[ Wednesday, April 23, 2003 ]
Okay. So I just spent an hour on here venting.[ Thursday, April 17, 2003 ]
& lost everything because the window shut down.
How fucked up is that?
But, that's how my life is right now.
And I'm not & can't write any of that over again.
I tried.
Much love.
~ Rebecca 11:18 PM [+] (0) comments
He held his finger against the line. Not forcefully, but delicate. Just enough to allow him to feel.[ Monday, April 14, 2003 ]
Movement. A tug.
Even when his bobber floated behind the concrete bridge support, out of view, he sat calmly, matter of factly. He believes in the things he cannot see. Lives by what he feels.
Fishing with my father for trout in swift water. He teaches me so many things daily....every minute. When I took my bobber off my line, fished on the bottom...had to trust what I felt...I was a nervous wreck. Had so much trouble trusting my own judgement. Had to see that red & white bobber plunk underneath the water momentarily...to know for sure if I was getting a bite or not. But my dad...he just felt the line. Sat with his thumb held against the string...so delicately.
He has immense faith.
Sometimes I feel like I am faithless.
It applies to every moment of our lives.
My father knows that everything will, ultimately, be okay.
I worry that it won't. That I've made the wrong decisions. That I'm not living the way I should be living. That moments of clarity & wisdom pass my by because perhaps I'm not receptive enough to things that are magical & mysterious in the world.
The truth of the matter is....we should always, always trust what we feel. Contemplate the matter but never look back...Never regret. Live as passionately as we can...so that our lives are full & beautiful.
Even as my dad ages...the deep creases in his cheekbones that seem to have sprouted overnight, are beautiful. It stems from knowing that he has a beautiful spirit...& that no matter who I am or who I become...his love for me is unconditional.
Anyway..I wish I could have somehow recorded all thoughts that went through my head while sitting on the creekbank waiting for fish to nibble. I can't...but here are random lines.
"i grew scales waiting for you."
"what if i had no gills but
you strung wire through my mouth &
i tried to speak
i tried to tell you that
i was suffocating but
you only looked into
my eyes &
promised me soon
i'll get you to water soon."
I've never had trouble fishing before. Sure don't have trouble eating them. But the sight of wire strung through such delicate..intricate gills...just absolutely flip-flopped something inside me. Perhaps it's that trout are pretty & silver. Perhaps it's the idea of being strung up...helpless...& do I relate to that easier now. Now that in ways...I feel strung up..helpless...open...tender. I don't know exactly.
"when i was silver coated &
breathing."
Randomness. This is a bit of that randomness I talked about earlier.
Love. Much love. Always much love.
Beck.
~ Rebecca 12:14 AM [+] (0) comments
I procrastinate.[ Monday, April 07, 2003 ]
Today is April 14th. Tomorrow my taxes will go in the mail. Completed last night, I wasn't satisfied with preparing them a day early. Push the envelope. Always push the envelope.
So many things going on in my life. Contemplating direction. Thinking about voice. Getting ready to stir up a stink right here in Smalltown, USA.
"To see what is right, and not to do it, is want of courage or of principle." --Confucius.
But...apart from everything happening in my life right now, there is abundant goodness.
Tonight I drove home with the top down, moon shining into my car, listening to "What do you hear in these sounds" by Dar Williams.
Beautiful, beautiful moment.
Sometimes we wonder how or if our lives touch others. So many times I've passed someone on the road or met someone briefly and those encounters are so intense or the image is so intense...that it's stayed with me for years. The trouble is...there usually isn't that opportunity to encounter that person again. To say...'Hey, you made me realize this' or 'You passed by I & was feeling so bad/unloved/unseen.' We never know how or if the things we do inspire people in some sort. Particularly, I think about a boy sitting on a rock with his back to me 6 years ago. The vision of him...the sadness I felt when I passed him. How I wanted to go back but was late for work. How I should have turned around. How there were crows on the guardrail for miles after I passed him. How they didn't budge but looked at me. How I remembered a man saying 'A crow can't decide whether it's good or bad. Crows destroy harvests. But they also clean up the dead."
How none of that should have been meaningful at all. But somehow, even now...it springs to mind.
Perhaps it's because I've been noticing crows lately. More than I should. And last night, while trying to fall asleep & not being able to, lines of light fluttered along my ceiling.
Sometimes I worry. Fall into it so easily & heavily that I convince myself...there might be something wrong with me.
Other times I ask myself "Why is it that you don't believe?"
