasper about the other side of his family with tenderness and frequency. Tonight, I was wondering if Clinton does the same. I have no idea if he's sweet when I come up in conversation, or if he's ever the one to bring me up. It would be nice if he is.

Jasper and I seem to have quite a few conversations about what his daddy likes or disproves of, mostly the latter. I try to be gentle and matter-of-fact. Naturally, the rules at my house are different than those at Clinton's. I can't remember the last point of difference we talked about, but I explained that Daddy doesn't like when Jasper does X and so it might be a good idea not to do it in front of Daddy... oh, it was picking his nose. My only concern is that Jasper's hands be relatively clean when he does it... otherwise, I have no reason to discourage him.

Okay. That's all for now.

~andrea

Sep. 22nd, 2009

autumn

undulating inundation

I sit here at my computer, a cup of nearly tepid licorice tea at my side. I'm tired and I should go to bed soon. Today has been a good day, on the whole, I think. I'm still feeling rather yucky. Yucky things are being said to me in my head. I'm feeling [un]characteristically unable to express myself or, rather, to allow myself to express myself.

---------> I'm going to just dump, I think. I will ramble, I warrant.

A lot of the yucky, I find, has been triggered by the date I went on this past Thursday. I think I know what happened, how I felt, but I can't seem to be able to pin it down in a recordable fashion. Also, mostly because I can't do that, I can't figure out why... It boggles my mind. And I'm very self conscious, in the end.

...Ugh. One of the lines of the yucky script in my head says that no one wants to be around me. It's not convenient to be around me, since I'm not a free radical, being poor and also a single parent in a city. Also... I'm "too sincere", "too vulnerable", "too serious", "too sad", "too moody", etc. Ew.

My good friend [I called her my best the other day when talking to another friend] had her birthday party yesterday and I was unable to attend b/c no children were allowed, for medical reasons on behalf of the hostess. I did go to a pirate party for a two year old neighbor with Jasper. That was fun, I think. I was dressed pretty hot, but felt almost entirely disconnected from everyone. Jasper got cracked out on candy and was not himself. I find myself focusing on the sad/bad parts right now, and quietly imply that there's something wrong with that.

Blargh. Today, Jasper and I got up, had a late breakfast, and then headed out for a walk. It was a gorgeous day out today. That perfect autumn weather that I remember experiencing the first year I moved to Seattle. I wore (and am still wearing) my green and magenta sun dress, with the ruby long sleeve stretchy sweater over it, and my strappy flat sandals. Jasper wore a long sleeve tee and super short olive girls shorts, and his new shoes courtesy of Dad. I had my watch and my house keys, and nothing else. I purposely left my phone behind.

Jasper and I walked up Denny. Some of the chestnut fruits had fallen, some even looted by squirrels, and Jasper and I took note of the prickly green orbs. We continued on Denny until we got to the construction site at 16th. There's an old, grand sandstone church with Easter-y stained glass windows being converted into condos. From the outside, it doesn't look like much is going one, which is good I suppose. The central front pair of doors was open. I scooped up Jasper and cautiously but deftly went in.

It's pretty darn finished in there, so I didn't feel like I was really endangering our safety. The door goes directly to some steps that have open risers, so that you can see the corridor and door below/behind them. The steps, wood planks set on steel beams, give way to a poured concrete floor with two large, knee-high boxes in the middle. I didn't inspect them, but I presume they are to let natural light into the floor below. The space was fairly large, at least two stories high, the ceiling capped with the original stained glass church cupola. This indoor courtyard is looked out onto by six (?) sets of sliding glass doors with shallow balcony on the second floor above sliding glass doors on the main floor.

The light was like being in one of the mostly underground tube stations in London. Spacious and yet capped and filtered. I thought what an interesting human experiment it will be to see how the future residents use their balconies.

Jasper and I proceeded into the unit, whose door was open, directly to our right. This goes first into the open plan kitchen. There's a stained glass window, or the bottom half of one, at the end of the room. There were stairs on the right, two sets stacked upon each other. We went up, where there's a clear glass window carved out halfway up the stairs. There were a couple rooms, a bathroom, I think. We went back down, and then down the lower set of stairs.

What a strange space this led us to! At the foot of the stairs, there was a large, semi-public feeling space to the right. To the left, a very basement-y kind of space; a long hallway with little rooms on the right, prolly for utility and the toilet, and the end of the hall, with no door or door frame, a beautiful white soaking tub against a floor-to-ceiling tiled wall. At the end there, in that "room", with the bathtub, there's a fully tiled shower stall to the left and where the vanities and mirror will be to the right.

