DIARY

11/12/21
The wind is going in the direction that is good.

I have a note Z wrote me in New York, found stuck inside a bouquet of flowers. The bouquet is long gone, but I find myself almost desperately clinging to these little pieces of our late relationship. Something is in the air; I am waking up with the lingering sensations of my dreams. Perhaps Wuthering Heights is at fault for instilling a certain sense of violence into my dozing thoughts, but I must say that the dreams themselves have been horrific episodes. I killed a man last night underwater with a dagger and concealed his body underneath the planks of a sailing ship.

Today, I woke into rest. People are walking fast in the rain, and N was the only one to greet me in the living room when I had finally tired of rolling around in my half-sleep. He was putting on his socks and preparing to leave for the library. I, unmoved to leave the apartment, (a rare feeling) stole H's radio portable into my room to listen to the classical station for a while. It is truly the beautiful life this day.

The classical station makes me think of my father, and I am looking now to his photo below my window, right next to the photobooth strips of me and Z in L.A., my mother's old pin, and M+M squinting next to a Manger last winter.

If songs and drawings are like prayers or spells, what will I cast for in this Transition? I can feel the shift in my own life; I can feel it in the lives around me. Gang was tired playing pool last night at Taverne, R is heartsick and H is strung out on an essay. My deepest desire at this moment is contentment and self-possession, as well as a certain presence with the ones I love and an openness to the possibilities of the morning. Coziness in the rain!

From the tip
of my widow's peak
I tap you in morse code
naked in bed, back exposed.
Our embrace
is bitter like perfume,
sweet to the touch.

11/20/21
Certainly not a dog or car.

Grateful for the city that made me! Milwaukee made me do it, as it were.

The show with M went well; we made all the mistakes that we always make with the music and the words and it felt really good that way. I was looking and Z and old man Phil the whole time in the audience, and I really tried to stay present and bathe in the feeling of singing with M. I think they are one of the only people I really, truly trust to make music with these days. All my best friends were there, and their best friends too!

Seems like things have shifted here in my 4 month absence. I suppose it is to be expected. Summer really is the golden time- playing chess on the beach, skinny dipping every day and smoking Marlborough Golds with our hat-brims pulled down low over our eyes. A and E playing CD's in their car. Slow mornings with pa, stretching on the porch in the deep muggy air.

A, E and I went through their film photos from the summer. Sweet-bitter. New attic tree-house house. Champagne and Sprite flavoured cake. I love the calm I feel around them, I love to witness the way those two living their lives.

Z and I went to the National today, and it felt good to hear about her musings on love. She is falling in love again, the first time since T. 8 months! I need patience, that's for sure. Perhaps love manifests in moments. Can you feel love all the time? I am skeptical. I think I feel love in this way, in moments.

Drank way too much coffee, my friend. Hung around with M all morning drinking coffee in bed and doing the crossword. What a treasure, they are. Nice hands. Kind.

Went to the art museum with pa. Might be the best art lesson ever. Got Mexican food after cause I can't find good Mexican food in Montreal. Too jacked on coffee to eat much in the moment. Pa, P and I stopped by the bridge, which was lit up for Trans remembrance day and the lights looked like TV static on the river.