the way in which

"our burdens may be of such a nature that we feel bound to bear them cheerfully or without complaint. they may arise from the nature of our situation; they may be allotments of Providence; they may be the consequences of our errors. what is upon us, as a load, we commonly carry with greater reluctance or sense of oppression. it is our loads, our burdens that difine who we are by the way in which we accept and carry them."

weeks, days, minutes

the weekend was spent seeing my host sister with her new dude as she has gone from one rehab to another tracking the steps of california hard way, she and her new guy, who has also gone through rehab and looks like a street thug, i want him in one of my movies
listening to rockabilly legends and legends to be/was, watch rockabilly john dance with a pinup girl
watch my husband watch another girl... like really watch, uncomfortably so.
learn about pakistani school project
house a little girl who is lost and thinks she wants to end her life, wonder what if that was dagny, who would she go to?
serve
have many many men hit on ... not me
i miss dancing oh so much dancing,
i know this city of salty lake like it is a palm of my hand, except i only think i know my palm
even now when i cover my eyes i see tbilisi, it is ironic that i will probably never live there again
in paris men loved me, i have never received as much attention as i did there, uncomfortably so.
maybe i should not care about that
maybe
john wore a brown velvet jacket today, it looked nice.

only some things are reliable

my hair is long, it is light, my body is long, it is medium color, my breasts are small, most of the time i want to be taken away, i am prone to breathing too fast, i am lucky because i have always liked my body, i have never worried about it or my face or hair or cloths, but this doesn't mean i don't worry, i worry endlessly if i can ever get away from myself, i worry if i am loved by the people that tell me they love me, if i have a place to go when i need to go, if my brain is good enough to do anything important, i wonder what it means to keep up appearances, i don't understand why i cry as much as i do, i have more than i can handle, yet i want more...i don't understand how it is that i was born somewhere so far away with people so different than anyone around me now and i don't understand where they have all gone, i don't understand how i have lived so separately from my family and everything that seemed to be so comfortable to me, i don't understand why i don't make movies, i don't understand why i worry so much about being smart, most of the time i wish i could do myself a favor and...

i do know that i am not a kiss up and will never wear diamonds

i do know that my ankles are small, my lips and eyes are crooked, and my legs are long

lately

when i go to work and serve eggs and work with the people that i work with i am reminded that everyone i meet is afraid of something, loves something and has lost something. one day i will make a movie about this.

went to our friend's movie tongiht. that's all he does. he makes movies. in between he will work at a coffee shop or record store, but he just makes movies. are they good? they are. they are hip and cool and trendy, they follow conventions of not following conventions. he does his talk, you know, he makes movies because he makes movies. he makes films about pretty girls and pickpocketers. he shoots them in black and white. his characters speak french and italian. but he makes them. i sit here and write blogs about it.

tall like a sycamore