This weekend, I started reading “The Audacity of Hope” by Barack Obama. Now most of you probably realize that I have a pretty active imagination (over-active some may say but I digress…). The strange thing about being so over-familiar with the author’s voice is that when I read the book, I can’t help but to hear his voice in my head. It’s a little disconcerting…

This weekend’s plans got a little messed up. Once again, we probably got about 6 inches of snow. That’s a lot for us here. For whatever reason, the roads were not plowed well at all and no one here knows how to drive in the snow. We were supposed to have some friends over for dinner last night but the roads were too bad for anyone to get here. Kind of a bummer…

On the upside, I was able to pick up my wedding dress yesterday!

The sweetest taste
Is very first…

Drawn out
Long
Heavy
Heady with intention
Hands grasping
Pushing
Summer heat sneaking through the window
Breath, memory collide
And then it’s over

You live in this moment
Waiting for the change to come
It doesn’t
And you simply wonder what you were missing before

(27.   Something about sex without ever mentioning the actual act or vocabulary of sex. Page Dr. Freud if you have to. Heh. Mode of creation open- ( 5 pts), 20.   Something with  Virginity as a theme- mode of creation   open- ( 3 pts))

I rely on my hands a lot. I rely on my clients’ hands even more. I never saw myself doing this as a job or making this my career. I started out in school thinking that I wanted to become a social worker or a counselor or someone that really was able to help others. To a degree, I think I do still help people. At least, I hope that I do. Either way, you can’t control what skills your hands give you and this is simply my lot in life. Good skills shouldn’t go to waste.

I think sometimes my skills are just mistaken for another sideshow attraction here on Venice Beach. There’s a bunch of others just like me here. Some of us have real skills and some of us are great pretenders. There are psychics and palm readers and the crazy political people and the slew of young new agers that give free hugs. We’re all here. We are all part of the big glittery sideshow. The tourists come amused by us all, amused by the sights and sounds and big muscles.

I carefully decorated my shop. I knew that if I wanted to draw customers, skills couldn’t be the only thing I had going for me. My shop is dark with a bit of ambient lighting. There’s dark purple paint on the walls and a sort of fabric tent on the ceiling. I always have candles and incense burning. There’s a few statues around for added interest and mystique, both important in my line of work.

Most days I sit in my shop reading the latest celebrity gossip rag (it’s a minor failing, I know) and waiting for a customer to come in. Sometimes I hire one of the new agers to draw people into the shop.

Most of the people that come in are tourists or younger folks who come from places like North Dakota and Arkansas trying to make a living as the next big actor or actress in Hollywood. For right now, they’re waiters and waitresses just trying to scrape by. They mostly come in giggling with their friends. They don’t believe in the power that their hands have to guide them through life and I suppose I don’t really care if they believe or not just so long as I get my $15.

Hands are powerful things. They have the power to shape the world more than we can ever initially recognize. Eventually these customers may realize this but for right now, I remain simply another attraction on the beach.

(56.  Something featuring a psychic or palm reader- mode of creation open ( 4 pts), 57.   Something using hands as a symbolic motif. Mode of creation open. ( 3pts))

A single rose

Petals perfect

Color deep red

Sits on a table in a vase near the window

Gathering any light it can

Leaves still attached

Thorns still attached

It has watched lovers reunite

Lovers untie

New lovers

Old lovers

Those that never have loved

And those with that of the unrequited kind

Deep red color witnesses the hopes

The dreams

The failures

The successes

The defeats

In this tiny coffee shop

(17.   Read about any particular plant and its properties or notable details and use what you learn to create something- Mode of creation open- ( 3pts), 60.   Something entitled “The history of these flowers.” Mode of creation open. ( 4 pts) )

Last night I got into my pjs and got into bed with a nice hot cup of soy chai. I flipped on the tv to watch the State of the Union address with the Architect. Throughout the speech, I made snarky comments about the members of Congress they showed on tv and about what was being said (believe me, I’m an absolute joy to watch political speeches with because I enjoy talking back to the tv).  It’s really easy for me to make these comments from the comfort of my bed. I know that being a member of Congress or being the President are two jobs that I never want to have. I mean never, ever.

It’s very easy for me to watch these people on tv and say that I know how to do things better than them. Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. I wouldn’t really be able to figure out until I stepped into their position. I recognize this (as much as I hate to dis my political prowess). The President inherited a lot of different issues where I would not even begin to know where to start in on fixing them. He inherited a most difficult task.

 I would never want that much pressure falling down on me. There are all sorts of people in the United States that you have to try to speak to and to help feel like they are being heard. I have to imagine that you’re being pulled in no less than a hundred different directions by someone that just wants to be heard. There are wars to consider and initiatives like healthcare to ponder and the giant issue of the economy. No matter what you do, no matter what action you take, there’s going to be someone that gets mad at you for not choosing a different way, their way. Any time you speak, your words and facial expressions will be dissected by the talking heads. Any negative reaction that anyone has about what you do will be flashed on the news over and over again. Anytime you do something that the majority of voters consider a good thing, it’ll be a flash in the pan on the news and nothing more. No, I’d never want to be President. There are a lot of perks that go with the job but I am not sure I would be able to handle the pressure long enough to partake.

What job would you not want to have?