Back to that funny public space, you go down a couple steps and into what was likely the main side entry of the church. There's some gorgeous wood paneling (cherry?) that they're preserving, blocking off the Tudor-style curved portal. I don't know if this will just be a receiving room for the private residence, or what. It was all so confusing, esp because all the natural light was filtered, and you couldn't see out! I don't know how well that will go over!

Anyhow... quite an experience! God, I want to be designing spaces for a living, or at least as one of the things I do for a living.

We walked on, took 14th north, which I don't think I've -ever- done, until we got to John. There's a great vista of the Space Needle, which Jasper didn't hesitate to point out. The Violin Maker shop is right there and I thought, what the hell. I've been wanting to check that place out, maybe they're open; and they were! We left our sticks and a block of weathered birch on the stoop and went it. I had no idea it was so vast in there! Another converted space, this one of two commercial spaces carved out of an old, modest mansion. It had a Tudor feel inside because of the wood (cherry again?) wainscoting and finishes.

Anyhow, they let us poke around. There's a ton of instruments in there. I was not expecting it at all. We also espied on them in the workshop where I essayed to teach Jasper the various parts of a stringed instrument. Just getting him to tell it was not a guitar was a big step... hrmmmn. Anyhow, before we left, one gal showed us where they kept the three basses they had. Jasper got to pluck the strings a bit. We left before our not-breaking-stuff luck ran out.

We headed north some more after that. I picked up a huge cardboard tube, diam of about 8 inches?, length some 4ft?, in a little garbage alley way. Jasper wanted someplace to sit so we walked on until we got to the street where Remedy Tea is. There were plenty of open chairs, but none in the sun, and that place is so stuffy... I didn't dare occupy their chairs without buying a $5 cup of tea.

We walked up toward Victrola, passing the barber shop, that Jasper knows for the little toy collection on the windowsills, and Rainbow Remedy, which Jasper knows for their indoor fountain. I sat down on the end chair, with my giant tube, and Jasper soon discovered he could bang on the metal coffee tables with his sticks. We actually made a decent little rhythm section, but I was incredibly wary of being hated by the people around us because of the noise we made. After a good sit, we headed back, walking through the alley behind QFC. Jasper told me it was not for people, only cars, and that we could get hit. True.

We headed back east. Jasper wanted to say hello to the "worker guys" who had sectioned off the intersection. They weren't working, but there was a Roto-Rooter truck out there... Jasper said hello to the three guys having a natter in/at the pick up truck. I again was faced with the dilemma of how coy/attractive/Puritanical I wanted to come across. We just walked on by.

Hmm... I'll just skip to the getting home part. Jasper'd taken a spill and scratched up his knees, on top of the bad scratches he scored the night before at the party. I hurried us a long because of this and the hunger pangs I was fielding. I checked the mail; my prayer flag book had finally arrived. We got upstairs and, when I tried to apply hydrogen peroxide to his owie, he made such a fuss. I resolved to just put him in the bath. Since our "bathtub" is a metal beverage bucket, I filled it and then put it in front of the kitchen window. Jasper stripped and got in.

Last night, after I'd showered, I got Jasper and put him in bed with me. We snuggled a bit and it was nice. There were a couple parts that were exceptionally nice. Once, I was on my side, curved toward him, and he was nuzzling, belly down, into his pillow, face toward me. He had a smile on his face. I whispered, "Are you smiling?" He said, "Yes"

"Why?"
"Because I'm happy"

Awww :)

I think that was when he also said, "I love you so much", which we've been able to say to each other more and more lately, quite genuinely. That's yummy.

The other point was when he was really truly snuggled up with me, using my arm as a pillow, my body curving around his. I started to cry, I was so happy :)

Okay, I think I'm satisfied recording things for now.

Good night, Neverland!

~andrea

Sep. 8th, 2009

autumn

Inner city pressure

So, I'm currently burning the Flight of the Conchords CD.

Jasper and I are getting ready to walk to the library, which should be an excursion and a half. While we were sitting down to lunch, a little while ago, there was a knock on the door.

I'd already noticed that Greg, the landlord, was here; his car [cough:lexus] was parked in the lot. It was him. He said he'd gotten an e'mail from Priya (re: the ongoing noise from my neighbor). He asked if the music had been on throughout the night. I said that I've waited until 3 or 4am to see if it would stop. He concluded that it had been. He said he'd talk to Butch. I said "Thank you".

We got sandwiches made and about a third of the way into lunch.

There was another knock on the door. It was Greg. Jasper and I had seen him talking to Butch down in the parking lot moments earlier. Butch was on his way out, already in his car, and halfway backed up. The conversation lasted for too long :/

At my door the second time, Greg had an unimpressed look on his face. He said smthg about "concessions" needing to be made... by both parties?? He wanted us, the three of us, to meet for lunch, regularly, to air all our concerns, and so forth. He asked if I could agree to this. I wasn't unanimously in favor of it, but consented. He seemed disappointed with my lack of enthusiasm. Aside: Seriously? I'm supposed to be gung-ho for this arrangement? Regular meetings of vague purpose with my uncooperative, inconsiderate neighbor and my unresponsive, gas-lighting landlord. And I don't even know if I'd have to pay for my lunch and I dursn't ask. Feck.

