ask the knot in your back what might be stuck there, she says.
is it a belief?

it is the ultimate, biggest, baddest belief, and the ultimate, biggest, baddest knot, the spiritual and the physical combined and intertwined, and it will take as many years to undo them as it took years to do them up, is my wager.

the sun is beating down and all the flowering trees are bursting and my house has become again a place of music and light, laughter and barbecue sauce, women and warmth. this is in no small part due to the return of one emily joy, who will be setting up shop in the attic for the coming months.

as always in times when there is a lot going on that i am happy about, the heart goes right onto the sleeve, and my armor gets torn off and tossed in the closet. not a wise move at all, but an automatic one.

i am trying hard not to sink into a life that i will be rudely wrenched out of. though ain't that always the way? it's the life of a flaneuse, living like a fish, diving breathing loving inhabiting, misty-eyed about location and vocation. and then seasons change, mad things rearrange, everyone you're close to goes off to school or their jobs in new cities or rifts happen for other reasons, you go crazy, it's the winter again, you find yourself in your head, and alone, inert. it's the life cycle of the artist, perhaps. except if i'm going to call myself that, i think i have to start making something.

the past few days a lot of people have traced the skyline on my arm, re-drawing my attention to it. which building is this one, is this one? these ones are all ones i have my heart wrapped in, especially in this season. this is the last of these seasons i will be burning my candle at both ends here, for a while. splitting open this head.