Cut, cut. - 2007-02-09

No, really... how are YOU? - 2006-10-23

And now, finally: something (ish) - 2006-07-27

What Happened to March and April, eh??? - 2006-04-25

Well hello there, February. - 2006-02-16

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< L DykeWrite3 # >

2005-04-15 - 4:17 p.m.

So Hello.
I hope y’all are well.

I don’t know if I told you guys this or not, but since my BELOVED and CHERISHED Therapist & Friend died—suddenly… in December, I’ve been writing her letters. Every day. Start my day with a letter to her. If only I had the address of where to send them.

So. Some days, tough days, there is more than one letter. Makes sense, right? For me, it feels like I’m talking to her--- and I try desperately to listen for her wisdom in return. To go deep and listen to what she might be saying back to me.
Hummingbird tapping at my window. All that.

So. Now. Lately. I’ve been also kind of STREAM OF CONSCIOUSNESS WRAMBLING (“Wrambling”= a combo of Writing and Rambling) privately.
Not on here. Which, quite frankly, bums me out. I don’t want THIS PLACE to become obsolete. Lose it’s vision/mission. I want to keep it FRESH and ALIVE with all the COMINGS and GOINGS and ETC’s.

I guess I feel like I’ve been cheating on y’all. With myself. As if. As if any of the ramblings are deemed less self-indulgent than any of the others. As if. As if there’s a process by which I chose WHERE I’m going to put the ramblings. (“Oh, these here, these writings are too racey for the kids. And these… well, these are just too painful…”)
Yeah. Right. Like it works like that.
As if. Finely Tuned. Nope.

Wanting to only share the EXTREMES ‘aint really a nice way of playing it. AS IF only the HIGHS and LOWS are deemed worthy enough for a more-public(ish) consumption. Here’s what I’m saying: THIS PLACE has never been a : “Oh my gawd, I just got back from the mall and….” or “Oh my gawd, I just tried the newest flavor of Dorritos and…” or “Oh my gawd, I just had the most amazing SEX and….” (okay, maybe once or twice on that last one) I guess I’ve tried to ramble on and on in an “Adventures of…” kind of way, and whenever they show you an ADVENTURE in a movie or on TV, they never include the parts without dialogue or compelling action. They just don’t. They don’t because you wouldn’t want to watch. Uh huh. Indeed. As if. So. Yeah.

I guess I stay away when there isn’t any dialogue or compelling action (or, if, bite-your-tongue, I’m actually busy and working on something). AND—I don’t intend to change that… but I guess I do intend to review and revise my methods of judging WHAT DEFINES compelling action. I’ll get back to you on that.

In the mean time:

All PHOTO SHOOTS that my AMAZING Girlfriend/Same-Sex Partner/Lady-Lover/Meal Ticket/Kick-Ass Photographer, Filmmaker and Topless Dancer had been working on are COMPLETED and HAILED AS WILDLY SUCCESSFUL!!! We love her. And by “we”, I mean BOTH of ME.
The Happy-Happy Joy-Joy ME and The Sad-Sad Tortured-Tortured Clown ME.
All of the ME’s are so lucky to have HER. Oy. So damn lucky.
She brings me flowers (go ahead, hum the Neil Diamond/Barbara Streisand Song if you’d like). She brings me amazingly beautiful and wildly creative FLOWERS. She puts them in a vase. She waters them. She waters my plants. Plants that friends have given me. One plant in particular, A RUBBER TREE PLANT (go ahead, hum that song “….. just what makes that little old ant, think he can move that rubber tree plant….”). A dear-dear-dear friend gave me that plant to make a statement. Tied directly into that song I just had you hum. And you know what? That RUBBER TREE PLANT would be D-E-A-D if it weren’t for my… you guessed it…. GIRLFRIEND. Now--- does the magical RUBBER TREE PLANT lose it’s powers if I am completely oblivious to it’s daily existence in my life? Please let me know.

In addition to “watering the plants”, That chick-o-mine waters me, too. (get your minds out of the gutter, you crazy kids, not THAT kind of watering….) and I’m pretty damn lucky for that. If left to my own care, I’d be D-E-A-D as well. Wow. Woah. Yikes.

I’m working on a deadline right now, for a piece I need to finish by Midnight on Saturday. What the hell is that, anyway? “Midnight on Saturday”. Why so dramatic with the “Midnight”? Anyway, the subject is tough and the emotions that go along with it are even tough-er-errr.

So, I intermittently write/procrastinate/meditate/shop online/write/weep/take phone calls/stretch/gaze out my window and procrastinate. Fun, eh?

So VERY MUCH MORE that I should spill, but maybe it should wait until another time when I’m not PROCRASTINATING A DEADLINE? Eh?

I’m off to try… some more.

Wishing YOU and YOURS a great weekend filled with the stuff that you’ll remember when you’re looking back remembering things.

Xoxoxo ME