[on being back]

People look older. Some have gained weight,
or are losing a little hair,
Others have grown thinner, facial structures more pronounced.

I've been in the desert since Thursday, Anza Borrego, the Salton Sea, strange places,
felt the 6.9 quake with Elly,
my grandmother who kept cordially asking what we do, where we work, who we are.

Now it's back to this beach town, after nearly a year
Staggering in the streets at the smell of climbing wisteria and jasmine
walking at the salty ocean between windy surf and stars

I burst, it shattered through me like a bullet through a bottle
(telling me to believe that all of this is real).

[you] stood too close to the sunset

Yes, yes, ridiculous, but fun. Even held at the Maritime Museum (with a sea theme)! It was Sadie Hawkins, so I asked this one.

hello, 2009

Okay, I promise I have not fallen off the face of the earth. Many a private poem has been written over the past month.

Following finals, the first two weeks of the holiday were spent in Costa Rica with my family. Then it was home to Washington for a week--my town had 4 feet of snow! But now a new semester is starting, and, with it, a new year.

New classes:
New Religious Movements (but I am just auditing this one)
Modern & Contemporary Philosophy (Descarte to Postmodernism)
Imperialism & Independence (the 2nd British Empire, specifically)
International Law & Organizations (we will participate in the model UN in New York, representing Serbia)
Swimming (triathlons, anyone?)
Acting I (woot!)

So that is 17 units + 4 in auditing. And 3 shifts at work. Busy, but interesting. And it's even been in the 70s, which makes me feel terribly guilty, but is still so nice.

& now it all begins

But at least all my classes are going to be interesting. This autumn, I have:

Perspectives on World History (one of my last GEs!)
Ethnicity & Race in American Literature
Victorian Lit
Sex, Gender, & Power
Mountain Biking (yeah!)

17 units total, plus 5 hours of work/week, in the telecom booth.
Also, I just purchased a plane ticket home for Thanksgiving! I haven't been out of California for autumn for the past two years, and I know I just left, but I am so stoked.

views from my state

San Francisco Farmers' Market. Huge, colorful, communal, and not to be outdone by its beloved City's way--which is to say, as overwhelming and stimulating as its mother.

I want to have church in Farmer's Markets, I've decided. The fruit, the seagulls, the smell of cooking and salt water, the vegetables, breads, and cheese, the rhythms of djembes, dancing percussionists, sitar and guitar players of every stripe and shade. There are 50 mushroom varieties, little kids sucking honey sticks, old men sitting on benches, protesters and activists, beautiful sunlit people. All this sunlight makes my normally invisible freckles shout out greetings and well-wishes to the world.

I talked with a painter named Elden, a man from Peru, in Spanish for a while. He was very patient with my struggling skills, but we chatted for about 20 minutes, and I bought a couple of his small paintings. And I want to communicate. I want to communicate. I want to communicate.

All this community, and G-d, if she's around, dwells here, must.

Community, communicate. Saw Juno tonight. Can we all tell each other stories like that, please? Stories that are funny and awkward and painful and true?

get in the christmas spirit, you

Over satsumas and Sufjan, with some trepidation, I make my announcement:
Next semester, I'll be studying in San Francisco.

Ok, the worst is over.

The weather has been so strange lately- 38 degrees last night! But today in the 70s, with higher local swell than I've ever seen- higher than it's been for 2 years, apparently. There were about 20 surfers at East Beach, next to the pier.

I'm going to miss this stretch of the Pacific--this surfing, skating, avocado-eating, classic California culture that I both mock and share in--that has pursued me all of my life. Oh So-Cal, I came to find something, and you offered all you had. And now you are as fully in me as my Washington, now after every Christmas and summer spent with you, now after these 18 months.

On to the next adventure. I've never even been to San Fran, you know. I come from the wilderness, for goodness sake! Mountains and islands through and through!

I am afraid of this next part of the journey, but just a little. Feeling a little bit brave. And trying to soak up every last moment with my beautiful friends in the Barb.

rejoice and hold hands

A bonfire night, to celebrate Trevor and Jenelle's birthdays, and a couple others, too. 20 of us on the beach, smoking pipes and humming melodies, beating djembes and a few of the guys with flame throwers, spitting oil to breathe out fire like dragons. Real dragonfire. A raucous celebration.

All of us skinny dipping, girls to one side, boys to the other, our bums white in the glow of the mist and cloud overhead. And I walk barefoot, my toes curling into all this pale sand...

I would like a real peace pipe, I think. I mentioned this and Jesse talked about one made by both Israelis and Palestinians, half and half. I would like one like that, smoked in a circle with real, conflict-ridden, multi-cultured friends.

A few partying highschool boys came to our little circle and hung out for a while. They asked where we were from and someone responded, "All over the world." And it was unthought of, unconsidered, but true.

Later, we moved to an apartment to smoke hookah and dance, eat beautiful homemade desserts and laugh together. Oh, these California Novembers... how I love these nights.

The Fire

Most of you have probably heard about the fires sweeping through from Malibu to Mexico. Today several of the fires merged with 100+mph winds. My family in Malibu has been evacuated, and my roommate's family in North San Diego is packing as I write this. They should be ok (ie: the fire would have to go through huge residential areas to reach them), but any prayers that the fire doesn't devastate so many lives are needed.

The weather up here in Santa Barbara has been ashy and smokey- we had crazy gusts this weekend that blew soot and debris over everything (including me, when I was trying to run in the foothills). The power went out several times Saturday night, but the winds have now died down. The light is very odd today, though. Santa Barbara is under evacuation warning, but that is all so far.

some bad haikus (or, I am a pretend poet)

each foot crashing down
fifty ants carelessly slain
i am a giant


knotted, tangled hair
a vista of tossing surf
wind means autumn here


bowing trees to the sky
sunlight dancing on the leaves
the wind holds her breath

The California Coast stretches out topographically in my mind; I'm Jack Kerouac, going south by bus on the 101, and it's pulsating, this coast, a mess of tumbling waves and grinding techtonic plates. The beach reaches perpetually onward, smattered with driftwood teepees and various pseudo-hobo shelters, bird-ravaged seal carcasses and stringy kelp. Nature, in her element, manages to stun with beauty even amidst too-large houses and tacky RVs; quietly she alludes to a bygone solitude and glory. And I open wide my eyes to honor her, determed not to ignore this free chance to behold art. The seaweed-strewn, beloved Pacific is breathing with Luna's tides. The ocean is a living thing, lapping at the crooked edge of broken land, kissing and licking Earth's wounds faithfully, healer that she is.

I listen to Conor Oberst sing, She sends me pictures of the ocean in an envelop, so I know there is hope. Hallelu.