only, don’t wait 

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The bass player

He has a bass in a case behind his dresser 

You didn’t consider him a bass player, you lover.

He called you, “lovers”, standing together in front of the bass that leaned against the wall, next to the dresser

your lover, the bass player

And right now you can’t say, can’t give him away

And she can get something other than white cabinets in her kitchen, because he doesn’t like them, so that one day she can say, about that bass, since he isn’t really considered a bass player but wants to keep it behind the dresser, that she couldn’t give it away

An hour, writing this

5am Last night, yoga was holding poses.  Not physically painful like holding poses usually is but mentally,  as you’re waiting for him to instruct the next pose you get an anxious, pissed feeling.  A scared feeling, frustrated, flustered. Except it’s not of those things.  Not sure how to describe it.  Discussed with him afterwards.  I first asked, “was there an explanation to that I missed? (I went to the bathroom before class started) No.  When I told him how it made me feel he said “That’s your breaking point”. I equate my breaking point to physical exertion.  This was mental.  I don’t know if this is a necessary excercise.  Or, if it is beneficial, I want to be able to decide.  Why do I care?  Why can’t I enjoy something different? Am I generally unhappy…Predisposed to that instead of joy rising? Delight?  I want to make art, not go to yoga all the time.  But I want to go to yoga all the time. Then, the  Full time job.  

So yesterday, I did some art dreaming in my office. I had to print out a list to reference for work.  I hung in on a support pole that is in the office next to my computer monitor.  It became art to me.  Tall. A presence…

Recently watched a documentary with ancestor altars in it–Day of the Dead, flowers. Noticed the triangle shape of it.  The tall center. One sided though (against a wall in the home usually) but evven the big one they made outside seemed to have a front and no functional back, like a stage.  People gathered in front of it.  People approached it.  Maybe added things.  I created a female ancestor altar at home be ause of the self help book Warrior Goddess.  It is calming.  Makes you send things outside yourself and think you relate.  One more thing about altars: people put things the deceased person liked on the altar. (And the bells for  24hrs from 3pm on the day of the Dead. ) Mountain Dew soda, cigarettes, Twinkies?  I noticed last night, I stopped for a Snickers bar before yoga!!, that Marlboro regular cigarettes I used to smoke cost $7.95 a pack. I stopped when they were $3.50 maybe.  I remember when you could get two packs for $5!.  Marlboro regular cigarettes with the triangle top, red and white.  Simple. “See you Thursday.”. Talked to the man work that brings in his record player for the holiday decompression room at work (we work in retail) and his mushroom finds, brought the artist a little antique landscape painting aheput next to her computer.  A landscape to look in to.  I’ll bring him a piece of a tree I found with a nice elbow and squiggly lines from termites in it.

Dream last night buying a quilt and fabrics from an older lady, her house on a street corner. I appreciated the color combination in the bag. sepia, a dusty purple, ochre and a dusty turquoise and strips of tan satin ribbon in another bag.  (Usually that ribbon has a velvet side, I’ve been attracted to velvet lately) She charges $200.  I go back to my dad across the street in a church. He gives me money.  My mom and brother are there too. Lots of people at round tables.  A reception.  When I go to pay her the money is a brass square with a little pointing hand on top and my dad appears, telling me how to count.  I get that frustrated feeling.  The feeling you get when you do math homework and you want to release the frustration and you’ve stopped applying your mind.  So, in yoga , think about this, the goal is to hold and surpass the feeling. Is that scary?  Admitting a wrong?  Why don’t we want to go there?  Am I approaching it wrong and refusing to change my mind?  I’m not transforming.  Or I’m expecting transformation and sometimes it’s just an even keep.   I don’t know!  The times I’ve over yoga are through physical exertion.  It releases my mind. Unless I start out with pain or tired.  I’m really frustrated with yoga for the past almost two years I guess, I started yoga after a break up so I had nothing to lose and I was with myself.  Now I have alot of work to do.  I don’t want to but I want to be in a certain spot so I show up and don’t leave. At least.

Anyway, the Snickers bar last night was $1.99.  I left the store went back to the car and found a quarter in case there was tax which I calculated on my way back out to the car, about twelve cents.  There was no tax.  She looked into my eyes when I got to the register, maybe said hi.  Said, “1.99” I gave her $2.00 and she put a penny in my hand heads up, I noticed.  I had walked by a shiny heads up penny in the parking garage after work two days ago and decided not to pick it up.  I looked down at the “take a penny leave a penny” thing.  It was blue and empty.  Clean and it’s little tray sloping edges up on to a flat standing back with advertising on it.  Imglung to have to go back to see it again.  It’s strange in my imagination.  Maybe because it was empty, without functioning, it becomes a strange object.  The tray below the advertisement upright panels abouve.  Like an alter. Altar.  Alternative.  I never take a penny unless it really helps/is really needed.  Oh, that’s what it is for. You don’t notice it until you need it.  I very rarely leave a penny.  I don’t use cash alot. Sometimes there are tip jars but you don’t put just a penny in there.

I’m not finished, I’ll add to this writing later, or not.  Like how the man at work said he’s been noticing things lately and doesn’t have enough time (pull over, ax, cop, “harvesting mushrooms”) and something else about altars, the shapes maybe, and the dream maybe…

930am I remember now.  Something about Marina Abramovic. Encountering the mummified body of a man she met five years  before that made her weep by his presence…found by getting lost. And  I think something like this was said in yoga today, or was it last night.  Got to go in to get out.  Or was it a song I heard while working. In her one million, 100 thousand 111 chants she encountered some depression but also sleeping and waking became the same.  In touch with the cosmic.  You can do anything.  Not limited by small poor you.  This is what we try to do through Asanas.  But why? I don’t really want to. I thought about it in yoga today. I thought, I’ve acheived it in pieces.  I also thought, if someone doesn’t really want to be with me…I get so angry and sad…

Yoga today:. Things I wanted to remember.  One I can’t remember

The other is that I didn’t want to do the yoga.  And I thought, while doing the yoga:. Art is the only thing you can make the way you want it to be.

my pictures from lately above and below -hanging my art things, sewing, in the office, bridges I’m fascinated with lately: