~kat~ ramblings, observations, & mistranslations
~february 24, 1999~
okay, i need to take a break for a moment, maybe drink a soda......sit down.
goddamn it i feel like something has just broken and for some reason i can see some parts of the universe that my mother only hinted at when i was in her womb. the dark, cloudy coves of feeling the stars blow out of orion, feeling suns after suns after suns burn themselves into a liberal death just trying to get close to the middle. a whole dimension that includes parisian discos and my sweaty hands in my pockets and the cool, clear song of the scorpions in the jungle cieling......something all encompassing and then gone.
so quick you'd think i'd have forgotten to taste it.
but back to reality and i am working again on a painting for my mother that is far too difficult to entertain at times. with my parents' divorce in the wings, my emotions are stretched to the point of taffy, to the point that i don't care anymore. it's very difficult to wade through all the bullshit, to attempt to forge relationships with my parents that are above and beyond the call of blood ties. so much so that i feel this is the 90's and that biology is losing it's hold on us. when not a part of a feudal society, does blood spill with such fervor as it has historically? should i not hold my parents up to the same social, mental, and emotional standards that i require of my friends? why should i step aside and allow the ugliness to flow in my life, when it is nasty difficult to take it all seriously, anyway? add another potato to this pot, sugar, we've gotta feed the army of fools that is me.
family is important, i totally agree with that, but i've seen horrible examples of the idea of family used to the detriment of all involved. contrarily i've seen people make their own identity and build their own family out of friends and lovers, none of whom have a blood tie. i feel a stronger link to my brother's girlfriend than i do to my own father, and why is that? after trying to open up to him for years and having the cool hand of disinterest and selfishness swat me away, i stopped sharing with him. i haven't had a meaningful conversation with my father since i was fourteen years old and that makes me so angry. angry with him for not noticing and angry with myself for ceasing to try. but i cannot change him, and i cannot accept him, so what am i left with?
this is the first time i've written about this, anywhere, aside from in the fog on my car windows. it's an ache that confuses and mistrusts me, every time i turn around it's always second guessing me. but deeper inside of it is this feeling of peace, this clearheaded fire. if a lover drew a portrait of me there i would have sapphire spheres on my forehead and belly, rubies where my mouth should be. all the space between now and then is textured with a fine melange of tropical fruits and love songs. my ex-boyfriend gave me daffodils the other day and as i stare into their lemony cups and inspect the luscious lace of their design, a warmth only associated with orgasm fills me so thoroughly that i forget where i am, again, and i almost drink their daffodil water like wine, want to rub their petals into my skin.
outside, i can't scream any more shrill, anymore siren. i desire the smoky tendrils of holding someone elses hand for awhile, wherever/whoever they are: i'd build castles for them, paint them in a glitter that surpasses gold in its richness. all for just a moment of peace from my whirring mind, from los complicados, from the harsh hand of alone. but inside is a crevasse, more exhilarating than treacherous, a warm never-never-land rife with heat and an intensity that not even the exploding stars against the middle can match. and it's here that i feel my strength, a lusty inkpot just waiting to write my name on everyone's walls.
~february 19, 1999~
"so quiet you can hear the stars as they breathe....."
i woke up to a phone call from belen, my wondrous spanish friend who makes roses hum and my girlishness giggle. she gives me something else. it was good to hear her mismatched english and longing laughter, not to mention her superb sense of the absurd, (and i quote) "sometimes i am at the office with peter and he treats me like i'm his subordinate, and i hate that and i want to grab him by his balls and slam him up against the wall, but then i think to myself, 'belen, you don't want to ruin the best thing he has, do you?'" (!) i love it. it's the spirit of it, i assure you. (no need to take cover, arizona.)
as usual, talking with belen lights up my day and despite the fact that i've had four terribly unpleasant situations jump into my life, i'm still shining bright. it's that whole, "you can't take that away from me" kind of mentality. at times it seems limiting and boring and too bent in nostalgia, but this morning's conversation was the boost to my moral, the spring in my step, the sugar in my pot, if you know what i mean. i love the wide openness i feel with belen and i wish i felt that with more of the people in my day to day life. certainly it's a two way street, i get back what i put out, and sometimes i'm okay with that. then other days i wish, i wish, i wish.....wish. motivation is what it comes down to, perhaps. and goals.
i don't want to get lofty or existentialist this time around, so i'm just going to say that i appreciate those who are in my life in whatever capacity, and that i understand the dimensions to every relationship. i desire plurality and change, i adore secrets and surprises, and i hope to maintain the almost unclassifiable relationships that i have, as long as i keep meeting people willing to have the courage to pursue something out of the box. there are many easy things in life, and assuming is one of them. i try to be open to changing definitions, different ideas, because as i see it, without the essential beauty of the unique, life would be in black and white. and, speaking from a purely aesthetic point of view, i have to admit i prefer "m*a*s*h" to "leave it to beaver."
p.s.: please welcome huey, louie, and dewey. they'll be accompanying us on this rocky road.