Echo

give me a reason to change the season.
but please
be kind.

My interview with Jeremy Piven the weekend Grosse Point Blank came out. Still one of my favorites:

http://www.pub.umich.edu/daily/1997/apr/04-11-97/arts/arts4.html

so happy tonight.

where are all the good men dead? in the heart or in the head?

I just find it amusing that you came from somewhere.

i have decided grosse point blank is my favorite movie.
closer is the film that resonates the most.

Grosse Point Blank.

This movie holds some of my happiest memories.

i am
artist en realization.
giant core of electricity
too small for the eye to see
but the biggest thing you can believe

just touch me
when the sun goes down
if you want something to believe.

I lie awake
I’ve gone to ground
I’m watching porn
In my hotel dressing gown
Now I dream of you
But I still believe
There’s only enough for one in this
Lonely hotel suite

The journey’s long
And it feels so bad
I’m thinking back to the last day we had.
Old moon fades into the new
Soon I know I’ll be back with you
I’m nearly with you
I’m nearly with you

–zero7

more and more, i’m feeling that when you find the place, you find the person. but you have to find the time as well. and the place doesn’t have to be permanent. it’s where you meet to decide things.

“Your eyes.”

“My eyes what?”

“They’re very…interesting.”

“How so.”

He took a long sip of beer–he squints when he thinks–made a decision, shook his head.

“I can’t say.”

She stared.

“Fair enough,” she said, in a voice that echoed.

He looked at her as she looked at him. He looked away, laughs nervously.

“What?”

“This is probably gonna sound weird, but I’m just gonna say it. It’s like the way you look at me…you look at me like we’ve already done it. Like you’ve seen me naked and you know all about me so it must have happened, yet I have no memory of it.”

She took a sip of coffee, her eyes floating on the surface of the murk. Her ears were ringing.

between the dead stumps and broken rocks
i dug into the wet sand and found a pebble of time.
when i opened the pebble
it unfolded the most brilliant sunset i’d ever seen.
my first thought was how i was going to capture it all so i could share it with you.

but we haven’t yet met where we said we would.

Written 4/18/05:

To be honest, I left the wedding overwhelmed by my loneliness. Sometimes I see too much, get too deep into people and I wish there were someone I could talk to about how to handle all the impressions I get, the images and the feelings. Sometimes I wish the night lasted forever and we could all lay down our costumes and masks and the roles we play, and just be ourselves under the cover of night. Sometimes I think playing a human being is a hard job because you can’t just exist, unencumbered by contrivance. Every situation demands a different set of social protocol. No one gets to behave “as is” in the light of day. We lose the fluidity and truthfulness of just being.

Why does there exist within me, a cold, logical robot as well as an amorphous emotional being? Why is it so hard to be a human being? When I went in to have Lasik on my eyes, there were complications so it took a long time. They had put anesthetic drops on my eyes, but after everything was said and done, they reapplied the anesthetic on my left eye and operated, then FORGOT to reapply it on my right and operated. I felt the laser slice into me and it was like a slow paper cut on my eyeball, but I didn’t say anything because you’re not supposed to move. It only last a few minutes, but they basically operated on my eye without anesthesia. Sometimes I feel like that’s my experience of life. I don’t go through it numb enough. There’s too much awareness, of things I don’t even need to be aware of. All that’s inevitable…everything gained will eventually be lost. All that we have is borrowed and never owned. Our lifetime is a loan, blessed upon us to gain experience. The people in our lives, our youth, our beauty, our wealth, we give it all up someday, and death is the great equalizer when it’s time to give up our borrowed time and human identities. And there’s such an urgency to be real and for us to understand the very power we have when we are all connected and real, but we’re standing on a stage so it’s hard not to fall into acting within this play that has yet to conclude. Everything is ephemeral and things have to always be in motion but on the outside, there’s one connecting line that runs through every single person and being in existence, and we just get so caught up that we forget that there’s a bigger story beyond pages measured out by single human lifetimes. But to survive in a world built by humans, which plane do we choose to live in?

i’m my dreams we fought last night.

when i woke up, you had left the room.

i can feel your heart.

more than anything, i wish i knew your face.

lots of train whistles in the distance tonight. through the cool fingers of fog, i’m missing you.

there is a time and place for everything. relax, prepare for when the time and place is here, but don’t struggle against the moment. but when the door opens and the moment appears, be strong and wise enough to step into it.

fear can live with regret.

i can not.

can you?

i’ve been thinking about how i’m an inherently shy person; it takes me time and getting to know someone in my own way before i trust them and let them in. sometimes it’s two steps forward and one step back, but good people with patience usually understand.

but i’ve noticed that when people appreciate me for who i am, allow me to be myself and are enthusiastic about the discovery of the big and small treasures of the world alongside me, it can be a very uplifting, rewarding experience. if anything, it’s definitely not mundane. if anything, it’s usually an adventure on some scale. but i find, not everyone is interested in seeing the world through my eyes. sometimes people feel ambivalent about what they can allow themselves to believe.

i think that’s why i’m particularly grateful for and appreciative of people who are interested and can see the magic in life. they make me feel like i’m not alone in this world.

Run, City, Run

Every day I find something beautiful and awe-inspiring. I feel like I’m having a love affair with the city of Seattle, and the people are incidental. They add to the experience, but it’s really about the adventure of discovery of all the special treasures of this city.

On Friday, right around sunset, I had the sudden urge to go for a jog. I’m an indoor athlete. And also part vampire (skin is very sensitive to sun, and allergic to sun block. Plus all the prowling at night). The only times I can remember jogging outside are the few times I’ve been in Taiwan and jogged…to the gym. But this was something special.

