bridal veils

before i begin today's bit, let me tell you a detail that has been haunting me that i left off yesterday's.

the lady's green linen shirt had an applique of a butterfly, in white irridescent sequins. right in the middle of her back. my eyes locked on this glimmery butterfly and it was surreal. dreamlike. sometimes my life feels all mystical. this was one of those moments. a perfectly ordinary environment (except for the falls), and normal things going on, but i'm wafted away to this other realm. not like i leave my body or anything, but like life suddenly becomes this other dimensional reality.

the butterfly was mesmerising. it wasn't even done that well, it was just the odd placement and shinyness of it, perhaps. but i can see it now. sometimes these dream images come to light and i feel myself in a waking dream. perhaps strange. but i just deal with it. usually don't say anything.

so we go from the observation deck and they funnel you through the gift shop out to the park which faces the rapids and falls. i passed through there quickly, as shopping has lost all lure for me. i walked out the door and had to find a place to perch, i saw none immediately out the doors, then i turned and there were two parrots on a homeless guy. one a yellow fronted amazon, the other some sort of conure. i couldn't tell the species because i don't know conures that well.

anywhoo, i figure, when my people see the parrots, they'll know to find me this way.

so i keep trucking, and finally light upon a bench facing the falls, though i wanted to delight in the rapids a bit. it was farther than i felt comfortable that they'd find me. we had decided to stay together this trip. i'm notorious for doing my own thing whenever we go somewhere. i wander off alone.

i sat and just put pen to page when they found me. and gave me a tongue lashing for being hard to find. i knew they'd find me. it just might take a while. and i wouldn't have minded that in the least.

we'd set out on this journey at 10am. my family can't seem to get out the door early. so we stopped once and made it to the falls by 5pm. i didn't want to stop to eat because i'm a food camel, and can go forever without eating. i figured we could do a couple things and get food later. there's always time for food later.

so we board the trolley, it's 7pm by now. and my husband is famished. we decide to take in the cave of the winds before dinner. and this was the second time i thought myself fool for willingly going to my doom.

we wrap ourselves in clear trashbags this time, put on some cheap sandals and march to an elevator where they drop us 17 stories in the ground. people were coming out of there looking like soaked rats. so i wrapped everything we had in an extra poncho and hoped for the best. i had my journal with me and a camera. the rest could have gotten wet. but those two items no.

on our way down this drop, the young guy with a sunburned face, he was lobster red says,

they built this shaft in 1922.

not a comfort, considering i'm crammed in there with at least twenty others. and if the thing stops, we'd panic.

we proceed down the long tunnel, to the shoddiest construct of a landing i've ever seen. it is perched on the rocks in front of the bridal veil falls. which moves only 1% of the water going over niagara falls.

when you reach the hurricane zone, you will be twenty feet from the falls.

the redfaced young man announces.

signs are everywhere, watch your step, hold your kids. so i am thinking,

great. this will be interesting.

we march down the stairs and across a low landing. proceed up the slipperiest stairs, which have been covered with plastic tread, and up toward the falls. the hurricane deck is full of people whose ponchos are whipping in the winds. it looks like they are standing in a hurricane.

the handrails were slick with algae. the green draping growths brushed off no doubt by the constant handholding. and where there were no hands to hold the rail, the moss ran with water. it was soaked.

as i'm ascending the stairs to the hurricane deck, i turn around to see how my starving husband is faring, and he is lit up like a christmas tree. the man looked like a little boy. it was great. a grin on his face like you can't imagine. it was beautiful. i wished the camera wasn't wrapped in plastic, so i could have taken a picture.

we watched my beloved go to the hurricane deck, then my girl got up the courage to skirt the deck rather than bypass it. so we started to go up the stairs, while my beloved was proceeding to descent the adjacent stairs some ten feet away. i hollered at him, and he heard me over the falls. it was amazing. he met us at the top and we got our blast of wind and water. then proceeded down. surviving another brush with death.

