Investigations

Hibernating since last October, I am hushed in my being. A chrysalis surrounds my internal wonder leaving me feeling uncertain, unimaginative, and out of place.

'I need to stop moving so that I may process my life...' I said. 'Why put the reigns on exploring?' I asked in response to myself. 'To fit into the appropriate place of life-' I snapped back, mentally criticizing and aware of how I am tough on myself.

Thinking something critically damaging doesn't feel good. What does 'appropriate' mean in this instance? What am I comparing myself to? And what value does comparing have? And what other story is even comparable to mine? There is no competition.

Focus. What if I sit still, and quietly focus on my breath? How do all of my life experiences leave me feeling unaccomplished? The vacancy sign burnt out.

I used to have more words.

noW trying to draft a pHilosophy, i am rEvisiting old paRagraphs of minE hoping to find A seMblance of myself. perhaps my mInd needs to forgive my heart?

What did I do before- (well it was different then) -what do I do now with what I know?

I don't know the utility of myself.

Formula
girl + access to a major metropolitan area = an impetus to be and become
variables: mental demand, physical demand, move fast, habitually tired

Is busy, productive? How do I qualify significance?

let's try the mountains
girl + the rural mountains =
variables: slower, less people, less demand, more time? safe feeling


I know I am shifting. The leaves are falling and rustling. I trust this truth to be temporary.

Evolutionary.

do I always write like this?

Just now I wrote,

There is a song bird in me

And the thought of expression is solitary

I forgot where my nest is roosted

The breath that left my lungs is cracked and lacking itinerary

A dance is leaving my tongue and scraping the door

Where did I lose my keys

Critical eyes bury intent

Grit kicked up in my teeth, they've since been cleaned

An abstraction of self reliance

Three days ago, I wrote, 

Expression ignites furious sensitivities

Initiates thirst and desire for sensational innovation

An entrenchment to consider

Fulfilling flower-quiet ambiguity, not void of purpose

Reveals internal subspaces

A luminous welling of sound echoing

Influencing the questionable perceptions

Translating and rewriting excitation and doubt

Like the mountains offer a challenge

You are realizing with your eyes open

I heard your heart won't know

Life is the interval of exchange

And now,
Words mirror subtextual currencies
Intimate prophecies
Glimmers of actual and imagined
In between relative underpinnings
What is the vocalized architecture of intention
When placement of meaning is unclear?
Or rather what was the interpretation of the thought?
Read thoroughly for change is moving through implication
Sharing a cultural dialogue, I wish I was speaking loudly
Annunciating through the book shelves holding billions of words in this air-conditioned library

Finding the yes

I have so much in me to express. I want to live out my story and share as much as possible to further my knowing of myself. Reflection reflection reflection. Everything could be considered a mirror. What I think is confrontational is unique to my perspective, and it's part if the journey. I haven't solved that within me, and this is where resistance lies. I have never really understood the question, what do you do? And to add to that, the other common question, where are you from? I simply cannot offer a plain answer.  I do many things, and I am from every experience I have ever lived, every person I have met, or witnessed, every step I have taken, every moment before this one is what I am made up of. I don't think we as a culture see ourselves as that expansive. I certainly pursue a lot and investigate how I feel while I am involved, might as well, it's me living and breathing and contributing the the entire experience. I needed to redefine success for myself with this kind of thinking. My success range is about this check-in with myself. I want every breath and every doing to be a yes. And if I can furnish a yes, I have achieved success. I am not above any labor or effort. I often take the challenge to see and feel into my capacity. Perspective is like my spinal fluid. I have observed and participated and what I choose and how I act supports my livelihood. I am figuring this way of thinking might appear obvious. Great, common knowledge is shared meaning. This knowing and experiential way of living shows me my range of empathy, and my preferences. I want to enjoy creating my life, and it's taken me up to this point to realize this is my responsibility. Despite the doing, I am intrigued at my liveliness. I am self-aware. We, as a species are self aware. I choose to keep this in focus. 

 I left New York  Feb. 20 and came back to San Francisco early May. I want to work on me and I needed a good community to support me. I have a gorgeous collection of friends here. I want their feedback and their stories to encourage my development. Like Harold Bloom's book on literary criticism entitled, The Anatomy of Influence, I am seeking clarity in understanding myself as the embodied idea. I arrived to this moment with influence, an abstract container for expectation. And I want to choose from an inspired place of my own process. I think of the San Francisco Chronicle writing an article remembering Maya Angelou with the headline, 'self made inspiration'. Maya Angelou, she did 'her'-she was her own woman and it was fantastic to witness her through her song, her words, her civic activism how she saw herself in the paradigm and how it invigorated her to do more. I am not Maya Angelou. I am Adele. Not the Grammy award winning British pop star on the radio. Another one. I want to live a strong story. I am learning how to uncover this by actively finding a yes and when I feel my answer shifting, I remember the Homer quote, 'and what he greatly thought, he nobly dared'. And so it is.