Something happens to the ground at the gloaming. Of course you have all of the colors of the sky going to sleep for the night swirling about. You have pink and purple which fade into deep indigo. The ground changes too. Most people don’t notice that. They focus on the bright colors and the way the sun seems to slide down the sky like a big egg yolk. But the ground does indeed change. The change is subtle but it’s there. It’s one of those things that you just have to be willing to look for. You don’t notice it much here in town. You certainly can’t notice it from these dirty windows in front of which I now spend most of my days.

I can remember being a little boy out on the farm. We had fields that stretched for miles and miles. We grew corn and beans mostly with a bunch of smaller plots of different things. Summer would come and my brother and I would lie outside in the evening after dinner and watch the gloaming creep over the fields. After a long day of helping our father in the fields, the gloaming was our little bit of peace. We would lay a blanket on the ground and simply be content to be outside in the fresh air, just relaxing. We’d bring a couple of our comic books outside and strain our eyes to read them until the daylight fell away totally.

The ground seems to swell under the gloaming. It grows. There are more shadows. The size of fields at dusk seems to stretch and stretch in order to kiss the setting sun. It is a simple miracle but perhaps those are some of the best kinds.

(64. Something inspired by this photo by Windupherskirt- Mode of creation open ( 3pts) , 42.   Something that takes place at the gloaming. The gloaming being significant either in function or symbolism.  Mode of creation open- ( 3 pts) )

Last night, we drove into DC to have dinner with one of Phil’s childhood friends and her mom (another good family friend). We had to drive down to Capitol Hill (in the southeast quadrant of the city). It was raining and I wouldn’t have wanted to go out had we not been meeting anyone and then we turned down Pennsylvania Avenue. Many of the avenues in DC are grandiose French style avenues and that is especially true in the case of Pennsylvania Avenue. It is a grand avenue. Wide and gorgeous, it courses between the White House and the Capitol. The view towards the Capitol is stunning no matter what time of day you look but it is especially impressive at night and even more so in a steady rain.

I let out an audible gasp as we turned onto the avenue. The Architect look over at me quizically as I pointed out how gorgeous the Capitol looked. It was really a sight to behold.

I love living in an area that even after living here for so long still manages to take my breath away.

(59.   Something honoring the landscape you love best. Mode of creation open. ( 3 pts) )

I am an extrovert

Though I may be shy

…quiet…

When you meet me

I can be as accepting as the day is long’

Until I’m not

I’m happy most of the time

Though I feel as late that most of my fictional characters have demons

I’m strong

I’m wishing for something, somewhere a little more beautiful

Something further away from here

Complacency has never been my thing

I’m still the “prairie fire that wanders about”

(61.   Write a list poem entitled “Confessions” ( 4pts))

It was never a symbiotic relationship. She truly sucked everything out of me. She was a parasite. The beginning was fine. We were in love. We loved. We had a partnership, a real partnership. That’s what you want in a relationship, right? You want partners, equal partners; people who actually share with each other. You want people who want to work on things and build better things together. That soon unraveled. I watched it before my very eyes. It felt like drowning. I’d give a little bit more, simply hoping to alleviate the situation, only to be pushed down further and deeper than before. She held me under, choking me with her words and actions.

She was a parasite. When you love someone and have this grandiose idea of what love is supposed to be, you do everything to keep it going. Sometimes people are pushed to give up and love will end just like that, a trickle of water on the ground where once there was a fountain. I didn’t give up. I couldn’t. I put too much effort into the whole thing by then. I thought I could make it work. She knew that and she kept pushing.

We were sitting at one of the outside tables at the neighborhood restaurant. Traditional Italian food, candles, and red-checked tablecloths. Dinner had been silent that night, another failed attempt in trying to bring back the idea of “date night” to our relationship. We paid and got up to walk home. I kissed her on the cheek. She let me but I could feel her stiffen under my touch and just barely pull back. It was a simple act but in that moment, I knew that nothing I could do would pull us back from the edge. I suddenly became very fine with that idea. It only takes a moment.

(6.       Something in which parasites are used as a theme or symbolic motif.- Mode of creation open- (4 pts), 63.   Something about a kiss that changes everything. Mode of creation open. ( 4 pts))

As I think is the case in many big cities, DC is the land of charities and benefits. It’s the land of infinite causes. With everything in Haiti going on, you can bet that there are tons of events going on to support Haiti. There’s specials in restaurants down here where a percentage of your bill goes to the earthquake victims. There’s places set up all over to donate items and money. There has also been a bunch of galas that have started cropping up. Galas are typically events with fancy dresses, black ties, heavy hors d’oeurves, open bars, etc. The Architect and I came across one particular gala where all of the proceeds from the gala go towards the Red Cross. The gala includes all of the normal gala stuff including a networking opportunity (huge business in DC).

It was this particular gala that sparked a conversation between the Architect and I. We were discussing whether or not it’s in good taste to have a gala like this especially when the cause is so great. The corporations sponsoring the gala are probably shelling out thousands of dollars to throw the gala. Each ticket for the gala was $100. We disagreed with each other strongly.

The Architect believes that people should simply give and that it looks really bad for there to be a gala where people drink whiskey and enjoy themselves. He thinks that it cheapens the cause of supporting the Haitian earthquake victims.

On the other hand, I believe that while it would be better for people simply to give out of the goodness of their hearts, sometimes these events can help grease the wheels so that people give more money to a good cause.

What do you all think?