Right, so then I explain the sayd I'm available, Jasper's in school, but I have lunchtime appointments starting at, respectively, 12:30, 12, and 1:30. He said, how about 11? I said okay. So, this week? How about tomorrow or Thursday. He said, how about Wednesday or Thursday next week. Next week are my court dates; one Monday for the criminal pre-trial hearing, the other Thursday for the photo-enforced infraction hearing. And NOW! Tuesday at 11 I'm meeting with Butch and Greg.

Super.

~andrea

Aug. 22nd, 2009

time

many late nights

walesnightengal, your comment on Facebook, saying you didn't know I was a dancer, has haunted me. I keep answering it, every time it surfaces in my head. I came up with a most satisfactory response tonight : Yes, I'm a dancer. I have that movement in me, and I always have... not that having always had it is what validates it.

I am a beautiful, vibrant, resourceful woman. In my current circumstances, I am struggling a great deal. I think, however, that a lesser woman or man would've cracked long ago. The fact that I am struggling is an indication of how challenging the circumstances are.

On Monday, I go to a hearing to face criminal charges for domestic violence. There is some minor basis for this charge, but the fact that it has escalated to this response from the Infrastructure is incredibly surprising, if not unnerving.

Wish me luck.


~andrea

Jul. 27th, 2009

autumn

Voice Post

VoicePost
58K 0:16
“My internet connection has been down for going on 2 days now. If you need to get a hold of ___ please call me because I can't check emails ___ messages etc. Thanks. Bye.”

Auto-Transcribed Voice Post - spoken through SpinVox

Jul. 10th, 2009

screw

Epitaph

I may not have truly loved Jesse, who he really was. Maybe I was in love with the man that we both wanted him to be... But I was in love with him. He answered me; he accepted me and uplifted me. He promised to be with me through whatever challenges or harvests were ahead of us.

One of the most beautiful things Jesse gave me was the dream of a live/work space in which we'd host fellow artists and form a communal hub for see-and-makers. He'd had an idea to reclaim an old warehouse and divide it into studio spaces, an open access fabrication shop, use it for classes and meetings, as well as a place for our family to live. His idea seized my imagination and I quickly set about designing the place.

It was thrilling, and I came up with some of my most beautiful and innovative designs for the home portion of the complex. It was so vivid in my mind: Huge east- and west-facing windows toward the upper perimeters of the walls. A large tented glass sunroof in the middle, to be flanked by garden boxes on the roof. An elegant but industrial stairway up to the mezzanine/second floor where the private residence began. A large private studio for myself on the second floor. A gallery space on the mezzanine, accessible from my studio and a separate staircase from the ground floor. Private glass-topped or roofless studios along the edges of the main floor, under the outline of the mezzanine. A central workshop area with tables, printing presses, and other large equipment. Several-stories-tall gallery walls from which to hang large images and sculptures from the tenants. A grid shelf-wall between the dining area and the living room, with a two sided fireplace at its core, to be used to hold and display our found-object treasures we both seemed so fond of. The kitchen pod was to be in the shape of a ship, walls bowing slightly and made of some delicious warm wood, like chestnut, with rosemary and other herbs cascading down from the top. There'd be an indoor herb garden on it's roof, accessible from a small wrought iron spiral staircase. There'd also be an enchanting figurehead mermaid, I bet. The master bathroom node was in the shape of a nautilus... If only you could see how it looks in my mind!

There's so much more of it... I was delighted by his dream, happy to design it while he was so much better at initiating and then getting shit done; not that we couldn't each do both.

Jesse came in, rolled up his sleeves, and helped me in my home, jumped right in with Jasper, and was rather delicious to me. I met his family and it seemed to make sense. We would disagree; then talk. We would accommodate each other. He loved me, it seemed, and assured me that nothing was wrong, with me or with the world. Everything was right, even when it was uncomfortable, and I had permission, nay encouragement, to be all me, all the time.

But then... what was it exactly? What was the enzyme? It all began to rot, as quickly as it, the delectable fruit, had flashed it's ruddy hide at me from the tree.

It seemed to be the stress of school and incumbent-but-ever-worsening financial concerns for Jesse that shifted things. My assessment was that Jesse felt like he had to go to school to get the kind of (professional) reputation and skills he wanted and thought he needed. He felt like he had to go because his family members were encouraging him, some even offering significant financial support. But I don't think it was what the real Jesse, the Jesse right now, really wanted. It came hard for him.

I somehow became the thing that he found the most stressful and challenging. He began to treat me that way, first letting small dry insults and complaints slip, then avoiding me, emotionally withdrawing, sometimes a zombie in my presence. Surely, it was not so much me as the expectations he had built up around me, the way he thought he was supposed to act to secure my affection and dedication. He wanted me as an object, a cork to somehow plug a gaping hole in him; only I was a different shape, a different size, notably far too small. There was work that Jesse needed to do and, instead of doing it, having an open dialogue with me about it, so that we could be partners in it, our relationship was supposed to fix it. It couldn't. Especially when the very roots of our relationship--genuine intimacy and unquantifiable exchange--were drying up and retracting, before they'd even fully formed.

In a way, I feel like I shouldn't be so heartbroken by Jesse's having left me. We were, after all, only together for a meagre 3 months, the better part of which was the stressful withdrawing I've tried to describe above. It seems ridiculous to feel so bereft of something that was more dream than reality and that faded so easily and so quickly.

It is hard now to recognize that while this dream, or this incarnation of it, crumbled, I have every right to hold (and right to the pleasure of) another. I learned some things about myself and about how I see or don't see things in my partner. I couldn't have undone what happened, or somehow stopped it.

That was what was most painful, in a way, when Jesse began to more strongly break away. I tried to keep him from breaking up with me. Absurd! How could you convince someone to stay with you if they don't want to? You can't, however painful it may be.

When I wouldn't let him go, peacefully, he stole away in the night. He cleared his things out of my apartment while I was away one weekend, leaving his set of keys and a pathetic, excruciatingly brief note. It was cowardly, violating, and insensitive of him. It hurt like hell and I was enraged with grief.

But the one or two times I have seem him since, he is a beautiful selkie, still, but his eyes have lost their sparkle, at least to me. I mourn the loss of him like I'd mourn a death. Jesse, as I knew him, as I loved him, is dead. I did what I could, holding his hand through his terminal illness, but he died just the same. Jesse, as I knew him, as I loved him, wanted to die.

I see the bittersweet denouement here, that the real Jesse now has a chance to be. But I'll surmise that Jesse won't let Jesse be Jesse, at least not without some more drama under the bridge. And I'll be damned if the Jesse I loved didn't sparkle ever so much more to me than the shell of a man I last saw.


~andrea

Jul. 7th, 2009

sex

mother, mother, Jasper

Holy hell, it's well into July.

Jasper left on a plane with his nonna earlier today. I've had a pretty stellar first day of mommy vacation. German chocolate cake, sex, finding of keys, going to the spa, talking with my good friend Priya, and having an incredibly pleasant brunch with mom, Jasper, and Tim (who is my lover). Jasper will be gone to Texas for roughly three weeks.

I'm tired and feeling how big tomorrow will be.

Tomorrow, I am performing in front of a huge crowd: four friends. I'd love to have more, but hopefully a few extras will mushroom in at the last minute. The cost of the event is "pay what you will" and I'll be using the money for my trip to Breitenbush, in about a week, Gaia willing.

In other news, I've taken up a project of developing and designing my own tarot/oracle deck. I think I'm -this- close to finalizing my arcana. Next, the big step of drawing them all. I'm kind of excited!

This might be an effective distraction from preparing my resume and online portfolio :/ hrmmmn.

I'm feeling joy and levity. It's incredibly foreign.

How nice.

Facebook is stealing me from all of you, but I hope you don't hate me too much. Facebook has also been the reason I haven't updated and written about what's going on my life lately. I'm a little disappointed, but I think I'll be just fine. It would be nice to have a record of the transformations happening.

For instance, my horoscope from last week:

magic (ma' jik), n. 1. A mysterious event or process that seemingly refutes the known laws of science. 2. A willed transformation of one's own state of mind. 3. A surprising triumph that exceeds all expectations. 4. Something that works, though no one understands why. 5. The impossible becoming possible. 6. "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." (Arthur C. Clarke.) 7. A quality predominant in the lives of Pisceans during the period July 1 through July 20, 2009.

I'm enjoying manifesting this :)

~andrea

Jun. 17th, 2009

work

The beginning of something wonderful indeed

Let me introduce you to: autumnthing.com!



Yay :D

Jun. 2nd, 2009

autumn

Voice Post

VoicePost
71K 0:20
“Justin inspired me to write this song. Called Party Train. Sitting on the potty chair waiting for a Weam(?) riding on a pony train Rupee(?) it's pretty I'm sitting on the potty chair learning to poo I am riding on the potty train.”

Auto-Transcribed Voice Post - spoken through SpinVox

Previous 10 | Next 10