 I am learning how to fill my cup to the brim and then some so that when asked to listen, give, empathize, I am a full entity giving from a place of abundance not from scarcity. Like a hug is an offering, it is also a place of reception. By opening up my arms, I am creating the ideal space for someone to hug me back, and for them to see and feel into how they fit into my story. I am re-learning everyday how to consider myself in every moment so that I may see where I am headed by the playfulness, or grace, or curiosity I live/create right now. Like the summer I traveled to Europe, and launched the trip of all glory to experience wanderlust, to remember myself, to include myself in my process of thought. What do I like to eat? When do I like go get up? Sometimes I forget because I have compromised with another person, or a seemingly more convenient way. Right now is a similar exodus/hiatus/launching moment where I am really searching to breathe life into my own artistic vision. What does that mean? I want to regard everything I do as something to gain a lesson from and I want to earn money, make connections and drive my story forward for me. Not another person, not a company, not an industry, unless it aligns with my joy and I don't need any of the extra influence. And I want to create, and perform and sing and dance and share perspectives and inspire connection and conversation. And some how I will figure this out, because this is what makes my heart beat faster.

I was traveling after I left New York for about three months. I followed hints of affection, they didn't pan out. I followed invitations, but they left me feeling empty, and finally at the end after traversing the US from East coast to West, North to Canada twice, and South to Mexico, I resolved to stop, and sit still and hold the mirror up to my own face. I won't find my answer in a place when I keep changing it. This is very difficult. I want to buy a plane ticket all the time. To keep the adrenaline going, to keep exploring and learning and interacting with my notions of fear and by sitting inside allowing them to dissolve. Travel excites me so much. The physicality of all the ways to be mobile enlivens me. I was on a plane to Hawaii a month ago, and turned the woman next to me, and said, 'We're flying! We are up in air flying, and we are also enjoying these peanuts...' When did that get boring? Why did it lose it's phenomenal status. Life is fragile and short and long and forever in this instant, this breath. Why isn't the new Mercedes still exciting? Because it's not new... So curious, new is better, more interesting. How about just having a car! Life is so convenient and if there is traffic, it could be a concourse for celebration, so many drivers, so many owners-. Gratitude check in. As the fleeting moment evolves, I think of Gandhi's quote, 'there is more to life than increasing it's speed.' How do we talk about demand when there are factories with food left undistributed, and people are still hungry. I digress. 

My heart is slowly returning to a place where it can flutter by a knowing glance or initiative. I have had all kinds of experiences in this transition and each one I seem to be measuring a yes or a no, so I know that I'm not quite ready, or rather, that person isn't the right person. And when asked about marriage by an old friend, my introverted uncertain self answered sheepishly, 'I am not sure, it's not where I am at right now.' He wrote, 'Stay open to it.' I wrote, 'Change is a constant.' He wrote, 'Yeah, well it's bigger than say- deciding to switch to decaf.' To me, the expression of union is good, the ritual of ceremony is good but I am not so concerned with this. It's not where I am at. I am in a different phase of my journey.

I am sitting in San Francisco at the house in the where I lived four years ago. I am making my way carefully tiptoeing around old patterns from college days that are deeply set, like concrete grooves of my once upon a time here. Each step, I am aware to only choose what serves me now... And the over thinking has me wound tightly. And then I realize, I am creating all of it, and I invite my imagination to stop being so imaginative. With all of this said, I'm glad to have time or rather I am happy to remove myself from the constraints of time, to look into myself and see my own pace, my own motivation before I act- so that I may honor what I need. I am courageously vulnerable and ecstatic all the time. Fortunately, I have arrived to the 'start up' capital of the world, I feel like the energy here is about realizing a vision.

So I have begun to create dance again. Here is the latest effort, my rooftop movement test edited into quite a vision of perception. Can I write that. A vision of perception. Hmm sounds good. I am a yes. SES, filmed and edited by Sertac Yildizhan.

Coincidentally a silhouette reflecting

In regards to perspective, I name myself as the observer. I am diligently aware of my outline of grace, of temperament, appearing as the greatest idea of myself and becoming it. In so much of my observation, I am attentive to those around me. How am I being received? In college, while pursuing acting, I studied many techniques of observation to heighten my sensitivity to the moment and the reaction. I am half me living the experience, and half outside of myself composing the picture in an avian-like perspective.  Partially I resist 'letting go' and for that I am aware of my lack of participating. Or am I underestimating myself? I imagine that my fear lies hidden beneath my freckles. Embodying the quality of something elegant or classic affords me the distance and a charm of cool. I am what I think, and I am what I perceive others to think, which is still my thinking. Too much. In this video I am the absence of light. A new moon. I know my shadow. The art of the negative. Perhaps I am dreaming my fears. Grounded in fantasy, I still create my reality. The power of thought released into space I create to make the way for an infinitismal vision to connect with the other to connect to myself. Am I more vulnerable? Is this quantifiable? Contentment is not outside of me. There is no 'other' in time. The conception of tomorrow saves me from owning what I fear today. The 'next time' veers my path into another spiral of ambiguity. Taking the lead, leaning on someone, creating a conversation and sharing the humanity and humility of what is, is what I aim to align with. I deem this a worthy goal. I deem this a worthy thought in process. Welcome to the reflective water of a rehearsal studio in Chelsea. I do enjoy all of the angles in the river, Blue Danube.