I can run for miles and miles on a treadmill as long as I have a book in front of me to keep my brain occupied…otherwise, I’m aware of how much everything hurts or burns and how slowly time moves, and I end up wanting to do something else. But running outside, I can only go a few blocks before becoming really bored.

But my run around my neighborhood was amazing. Everything was so beautiful, the weather was perfect, and every block was a new discovery; I ran for over an hour. I ran through my neighborhood, checking out people and food on the patios of restaurants. I ran until I would get myself lost, discovering new stores and architecture and landscapes, then ran myself back into the familiar. I ran along the water, heading all the way to the Fish Market, and back to where the cruise ships come in (the Celebrity Infinity had been docked that day but was gone just as abruptly as it appeared). I had the urge to high five everyone I passed. I ran the steps of Pier 66, across the bridge back into my neighborhood, then headed towards the Sculpture Garden with that amazing water fountain statue of the man and his child reaching for each other. I rested and met a couple from Eugene, Oregon, and talked to them for a bit. The sunset in the background was breathtaking.

I sprinted up the hills, ran forwards, backwards, laterally, sometimes dancing at stoplights, then stopping to take in the sunset in the little hidden alcoves I would find with panoramic views.

I’ve never felt so happy, so free, to be moving like mercury through space, the wind and pure inspiration at my back. I was surrounded by beauty and discovery. I was surrounded by everything that was proof of life and God. It was an incredible feeling of physical, spiritual and aesthetic euphoria.

Today, I ran towards the Sculpture Garden again and found a slope of grass overlooking the water. While waiting for the sunset, I read The Tale of the Rose by Consuelo de Saint-Exupery, the wife of Antoine de Saint-Exupery and supposed inspiration for The Little Prince. It’s a beautiful story so far. There’s a lot I could relate to that made me feel relieved and inspired.

“Consuelo, you are not a woman.”…

“Am I an angel, then? An animal? Do I not exist?” I asked him fiercely at last…

“For as long as we have been on this ship, I have been wondering what you are. I know I like what is within you, but I also know that you are not a woman.”

This made me laugh. I have been told this before as well, with similar vague and ambiguous explanations. It reminded me of the guy from the bar a few days ago, who wouldn’t (or couldn’t) explain why he wished me “Be good” as a kind farewell, but said that whatever I am, he respected both sides.

There were so many passages and quotes that either struck chords in me, giving me sudden words for abstract feelings that have floated inside me, and many things that I noted to remember as important for when the time is right.

“You’re going to live an intense life,” he said to Tonio. “Don’t let jealous people get to you, always keep moving ahead.” And he confided to me, “He’s a great fellow: make him write, and people will talk about the two of you.”

I think I understand the choice I need to make in life. I am being asked to choose–inspiration and fuel for art, but never having what I want most, because while I’m being denied what I “think” I want most (an enduring romantic love), I’m getting exactly what I want most–art. Or I could choose the stability of a working domestic partnership, grounded to earth, but I would have to give up seeking fuel for my art if it conflicts with the needs and boundaries of the relationship. The truth is, I have a belief that there’s a win-win situation where I can have the benefits of both. The trick is to balance the compromise so in the space between the two, I’m happy with what I have, and have no regret about what I gave up.

I’ve already accepted that what’s lost was once found and what’s found was once lost, so nothing of value is ever lost forever. If it was something you really needed, you’ll find it down the road, two feet ahead.

I’ve also accepted that I want only what’s mine, and what’s mine will become obvious when it’s the right time and I’ve decided I’m ready. That’s why I don’t worry about letting people go, or pursuing people. A wise man once told me, “You should never fight for love or chase it. Love should just happen.” I think life should just happen as well. And when I have to let go of certain people, I just think, how amazing it would be to round the corner and there they are.

Or even more intriguing, maybe it’s someone I’ve never met before but is beyond anything I ever imagined, and we can’t stop giggling when we meet because even though we’re strangers, we can’t believe we’ve found each other.

I’m open to either. I want only what’s mine.

And I think I’m ready, universe.

Michael had decided he wanted to leave on Friday instead of Sunday because he was feeling homesick. But he had a great time and really loved Seattle. On Thursday night, we were laying in bed and he was excitedly talking about things he loved about Seattle. He loved that the clouds were beautiful and that you could walk everywhere. He loved that we’re close to the water and can see it from the balcony. He loved that my building has a swimming pool and gym. Mostly, he loved the sounds.

“Do you hear that, Julia? That’s a plane! That’s the 3rd plane I’ve heard already. It’s marvelous!” he said (incidentally, I’ve never heard him use the word “marvelous”). “You can hear everything. Planes. Trains. Cars…”

“You can hear boats, too…”

“Boats, too?! You really can hear everything!”

Michael was so excited (he asked me to wake him up if I heard any trains, planes or boats). I was excited, too, because I had no idea Michael shared my love for night sounds. I love night sounds (wind, rain, crickets, etc), but I also like distant sounds of travel. As a child, I always slept with my window open and could hear distant trucks and train whistles in the middle of the night. I like that in the deepest of night, you are alone, but these sounds remind you that you are also not alone.

I was sad to drop Michael off at the airport. We had a little tiff. People in our family are terrible with goodbyes. But I called my mom that night to make sure Michael was okay, and she said when they picked him up, he looked great –really happy–and he’d been telling them all about how great Seattle is, and how I had set up a wonderful home here.

Temporary home. One year to write my book, secure my secondary home, reveal my guy and bring him home.