Scaredy-Cat

Today I worked at Ironside.  I absolutely love my co-workers.  They’re compassionate, smart, witty and they love to be with people, same as me.  Tomorrow the union delivers my computer (for my other job) and I’ll be ready to start laying down some serious pages of my magazine.  I’m a little nervous because I’m so new at design.  It took me a while to hone my craft with painting and I’m sure it will be much the same with design only this time, I have a serious audience waiting for a highly professional product.  I won’t have a critique in the end the way I did in art school.  I’ll get either an approving nod or a disappointed email from a very powerful organization.  We’ll.  See. What.  Happens.

 

Tonight I’m going for beers with my friends.  In the meantime, I’m here with you and doing some goal setting.  Like I really want to paint a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge.  People want to see that and I’m sure my take on it will be fun.  I need to show paintings, not as much so I can sell them as for my ego.   Right now I have 10 unseen, framed works propped against the walls of my apartment.  4 more that are unframed.  I can’t really imagine the venue for them. I keep thinking they’re going to stop being relevant all-together if I don’t get them out of here soon.   The bridge will be my gateway into showing in San Francisco.  I just need to get the ball rolling.  Really, I need to not be such a scaredy-cat.  Geez…

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Berkeley

I went to Berkeley this morning for the first time. Across the bay a pre-stormy cloudiness made changing trees sparkle and the air heavy with ocean.  Young couples walked hand in hand in mittens across the street. Fat vines grew up the sides of houses.  There were yards to admire.  KalX, my favorite radio station, was in perfect synchronicity with my mood and daydreams. It was good to be moving fast in a car. It was good to be clean and clearheaded on a Sunday morning, ready for adventure in a new place.

We had brunch at Bacheesos, a mostly organic, homemade European buffet. When I looked around, I felt like I was with a bunch of other me’s and thought maybe I will move here instead of somewhere else in SOMA, because I loved it. It wasn’t until we crossed the bridge to come back home that I realized, despite its inconvenience, I might love San Francisco more.

And then I won concert tickets.  This is my 100th entry.

Movie Nite

I just arrived home from the movie theater. Pete and I watched “Pirate Radio”. It was informal, decadent, and beautifully crafted with a godly soundtrack.  I haven’t stopped smiling since…  Sort of.

When the movie started, I had that inkling of fear about it ending. It’s something that happens when I’m lonely. When I’m super lonely I get sad when I’m finished eating a meal, or when a movie is over or when it’s morning and there’s no breakfast.  When I used to live in the House of Joy in Lexington, a little hippie house in Chevy Chase, I would pick 2 movies from the video store every afternoon when I finished work and I’d watch them back-to-back before an early bed-time. I would feel so nervous half way through the second movie. I don’t remember a lot of the movies, but I remember that feeling and I experienced it again tonight.

I slept a lot today. I had a long conversation with my little sister who is almost finished with her teaching degree. I’m so proud of her. I took pictures at a motorcycle event for the magazine I design. I bought a new book, Bright Lights Big City. I had breakfast three times… But last night I broke things off with the boy I’ve been seeing and no matter how much I know it was the right thing to do, my heart is broken and when “Pirate Radio” ended, a part of me wanted to disappear with the final credits. But it was good, a great movie. You should see it… and I’m happy, just not all the way deep down, not tonight.

Spellbound

I’m at Crossroads Café on Delancey Street having breakfast. I go out to breakfast almost every morning. It’s one of the things that makes me happiest in life. I used to think it was the coffee that really helped me get my feel-good on but now I think it’s the people.

It’s beautiful outside right now. It’s like the day Winnie the Pooh thought to go up the honey tree, and the energy is much like that; invincible, light, nostalgic, home. It’s breezy like aurthor’s crown in magical awakening*, like all our brains are being swept into each other. I can really feel the space between myself and the people who cross my path today.

In my shower I was thinking about what it means to share a bed with someone else, how it’s like downloading that other person in your sleep. I think that’s when vulnerability sets in, overnight in that thick air. Because it isn’t that person’s personality that gets you anymore, it’s your essence combined with theirs that defines everything. You can no longer rationalize your emotions or quantify your love. Everything in the relationship becomes spellbound. You no longer deal with the other person, but this energy baby you’ve created together, and it’s usually an unruly little devil.