Witnessing by participation

I am witnessing life.

I am life, aware.

Life is a short word and a container for every moment time ticks in your existence.

Music plays with time and gives those who are listening, maybe even those who aren't, a space to see and hear life in another rhythm. What is your music?

If I am late for work, life is moving slow against me, or I am racing through it with seconds tapping at my heels as I kick up the dust of angst and inside-my-head criticisms. I see all of this in an avian perspective. Why are these my choices?

Am I being clear in this illusion of significance? I mean to write something about the fragile word, life.

Breath might be everything, cells divide and ideas are born and blood reaches the brain and I know, I feel that I must breathe again. Two actions, in and out. Time is irrelevant here, it's more of a feeling, a surrendering, a giving and allowing.

English is the language I am writing in. Anyone who reads this will have their own interpretation of the experiences they have had in comprehension and applying words to feelings and thoughts to make meaning.

In other languages these words hold different meaning, and experiences or not.

I think we are all witnessing each other as much as we are ourselves. There is definitely potential here.

It floats into our perception like a fragrance that teases your desire as you anxiously spin to find its source... 

Feeling into what you perceive can be like dancing with the wind. When it feels right, it will carry you.

Be aware of this feeling.

Witness your life in your living it.

This is me in Petaluma California, near the Tamalpais bay in the wind.

Posted

I, 
(asking for a pause)
This comma and I stand alone. 

I, 
(repeat sentimental pause to consider)
am not sure how to fill the canvas, the page, the home, the stage, the conversation. And I have such a big intention to... a desire to... an inclination to... 
This is when my imagination gets outside of this moment. AH! An idea comes from this moment. 
A projection of uncertainty comes from imagining the next moment and if I feel uncertain right now, I will project from a place of lack. What a fabulous imagination I have. If I sit here and think about all the ways I don't know how to do whatever comes next, I will keep myself very safe, immobile even.
This won't serve my desire to advance my story beyond this moment however. Thank you reasonable self. This imagination into the future, where I don't know what will happen isn't serving me. It's stopping me. 
New intention, allowing vulnerability in the present moment. However long this moment lasts, vulnerability is allowed if I need to feel it.

In the TAO: The Pathless Path, by Osho, there are a lot of words describing the kind of person who lives without considering a path. For instance, one paragraph leads the reader into practicing vulnerability... "being open to rains, to winds, to the sun, to the moon, to life, to death, to darkness, to light-- this wise man who doesn't protect himself, his vulnerability is total."

I don't want to preach, I don't even want to cite the quotation correctly. This is a focus- a mind stream from my memory and my fingers and a short journal entry where I want to reflect about this present vulnerability that I feel. I am open to feeling this.
I am open to it. 

I am open to it because vulnerability holds me and champions aliveness. 
Vulnerability is spontaneous. Spontaneous and necessary to perceive my place in life. 
If it were relevant to judge my musings, I would ask, why do these words matter? 
I would also answer:
                               these words matter because I exist. 
I matter, I am matter... same thing right? Exist. It may not mean anything. It. I 
Macro micro macaroni 
It is everything. I am all and nothing and just a letter and meant to summarize my entire life- 'I' stands for...

Gandhi was quoted saying, Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.
This page, insignificant or not, will be stumbled upon and will inspire constellations of thinking thoughts.
There this page is filled. I write my thoughts and I leap through spaces typing from inside my vulnerability.
I am grateful that you are witnessing my efforts.

Summer Heat

Fair
Stair
         B
      M
     I
   L
 C

Up
Step stretch 
Reach air beneath the ceiling
Lighter fluid chandelier, seventy streaking slices, a screeching flare 
there
 and       there and       
                             there
Note the where and lo, arrest me, what is, realizes
A witness to a treat feasting secret
The sneak gawking lavishly with beguiling reason
The homestead's porch swing was crooked at the metallic seams
Leaning, plain Jane squeamish and screaming delight licking M
                                                                                           E
                                                                                             L
                                                                                              T
                                                                                                I
                                                                                                 N
                                                                                                   G ice cream
With the family cooperating on the second floor deep cleaning
The sneak freakishly took to stealing Jane's last gesture of the cream and tongue meeting