Friday, December 31, 2010

the place time stays

The place time stays
and does not grow, each breath illumined
endways, endless
changeless, still.

The place a face
is held until
each thought crosses,
is redeemed,

The place we hold
and hold, and hold
and do not change,
fully unfold,

Where changes, if they come,
are counterpoint
to just the
the endlessness,

the place time says
we are---

Things have been moving too quickly for my liking. This year hardly seems to have been here at all, and my children are growing so quickly, and there are times when I look up at the bare branches of the sweetgum tree outside my house and could swear they were covered in flaming red leaves just a moment ago.

To remedy this almost panicked sense of ceaseless change, I moved really slowly yesterday. When I woke, I lit candles and did gentle yoga, and then sat in the garden to drink a cup of tea as idly as i could manage. I watched the steam curl up in long strands of early sunlight and let my eyes follow the first waking motions of the winter birds in the lemon tree.

As the day warmed I packed up my paints and my notebook and cycled down to the ocean, slowly, stopping to pick dandelions and watch herons and dip my toes in the suddenly furious waters of Ballona creek. I dug myself into the shelter of a dune and painted the ocean. I leaned up against the edge of a bridge and painted the San Gabriel mountains. I sat in a tea shop and wrote poetry and nursed a cup of hot cider for nearly an hour (breaking my record of 43 minutes with the morning tea!)

On my way home I stopped to do tai chi in my old neighborhood, drawing it out until the sun set. I walked to the grocery store, stopping to greet every single person I came across. I carried my groceries home, breathing in the crisp air and watching the clouds cross the first stars.

Time passes, whether I acknowledge it or not. It was nice to take one day to look time fully in the face. And to appreciate this place I am, now, whether or not it is my final winter here.

There is lots of other drama, but as this secret blog is becoming not-so-secret, I am finding it more and more difficult to adhere to the goal of radical honesty I began with. Sigh.

May we all find new understanding in the transformations of this new year. And may it take a little more time to pass than the last one.


  1. Oh, man I wanna do a slow day, now! I kind of did one indoors Sunday. It was soooo good.
    Lovely paintings, Dweller.

  2. Gracias, amiga! I would never have started but for you.

  3. Woah, look at you go with your Spanglish. You're so L.A.

  4. yeah. maybe i'll just stay here after all and become a famous actress and live in a 12000x12000' plaster palace. that would be a surprise ending.