something else

I don't know what to do with the piece, `Death and Falling Angels (for Kristin)". I think it 's a good piece and I keep re-reading it trying to work out how to extend it or give it more depth, and I keep coming up with nothing. Maybe I'm still too close to it. I still feel like crying everytime I read it. I remember walking with Kristin after Jasper was taken out of the house, and her sadness and inability to understand that finality of death. Feeling that she just wanted those few moments more with him, as the Vets rolled him in the blanket and walked out with him. I remember sitting on my bedroom window sill listening to a my neighbours grief at 2am in the morning as he screamed `my Karen, my Karen', when they brought him the news of his daughters death, thrown out of the back window of the car as it left the highway and rolled down an embankment. I still cry when I remember his grief, unbearable, inconsolable. I remember the shockwaves of Steves death, "Hey...

There's lots of times I just hold conversations with no-one. Sometimes they're about nothing, sometimes they are about ideas, sometimes they are about trying to make sense of something. Lots of times they are about trying to work out why someone else said or did something. Lots of times they're just strings of words I like the sound of. Tonight I'm wondering about an acquaintance who has been playing a different type of word game and I'm not sure whats going on. I thought I had control of the word game, but then it turned and went into a dark space. I've brokered a ceasefire, but am not sure what I've bought! Someone once told me I try to analyse things too much. I don't think so, I think that humans are worth analysing, an endless source of engagement. But it usually brings me undone, because people then want to lean on me and I'm not very good at being leant on. I just hear and (think) I understand. It doesn't mean I can fix anything! The o...

My daughter finally said something to me the other day that stopped me in my tracks. She said "your sisters try to make you fit" (or something like that) "you take risks with life, how come you do that?" and it took me a while to sort out what it was that she was asking and then to find the answer. Firstly I said "Well you know, it was when I was raped so young and I thought that I just had to survive." and then I added "and it was being diagnosed with insulin dependant diabetes when I was 25 and realising that I was mortal.", but actually I think am just like this. Maybe I would have grown this way anyway. But what was nice about the whole conversation was that she appreciated my struggle to be me and that she didn't judge it, just accepted that this is how I am. I think so many of us live inside our heads. We go about our daily work all the time seeing the world in images and conversations that roll across the screen inside our brain. I h...