I was thinking about the energies I’ve shared with different boys and what they feel like. Like when I channel Chris Conner, I get a blue-brown with cascades of warm black. I feel a certain tempo, short, quick beats and bodily, I feel him most in my neck and right clavicle. Ben feels warm, grounded, bodily, I can feel him in my lower chest. He feels like I feel alone only red, more of a long, even, deep sound, slower breath, heavy, calm. I feel Patrick the most in my shoulders, though at first it seemed like a full body thing. And that’s all I can really articulate for now. There are others, other boys I’ve loved and experienced my life with and recalling our shared light has been invaluable at times. It isn’t thinking about them. It’s feeling them in my body, it’s listening for their voice, seeing their aura and resting in that space.

*www.magicalawakening.org

I’m Sad Right Now But Maybe I Won’t Be Tomorrow. I Hope.

I just found this old AdeleStreet draft.  I never posted it because I didn’t want people to know I was sad.  I guess.  I almost cried reading it just now.

 

Dearest Blog, let me say that I’ve missed you and I have so much to tell you since I abandoned you weeks and weeks ago. Living in Kentucky is hard now that the freshness and glam of of home has worn off. I don’t have a job and sometimes I worry about money. I was in love at Omega and now that’s fading in the space between. I saw Griffin and DJ Swa (the fiancee) yesterday and I feel off balance again.

But I’m painting and that feels so very real and good. I’m also vegetarian and I don’t wear make-up anymore though I feel ugly often. Not wearing make-up and not dressing up is nice because I can be one of the guys and discuss the masculine, world-changing things that they discuss. It’s hard because I go unnoticed and people make fun of me and my old circles think I’ve gone a bit crazy.

I’m lonely a lot. I spend so much time by myself, even more than I did at Frost Valley in winter. Sometimes running isn’t enough and cigarettes are about the only thing I can do to curb lethargy. I want companions. I want to be an amazing painter and I want to be better at healing- myself and others.

Tomorrow I have nothing to do. No job prospects, just my paint, so I’m going to paint until I run out of color. Most of my paints are still with dad. It will be exciting to use cadmium yellow again.

Eating healthy is more like fasting because I don’t know what to eat and Kroger is such a long walk. I mostly eat blended fruit stuff or eggs but it isn’t any good and I don’t feel nourished by it. I tell myself the vitamins will take care of me but it isn’t true. I just know. I need friends who are like me close by, to make this transition OK and to give me hugs. I never touch anyone anymore and it makes me sad.

It’s Not Me Baby

I was just downstairs getting free coffee when I met this guy.  I didn’t meet him really.  He just complained about the coffee and I thought he was miserable and that this was a patterened way he had worked out to approach girls.  Complaining.

But now I’m thinking about patterns in my own life, the many things I do that don’t serve me at all, in relationships in particular.   Like the fact that I want to be with the person I love all the time, to the point where I can’t focus on my own life, to the point where I’m riding along on worthless errands and falling asleep to TV buzz.  Yuck.

Other things I do that I hate are eating milk and cheese, twittering or facebooking in that vain sort of way- not in a networking way, more of a “look at me” kind of way.  I don’t like when I watch TV.  I don’t like walking too far.  It makes me worry that I’ve chosen the wrong city.  I don’t like when I smoke while drinking but I really like smoking during the day.  It makes me aware of the way my breath moves through my body.  It makes me thankful.  I don’t like that I PMS, but what the fuck am I supposed to do about that?  I don’t like when I don’t say what I want, I usually don’t recognize my wants until I can’t have them.  Like I’m not really afraid of dying, not at all.  I could have gone to Afghanistan with Pete.  I could live in France.  I could stop talking for a week.

Patterns are so heavy because they don’t feel like patterns, they feel like my personality, inescapable.  But I know better.  And I hope that complainer guy does too.  And anyway, I really like the coffee.  It’s tasty and the machine it comes out of is a lot of fun.

Too Cold to Paint

…and my computer feels like warm tea, on the back of a motorcycle in Spain. I just can’t seem to get away from it lately. It’s the only thing that seems to move fast enough. And I really want to start eating animals again. I’m in the mood to eat a burger, and sync, sink back in with that part of myself, that aggressive, selfish part. I’m tired of floating, being yin, being nice and easy. I want to scrape out a new path. I want to scrape my knees. I want to go to France. I’m bored being this, already, and I just got here.  I want.