My entire life...has been wrapped up in coincidence & the unseen.
I might list it all someday.
An endless list of miracles & messes.
My grandma tells me that God has a plan for my life. A purpose only I can accomplish. She tells me that something's tried to kill me for years. It has. I agree. But somehow...
I'll just leave it at this: too many near escapes. And I am such a lucky little girl.
Love.
~ Rebecca 10:51 PM [+] (0) comments
101 or something like it.[ Sunday, April 06, 2003 ]
1. Rebecca & Venus
2. Gemini & Cancer
3. All that doesn't really matter
4. But it seems as vitally important as my
5. Date of Birth or my Social Security #.
6. In case of accidental ingestion
7. Drink warm milk &
8. Call your mother.
9. If your mother is buried somewhere in Chambers cemetery
10. Write letters to her when you turn 17.
11. And again when you're 20.
12. 5, 7, 8, 2 years ago I thought I had it all figured out.
13. I don't.
14. I am some kind of fuck up.
15. Sometimes I think the people who love me
16. Only do it because they have to.
17. Because I'm family.
18. Because they knew me so many years ago.
19. Because they feel indebted to the connection.
20. I wonder how sane I am.
21. If I should encourage T. to come off her Paxil.
22. Or if I should start a brand new prescription
23. Of my own.
24. I'm a lazy little girl
25. With such vision.
26. I'm not gonna lie.
27. I can think of all the right things to say
28. 10 minutes after the fact.
29. Put me on the spot my cheeks turn red I
30. Always say something I regret and
31. My biggest fear is looking like an idiot
32. When I really don't want to.
33. It's okay if that's the goal but
34. Only on my terms only
35. At my will.
36. I'll let you back me but
37. Never into a corner
38. Not without fighting or
39. Screaming or
40. Scratching my way out
41. Into the light because
42. There is always light and
43. I'll find it I'll
44. Call it's name until
45. I'm breathless &
46. Hyperventilating &
47. The words turn to jumbles, spit &
48. syllables inside my mouth, spewing
49. like a pop can that fell on the floor.
50. In case of accidental overdose contact
51. Your local physician. Tell him
52. I sent you.
53. Tell him there should be
54. A warning label on this shit.
55. Tell him you didn't know
56. What you were getting into.
57. Didn't realize there'd be
58. Such a mess
59. To clean up
60. After she spewed her shit.
61. Sometimes I'm afraid my insides will fall out.
62. And no one will be there.
63. To catch it.
64. To witness.
65. To document
66. The occasion.
67. Because really this is what we're trying to do:
68. Catalogue our lives into prim & proper verse
69. Give voice to a scream that has been mounting for
70. 17-18-19-21-22-23-24 years.
71. Take your pick.
72. It might not even be your own.
73. It might be
74. Your mother's or
75. Your father's or
76. Your aunt's or
77. The lady you worked with who
78. Told you about how he beat her
79. How he kicked her face in
80. 10 years ago after drinking
81. Jim Beam & Coke & how
82. She took him back because
83. He said he loved her & she never heard it
84. Before while her face was shoved in
85. Some man's crotch & he was thinking about his
86. wife, kids, work at home.
87. Home.
88. Where she would never be
89. Welcomed.
90. I want to tell you this is some devination that
91. I came out of the womb with a pen in my hand but
92. That would have only hurt my mother &
93. My God, I never wanted to hurt
94. My mother.
95. But she left me
96. A sad little girl
97. Too bashful to speak
98. And it took a long time to brew
99. To steep into maturity but
100. I'm warm &
101. Almost done.
~ Rebecca 10:51 PM [+] (0) comments
"thinking of the girl i was / drawing blood / luring you along"[ Saturday, April 05, 2003 ]
A line by Rachel somebody.
In Berea art dept. (1996 ?), I saw a very simple watercolor done by a student. A line figure walking in a field. Along the bottom was written. "He raped me while the flowers watched and got off." I'll never forget my reaction to that piece. How it's clung to my brain and comes back to me in those silent moments. Of all the beautiful, framed, intricate art in that room...one 8" x 11" piece slung on a desk in the corner touched me most.
About a week ago a lady commisioned me to do a piece for her. Simple black tree on greyscale background. Watched The Ring today. Noticed my tree. I wanted to do a mottled grey background. Very rough..almost concrete looking. That stems from my obsession w/ texture lately. Especially with rough black sketches on top of textured surfaces. I ended up doing a grey swirl background. Should have it posted on my website sometime soon.
Tomorrow, I'm taking a look a lady's house. She wants a folk art style painting of her house & yard around it. It's not necessarily the art that I like to do. But it is a way to explore this avenue & maybe I can turn some people on to my more abstract/dark art. I'm going to sell one of my paintings. I've tried before but could never bring myself to do it. To sell your art is to give a part of yourself away. I like to keep it all hoarded. Strange but, yeah, I'm a hoarder. I'm admitting it now. I learned during a Life Space Crisis Intervention training that hoarding is sometimes a symptom of fear of abandonment. That struck me hard. Had never really thought about it...But there could be a connection. Or it might be more of a regional thing. Maybe that notion of "Save for hard times" has been intsilled in my head. Either way I save for the hardest of times.
None of this is interesting, I know. But sometimes a girl quietly contemplates. Sometimes she has nothing to say. Meant to get my Cynthia Nelson out of the car before I came in. Been wanting to re-read her lately. Haven't gotten around to it.
I'm going to do a 101 on here soon. I've done too many at Anna's. Plus it's a good way to get to know myself. And..if anyone ever reads. A good way for someone else to get to know me. Essentially I think that's the attraction to this. Momentary connection to someone we otherwise wouldn't notice.
Something like that. I'm gone.
~ Rebecca 11:58 PM [+] (0) comments
Waiting for L. to come over for fettucine alfredo & jackass. It's comforting to know that other people own blow-up dolls and aren't afraid to enlist them as passenger. (buckled up..always buckled up.) County music infomercial on T.V. right now. Makes me think of my friend Tammy. The letter she sent me shortly after JFK Jr. died. How she tried to persuade me to go to Tennessee with her. Work at Opryland Hotel. Buy blue rhinestone suits & the Dolly Parton wig she always wanted. That thought always fills me w/ the most warm sense of fondness. I think about her. The way she was that summer. In Harlan. Driving her grandma's caddy. Heartbroken underneath. Just fine on the surface. Makes me wonder...just how many of us are heartbroken underneath and fine on the surface? How many times do we keep it together just long enough to make it to our car, our room, some corner? Sometimes I think we should just let that raw emotion out. Become vulnerable, exposed, naked wherever we are. It's such a struggle to try to contain it within your body. To keep a game face when really, every vein in your body screams listen to me, listen. We're hurting. We need to cry. We're angry. We need to vent.[ Friday, April 04, 2003 ]
I still don't really know why I'm doing this. Self-discovery maybe? There are so many aspects of my life that I just threw into the air about two weeks ago. Left my job. ( I worked with emotionally disturbed/delinquent children. Had been there five years as a house parent which meant I lived with my kids--eight girls--4 days out of the week, 16 hrs a day, teaching them to live, love, learn & laugh.) I still don't know how I feel about leaving. The technicality of everything...the system in itself...I'm so disillusioned with that. Underneath all the labels, the syndromes, the disorders, what we really had, always had, were beautiful, soulful children who respected those who respected them. Who loved those who loved them. Yesterday they passed by my little shop...a whole vanful of girls and waved. They popped the windows of the van open...and yelled out the window.."We love you. We love you, Miss Becky." It made my heart hurt. I yanked open the screen door, ran out in the yard and waved until I couldn't see them anymore. To love those who aren't your own is one of the most pure, true loves I've ever experienced. To leave my girls, to say goodbye to them was the hardest thing I've ever done. I just held them and wept as I said my goodbyes. I couldn't hold it together. In my car, I nearly choked on the wails. Had to stop in the middle of the road to get it together. I suppose for me, it was more than a job. It was my way to become a mother without actually giving birth. They were my daily reminders...of how beautiful...innocent...pure...life really, underneath everything, is.
L.'s here. We're laughing. Talking in our own language. She's unloading ice cream. She has a baby growing inside her. I feel like crying. I feel like smiling. This is a feeling I can't contain. Because right now...these are the things that really matter. These quiet moments and inside jokes. And aspects of living that are uniquely our own.
With this...I want to keep it honest. No format. Just me. I'm gone.
~ Rebecca 6:40 PM [+] (0) comments
Yeah. So I don't know why I'm doing this. Randomness, I suppose. Perhaps to catalogue all those things in my head..experiences..feelings...all those instances that don't find their place in my poetry, art. Whatever it is I piddle with.
~ Rebecca 1:21 AM [+] (0) comments
