I think, therefore, I think

  A day late? Well Happy 2nd, anyway!

  Can we still have the party?

  (I wore pink...)

(only slightly exaggerated)

  Ok, I'll admit to having a collection of toy oddities but this one is over the top (even for me):

That toy is just so...wrong!
For some reason though...Little Pee makes me think of...
 
                         (Click here for a Peep Show)

I heard that Boston had more snow...
It's a good time to snuggle up for the day!

for going away!! I missed so many great things!!

PG spent 14 hours yesterday moving. I decided to downsize some of it. But it left its mark on my body.

I actually used a U-Haul for the reason that a lesbian SHOULD use a U-Haul. That's me...breaker of stereotypes...

oh! and I missed my own anniversary party??? LAME! Now I'm a sad pirate...

My thoughts on the nature of AE:

I see both sides of the coin ... it's the reality of an unreality, sometimes. Especially when "hot topics" really pick up. I site specifically the whole curfuffle between Sarah Warn and the writer that popped up lately. I think a lot of people use the site as a way toward self-importance. I think many women don't feel comfortable, or are somehow unable to voice their opinions in their "real lives" ... so they use AE as their mircrophone, and in so doing, often express themselves in ridiculously two-dimentional ways...

but ...

I have met some of the most wonderful women on THIS thread - which is why it's the only place I post with any regularity. I do not belong to any sort of "community" in my real life. I'm just not interested. My sexuality is only a part of who I am - it isn't the whole package. And with I, Think specifically - we've somehow managed to attract like minds and crazy souls, and turn off others - just by virtue of being our rebellious, free, intelligent, eloquent, cranky selves. I've always felt as those of us "Think" regulars are exactly who we are. on remarkably deep levels. And I wouldn't trade us for all the coke in Columbia ...

okay ... maybe if it was ALL the coke ... 

I can take you higher ...
Ooooohhh I'm on Fire.

To start our Monday off right...

The pennycandystore beyond the El
is where i first
fell in love
with unreality
Jellybeans glowed in the semi-gloom
of that september afternoon
A cat upon the counter moved among
the licorice sticks
and tootsie rolls
and Oh Boy Gum

Outside the leaves were falling as they died

A wind had blown away the sun

A girl ran in
Her hair was rainy
Her breasts were breathless in the little room

Outside the leaves were falling
and they cried
Too soon! too soon!  

What a wonderful poem. Thank you for introducing me to Ferlighetti. I hadnt read him before. And somehow I can relate so well to Cocteau's quote. 

I've been absent the past couple of days and it seems no one else is posting...

The other day, I nearly posted E. E. Cummings after PG's Ferlinghetti post.

Now...I see that monkey's status indicates that "The world is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful." :-)
So...
I'm going to post my favorite E. E. Cummings poem:

i carry your heart with me
by E. E. Cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling) 

                                                      i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

        (Click on the pic to hear Cameron Diaz read it.) 

 my favorite e.e.:

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond

my experience, your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which i cannot touch because they are so near

your slightest look will enclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and

my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow everywhere carefully descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility: whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens, only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands 

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for eachother: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis

I feel there is an angel inside of me, she'd say,
whom I am constantly shocking...

 He who draws noble delights from sentiments of poetry is a true poet, though he has never written a line in all his life.
George Sand

Since you all posted 3 of my favourite ee cummings, I thought I'd post some Pablo Neruda....

"To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."
-Emily Dickinson

It's getting hot in here ... perhaps I should shake it up a bit.... 

I feel there is an angel inside of me, she'd say,
whom I am constantly shocking...

I received a note at rehearsal tonight that really deflated my sails. This does not happen very often. I'm a good actor, I can take notes with the best of them. I ALWAYS take my notes.

Tonight, I had an honest, genuine emotional reaction to my scene partner, in a completely different way than I have experienced yet. I was so proud, so happy with the way the scene went. I was sure that I had broken new ground and would be lauded as such.

The note was, "Don't have that reaction so soon. Save it for the next time you come in, but don't let it out to her." 

......

Okay. I thought the whole point of being an actor was to have (and express) the emotions in the moment of the action. My job is to keep myself alive in the story of the play, and respond/react as I can, right? Did I miss something in my years of training? I've NEVER received a note like that. Even my scene partner was disappointed (she really liked my moment too....)....as a director, I would never give that note.

Besides asking me to delay my reaction, he's also asking me to have the reaction with a completely different person, about 15 minutes later....when I've moved to a totally new space. So now my through line is all weird, my emotional map is off, and I'm just plain pissed off. 

On the plus side, I was shot three times in the stomach and released early. 

Why do I do this again?

I feel there is an angel inside of me, she'd say,
whom I am constantly shocking...

sorry about your note. 

I had also a silly day. I am taking a week off (this is earned holidays right?). I said good bye to my sort of direct boss when I was about to leave at 9 pm) He said " i ll see you on Monday". I said " no, you wont, I am on holidays, I have been talking about it for weeks". He replied " you have not asked me formally for your holidays, I still have to authorise you (this authorisation is really administrative, I dont report to him)  and I havent." So I went back to my office, drafted a formal request, and a yellow note on it that said " One has to bow deeper to the dwarves"

He is going to be pissed off when I came back methinks.  

I knew you would approve. 

I am going to San Francisco for a conference at the University.  

While my day is full of things to do, I find myself with an hour alone. 

It's the kind of afternoon I remember from my childhood. Quiet, sunny, not too hot, not too cold. The type of day where people wash their cars on the lawn, or search through old, forgotten boxes in the attic - where we spend some moments alone in the name of another activity. It's the kind of day that would be great for the beach, if I weren't so sure of the throngs of people out and about today. I love the beach, but I hate crowds.

Laura Nyro just popped onto my itunes list ... "all I ask of living is to have no chains on me/ all I ask of dying is to go naturally..." there are deaths everyday, and not just  expiration of body. Endings, breakings, partings ... there have been a lot of partings in my life recently, some I brought to fruition, some I didn't. But there is much potential for grace and growth in letting go, and courage in the mantra of doing the best I can. It's all I can do, but what brilliant light comes from the lesson of failing epicly? What enlightenment can I learn from losing beautifully? A lot, I think.

It's days like today where I could just sail away, and not return. For someone so constant and in love with loyalty, I am having an active affair with open-endings, and unspecified time-lines. There's a difference between defining an idea, and pounding it into submission with details. Would you like to go away? Yes. When will you come back? I don't know. How will you get there? I don't care.  How will you survive? I just will.

The world is changing, and so many of us are grasping to the few remaining tendrils of what were, shutting our eyes like children to the black hole unknown of what will be. I am just as poor now as I was in college, but it's possibly the happiest I've been since. Into the wild, my friends, return to the womb we destroyed so long ago, the connection we severed in the name of Advancement. Return to the sea, reclaim our selkie selves, and let that which is greater provide. We are, all of us, out of control. To mold? Or to flow? Or is it somewhere in the middle? Only you know, and only you feel the center of your own infinite happiness. I am burrowing, fast and furious, to mine. 

I feel there is an angel inside of me, she'd say,
whom I am constantly shocking...

  That was sheer eloquence (as usual)...

 Your post brought to mind the works of Winslow Homer...

 I think there is a high level of appreciation in this room for your musings...

  You write journals, I draw pictures--my output, too, has dwindled due to lack of daydream time...

  You could not be a true 'woman of the sea' (I just couldn't write 'seamen') if you didn't dig some Homer...