the rest of the trip was pretty standard fare. sightseeing. whatnot. nothing really spectacular. i wanted to get up early and sit beside the falls. that is my ideal. to go and be there, experience the thing. spend a bit of time with it. but it was more important that i spend the time with my people.

and so i did.

the falls

there were a couple significant times this weekend when i thought,

we're mad. i'm marching to my doom.

the first, upon the maid of the mist. the little ship that takes you right up to the misty center of horseshoe falls. i stood against the captain's cabin, as we were some of the last to get on that boat, we could not stand against the rail. and could feel the waters churning beneath the boat. then watching 90% (we came to find out later) of the water that courses through niagara pour down before us with such immense power, i thought,

if this captain slips up, we'll die, for sure.

is it the dramatic part of me that thinks always of my doom? i was glad that it would be a relatively quick death, as the churning waters would grab that boat and suck it under without a problem.

but we survived, as 84 other boats that day did, and returned to the dock. draped in blue ponchos which were little more than blue trashbags with hoods.

when we got off, we climbed up beside american falls and oohed and ahhhed. it was lovely. the rainbows were great. i've always liked rainbows.

when we turned away from the falls, we got in a line to leave (lines everywhere. i guess it is impossible to see a sight like that without flocks of people). there was an indian man in front of us who had on a white tshirt and stonewashed jean shorts. some black sandals. he had a wasp sitting on his slight hips. his wife had on a long green linen shirt that resembled a skirt. she had her hair in a scarf, and black pants.

of course if i see a wasp on anyone, i'm going to try to do something about it. last time i didn't move quick enough, my girl got stung.

so, i reach out, rather instinctively with my journal, and using the very corner, nudge the wasp off the guy. who promptly turns around and gives me a funny look. his wife, too.

my husband said as i was doing it,

maybe you should ask.

but i pressed on, fool that i am.

you see we were about to be crammed into a little elevator, about twenty of us. no comfortable spaces between us, so i knew who that wasp would get if it got someone, me. or my kid.

the wife said,

i wish you would have left it there.

in a tone i couldn't determine if it was annoyance with me (which, it probably was) or concern for the wasp. some people love all God's creatures. and i didn't kill it. i just whisked it away. sent it on its pilgrimage.

i said,

it was a wasp. a bug.

i wasn't sure if they understood. they probably did, but you never know.

i didn't want you to get stung (i didn't want me to get stung was more truthful).

but they turned around and ignored me after that.

we went up to the observation deck, and i am really having a time with heights. i'm not afraid of them. i just don't like them. i would rather not stand on top of a tower looking over a slight metal rail at anything.

so we took the obligatory pictures. you'll be happy to know we had a camera with us.

and i got away from the rail as it was making me feel funny.

i left my people to spend their time gawking at the heights, as they seemed to enjoy it.

if i tell you more

this has been the great question of my life. if i tell you the whole story, will you leave? if i tell you how i really feel, will you leave? if i tell you more will you leave?

i've not taken the wisest path to writing. i've not taken the wisest path to life. i've laid it all out here for anyone to see, and some part of me wishes it were not so. that i could whisper my secrets to a small community of the faithful that will never tell. but that is not who i was created to be.

i just read the most encouraging words from friends about this place of vulnerability. this place of rawness. this place i live.

look into his eyes. be present. love him.

wise counsel. i shall try.

today we sojourn to niagara falls. i've only ever seen it on the tv a couple times. i'd not have chosen to go there but for my beloved. so i'll likely be swept off my feet and awed by God. at least that is my hope.

i'll get to see some parts of new york that i have never seen, and that my friends, is what rings my bell. seeing things i've not laid eyes on before. capturing them in poetry and spending time with my people.

i have hoped that we could travel these states and see all those little nooks and crannies of interest along the way. but my husband says i'd grow tired of the endless travel, though i don't realize it now. he's probably right. he's usually right, which is probably why i get so irritated when he says stuff.

i had thought i'd stop blogging all together, but as my friend advises, i'll leak out a bit of my life and thoughts here still. i'll continue to be here for your eventual return even if i never know who you are.

today i away and hopefully won't blog tomorrow. but may. you know how it is with me. i can't seem to keep from the letters. from pouring out my heart one fragment at a time.

come back if you want me to tell you more...

powderkeg

i've never been a very good wife. the truth be told. i've been selfish, demanding, petty. all those things that make a husband want to come home and crawl in bed beside me.

the trouble is, i've tried. and the suz you know and love, is the improved version. can you imagine what i used to be like? it gives me the willies to go there. so i try not to. i try not to think back of all the progress i've made. all the babysteps i've taken toward functionality, because truth be told, i'm still a long way away from it.

sure i get through the day, but sometimes i'm amazed and wonder how.

i started this new plan this week:

contentment in action.

no more complaining. no more lamenting the way things are. just dealing with it and moving forward. ever asking,

how can i please you husband?

this has been noticed. and appreciated. if only i could make it part of my life.

i told my husband,

i'm ready for a full-blown backslide.

because daily mass was on tv and the priest said,

and God says...

and i said,

i don't want to hear it.

and muted it.

that, right there was probably the answer to all my woes, but i didn't listen. though if i had listened, it would have been some long meaningless passage from chronicles. which would have affected me not at all.

but i'm left wondering,

what would God have said?

who knows. the point here being, He's talking all the time. and sometimes when we think we could be ready for a full-blown backslide, others think we're all ready fully backslidden.

this has probably often been the case with me. and i wonder. if i am not perceived as serving God now, when i clearly am, what hope have i? does it all hang on perceptions of me and my walk with God? or is there some finality in actually being a child of God and loving him with my whole heart.

even though friends tell me i'm "not fully committed."

then i never will be,

i say. because i don't know how to commit any more of my heart, soul, life to God than i have now. i've done it all as i understand it.

but i haven't lost the fetters of secularism. because i enjoy them. i have taken up some of the old things because they speak to me more than the approved things of the church.

i don't claim to understand any of it.

my husband would like me to share with him as i do so liberally here. so honestly here. and i shall try. which will either result in a resurgence of trust between us or me like a powderkeg ready to blow.

communication has never been our strong suit. so to try to make it the only outlet for my great angst, is, well, dangerous. i'd say.

but i'm game. i'll try anything once. maybe even twice.

being a "good" wife is something i've long wanted to try. guess i'll give it a shot.

sunrise, sunset

while there isn't much in the way of sunrise in this picture, it is a chinese pistachio my beloved bought for me and we planted in the front yard. about seven years ago. it's a wee thing, still. (i noticed this picture is taken at about the same angle north, as the sunset picture. curious.)

the horizon line is what i was going for here. i would sit out on the porch in the mornings and watch the sunrise. coffee in hand, it would be pitch black out in the country where we lived, and not a light on the horizon. then slowly it would pink up. earth would creak like floorboards, the birds would rustle and call. roosters sound. cows drone in.

i became accustomed, too accustomed (apparently), to this view. this silence. this slice of life where it moved at a slow, steady pace.

this shot is the sunset out the back porch. the sun was high in the north at this point. it was early summer. the sun had not yet begun it's sojourn south down the horizon line. there were no houses obscuring views. little development. who knows what will be there when we return. if we return.

the thing i noticed about being here in the foothills, is i am visually hemmed in. the sun just appears over the trees sometime around ten and disappears behind trees sometime around four.

we went to a party on fourth of july and the man owned a great deal of property. he hadn't planted trees everywhere, but had a lake, and my eyes were able to roam the fields. i found great comfort in this visual freedom as i called it. for once, my eyes weren't locking into examination, but were able to roam. it had been so long since i'd been able to look across a plain of any size.

when we drive through the desert of new mexico, or the flatlands of texas, i always like to look. to pay attention if it is a road we've not ventured down before. there is so much to see. i like to examine it all. i like the oppenness. here, i get carsick if i look out the windows too much or try to read. that never happened in texas and it is strange to me. but fosters communication, which is a good thing.

i have never felt locked in visually, until now. growing up in so. cal, it's all buildings and developed. i never realized what i'd miss when i left texas. but then, you can never realize what you've got until it's gone.

come back

posted over at ma today, on art and soul.

the blue jays are a riot. i love hearing them. yesterday when i walked to town, they hovered about and cried and called. i understand this. i stood beneath them and watched them carry on for a bit. i imagine they are so in love with each other they cannot stand to be apart. so the call and cry,

come back. come back.

at least that is how i imagine it.

i awoke to their raucous chorus and it is truly a sound i do not mind. it soothes my heart to hear it actually. sounding something like i sound internally. reminiscent of a crow. yet distinct.

i must to town today. i try not to avoid these sojourns, but i also try to get them over as quickly as possible. i've got the white stripes cd to keep me moving along, it is reminiscent of zeppelin that i can't help but love it.

working through the artist's way by julia cameron. i haven't touched this book in a few years, but my pianist best friend said,

she has tools in there for dealing with shadow.

so again i am committing to morning pages, working through the book and nurturing the artist in me.

cameron says our inner artist is like a giant child. we must coddle it, and praise it, and lament when it is sad. i do pretty well with that, but i want my kid to toughen up. to not need. or want. or hope. or dream. i guess, i just want it to produce. i'm a good american in that respect. i've learned my lessons well. now i endeavor to unlearn them.

listening to good music helps. this get behind me satan cd is awesome. i can't recommend it enough.

one thing more, if patrice or jill go before zayra, i'll utterly lose faith in the judgment of the american people. while i must say that freakish get up she had on last night was eye catching (if i could wear spandex from head to toe and look like that, i'd wear it too. though, not gold). but seriously folks, do we think anyone other than delana, lucas, magni (convinced me last night, before then, i wasn't sold on him), storm or maybe patrice could front supernova? it is not a popularity contest. it's a band. the making of a band. i wish people would think about that before they vote for zayra. Lord have mercy.

death becomes her

went to a funeral yesterday. a lady i washed dishes with when i first arrived here in ny. she drew a crowd. the church was packed and hot. as i sat there all tacky and uncomfortable, i thought, but this is life. mostly tacky and uncomfortable. punctuated with moments of great love and kindness. i went to honor the memory of her kindness to me. hoping i would honor others with the same kindness she lavished on me. remembering someone's name is a big deal.

i am certain that any kindness is an act of God. i remember this woman would greet me by name each week. we'd kneel around the altar to have communion. the greater number of church members at this parish are over sixty. as far up as 90. still getting around. but kneeling at the altar yesterday, i looked around at the faces of those dear saints who knelt beside me as that woman had. and it was just a moment of realizing the fleeting nature of life. one moment here, the next gone. knocking on heaven's door (by guns 'n' roses) is playing as i write. curious.

the difficulty of the past few weeks seems to have turned with my attitude. i have decided to stop focusing on the problems, the shortcomings, and focus on what i can constructively do to thrive. to embrace joy. to experience life, today. since this is where i'm at.

i've thoroughly evaluated all aspects of my situation and know well the problems. i will now take a new approach, instead of lamenting, i will say,

what can i do to please you husband?

i will again become servant. lover. friend. to the one i have given my whole life to.

i was watching metallica's some kind of monster yesterday, and james hetfield said,

being sober and paying attention to life is exciting. more exciting than anything drinking or partying provided. (my paraphrase)

he also said,

the way i learned how to love things is to choke them to death. don't leave.

how many times i've heard myself say the same things. i guess that is why their new album blows my doors off. it's honest. raw. metallica on the road to healing. very nice.

i said to a friend in the course of this latest darkness,

if i survive myself, i'll be fine.

going to a funeral puts the finality of death in a different frame of reference. it is no pretty ideal. it is an ugly and sometimes cruel surprise. for those who are left behind weep and mourn. though the funeral yesterday was a celebration of a life, it was very encouraging and life affirming, there was still weeping. much weeping.

life, it seems, is precious. remember that. remind me of that. and i shall remind you.