KUPERGRASS

 

 I was showing off beans. Look at my beans. Look. It’s as if to say, look I fit in this family. Look. I belong I can make myself belong. I can grow beans. I was always… Showing off beans.  I moved from one dad to another. I wanted to belong but never had that feeling. I’d seen other girls have it. Could I make it? Could I figure it out? It was a quiet game. Repression and quiet stoicism. A silence.  Now I’m gone. I left.  Im in  Pasadena with my life choices. They are so mad. But it’s the same quiet game, although I’m happier and they’re still stoic. Quiet. Shameful. And I don’t know why and I don’t want to know. Let me be now. My father is dead. His replacement was a criminal. My search after that yielded a wanting. An emptiness. A guessing game. Attention getting behavior, was my only sin. I feel that as guilt now. When I spoke to deaf ears. When I revealed my spirit and it was … it just was. And I was so tired, I was so ill.  If I’m vegan if I’m straight...

  Home. It feels surreal. Kiln window. The last days of living from these two bags. Living from bags. Coming out of living from bags . Into home. Transitioning to working again. Night beauty. The tubs are all broken. The plumber has been here for two days.

 

 The new living room is white. The windows inspire me. Back gate. More work to do. Sleep. Night number one.  It’s the journey that ends after so long fighting through mud and in this bed rest is felt. True rest. True presence in my eyeballs returning rest.  Rest. In the trees and sky. Rest. 

 I like to marinate in my own creative time. I like to be slow. I like to deeply think about things from different angles. I like space, I’m a fan of being lazy and. Eating. Boring boring is the spice of life. Body autonomy is a gift I give myself. I can be filtered selective demure wise and observing yet consumed by love. I love to feel it, guess it, sense it, dream it. For me or other people. In songs, in stories, in my life.  How I feel. How I read. Conjunction. Styles of being. Strong so strong. The echinacea. Awareness. 

 I have to remember. Sometimes I forget. That home is also a state of mind. It’s after living in many places I’ve felt comfort only now. It’s the first night here. Home. New home. New very old home. Psychic freedom home. Home. It’s been earned. New me. New home? No. Same me. New home. Time.

 I will grow a garden again.

She has the posture of someone who has to ask persission for everything. I remember being her. Everything is explained, why even talk? Right, right. Yes. Okay. Totally. Speak a need, you don’t need that. Here’s a reason. Be reasonable. Agree with me, here’s why. She must be wondering why am I here? On vacation but what’s the point? Maybe she also dreams of women and trips and freedom. I am here at the cafe with Christine It reminds me of a bridge that could no longer function.  The way I lived. I broke free. There was the approval of a ring. I once felt that. That made me special. Even if it was wrong and horrible when I got it. It was a symbol of approval. It meant When am I cooking for your family? Oh yes who’s gluten free vegan and also allergic to onions? Who can’t eat sweet potatoes because WE ALL KMOW WHY! I was so naive once. I was a slave nodding my head. And no I didn’t speak…. there are reasons. There were reasons and now I don’t care. Freedom means everything to me now. ...

 

 

 The work I had to do to get here. Just two years ago now… I remember going. I had no idea that I’d be loved. I thought Barbara took all my money. Might as well go to Prescott. The air was cold and snow was still on the ground. March. I took a train by myself. Self travel is time and slowness. Train travel is slow. Music Emmersion. This is what they didn’t want me to do. I didn’t tell aunt sue, I just left. She called to say hi from San Diego and I said I was admiring all the vegetables growing in my garden, how I loved to just stay put. Oh nothings going on just being boring, eating well, drinking water. Working on pots. Slowly. I was in the mountains living in a cabin for over a month. I took the train and a taxi cab there alone. Free free free. My first taste of freedom. Train trip to Prescott. AZ. The smell of pines. All the bark and rainbows. Freedom. Protected. It is scary but I can do it. I am strong. I believe in being loved. That was not love. Today the change of address c...

 

 My buddies. My legs. Today after long car trip.my face! Water retention. On the forest floor hiking quickly with Christine. Cape disappointment was not a disappointment. Face. Water round Here right now at campfire motel.  These are my favorite moments.legs get better. Herbs kidney tonic? It’s at home…. Yerba mate? Parsley pills.  In Ceramics studio. On my wheel. Kicking my wheel. Legs healthy in the studio.  I will think of when my legs are happiest today. They are bloating!!!! Walking ray to and from school holding his hand. Harvesting in the garden. Flowers. Outside LACMA and the folk art museum. On my third year of selling art at the brewery artist commune. This was the year my art and name made it on the front page of the website. Processing grog from crushed bisque with Mary rose. Gift from ray. Rainbow vans for rainbow mama. The yard with wildflowers.  Happy.