Happy ABQ Pride!

Nightwalk

Wanderlust, Dan May, acrylic on wood panel, 2013

in the forest, there is no other animal like myself in shape, smell, or stance. every night, i stride through the trees, silently carving narrow paths into the moss, crisscrossing my way from one perimeter’s edge to another. 

the others leave me alone; they think i am strange. unlike the other animals, i require little by way of food, shelter, or sleep; as a result, i find myself with hours to fill and no purpose with which to fill them. the others scurry past me with arms full or backs piled high, sparing little more than a suspicious glance in my direction as they hurry to build their homes and protect their young. for them, everything is driven by survival, whereas i continue to thrive, regardless of how i spend my waking hours. i used to feel guilty about the ease of my life; these days, i wonder why i exist at all, since i seem to hold no place in any of the life cycles that constantly renew themselves around me.

it has been so long since i interacted with another creature; it is difficult to believe that i used to talk nonstop. years ago, there was another like me, two of us in the same forest. together, our focus narrowed on ourselves, leaving no room for questions of existentialism or purpose, each one simply existing for the other. back then, we made plans that became projects that in turn birthed new plans. we were so busy, absorbed in our own world. i didn’t understand that i was living a miracle, spending my days with another who spoke my language and shared my history. because that was all i’d ever known, i assumed that was how it would always be- the two of us, never wanting for more.

it took years to get used to being alone. at first, every cell in my body strained to wish us two back into existence, as if i could harness all the energy in the universe to make it true if i tried hard enough. When that did not work, i began to expect my own demise. our lives had been so closely linked- with one gone, surely i was soon to go too. Yet here i am, still.

OOJ: Eoin Duffy, "On Departure"

Eoin Duffy, "On Departure"

typically i have zero patience for movies with no talking ("WALL-E", i'm looking at you). when it comes to appreciating film, i'm embarrassed to admit that i'm all about fast-moving action; i have the attention span of a flea. which is why i was surprised to find myself riveted to this short film; this beyond perfect intersection of music, minimalist art, and mood transported me into another world as effectively as any "Fast + Furious" franchise.

Life Aquatic

So far, hearing loss has not been as bad as I might have thought. After one week of not being able to hear out of my left ear, I am still fascinated by its effect on how I experience my world. Everything now sounds as if I’m underwater- muddled, yet somehow melodic, harsh consonants sanded down into indistinct murmurs. While I do have to put a lot more effort into conversations, I appreciate my hearing loss most in public places- airports, trains, restaurants. I float serenely through seas of noise, insulated in a thick, cushioned bubble that gently muffles screaming kids, cell phone ringtones, and public announcements. It’s like having a soft focus camera filter for my ears; the world sounds prettier when I’m not subjected to its ridiculous chatter.

Surprisingly, I myself have become quieter, as if hearing less noise nudges me to contribute less noise to the world. Prior to this experience, I was dismissive of people who complained about everyday noises being overstimulating and annoying. I’ve always been a big fan of noise, loving both the Las Vegas Strip and the roaring ocean because both generate so much thundering noise that I feel cocooned in an exhilarating way. I like being loud, and loud places allow me to make as much noise as I want to without being shushed. Quiet places make me nervous, unsettled; they are voids that I want to fill with noise. This week I’ve learned to be more comfortable with less noise, though I think I’d still shy away from absolutely quiet places; they give me heebie jeebies.

I suspect I’ll be hearing through both ears again soon. I don’t know what caused my left ear to stuff up, and for some reason this leads me to believe that one morning I will wake up, able to hear fully again. But until then, if you need to tell me something, use lots of hand gestures.

OOJ: Toddler Pedi

can't believe this 2-yr-old sat still long enough for us to paint his nails, but he was super excited about it. of course, as soon as the last toe was done, he instantly ran off to resume his roaring + stomping at the world again.

Snapshots of Baltimore

will baltimore be the next city for me? i won't know for sure for a while, but i definitely liked what i saw during my visit this past weekend.

OOJ: Leering Unicorn Puppet

a very shady unicorn puppet i found in a toy store in annapolis, md.

he looks like the uncle you try to avoid at family events.

his other side is not much better:

lastly, a quartet of fro yo, the highlight of an afternoon of errands with my friend 

sophie + her girls. mine is "the brown one", as they called it: