when the wave breaks

waves 3

“And darling we will be fine, but what was yours and mine
appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes /
But if it’s all just the same, then will you say my name,
say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks?” ~ Joanna Newsom

Moments ebb and flow, swelling regularly


Peaks of inspiration, emotion inevitably fall into lulls,

forming troughs of calm or disconnectedness.  

Salt water brimming, overflowing in drops, maybe rivulets:

pressure released, gravity wins.

Some times a slow surge, a glassy-smooth sailing:

thin clear sheet shining the sand.

Each one unique but behaving the same, following familiar energetic patterns:

Climax, crest, curl, collapse.

Reach out, retreat, repeat. 


The Land of the Lost and Found

IMG_1276 edit

Today I woke up lost
then found myself
with eggs benedict
on a bright red vinyl seat
in kitchy 50’s diner.

I found myself
walking forever
ears unplugged
mind massaged open
by ocean waves.

I found my face
slapped awake
by the cold,
this soul entranced,
engrained in
every beach detail.

I found myself
frequently photographing
trees, ocean, shells
intermittently pulling over
on the walking path
reaching for notebook
to scrawl these words.

(I wondered what the joggers were thinking
but didn’t care)

I found myself
in this place of
morning-midday sun.

Because dusk
that in-between place
day’s pre-death breath
brings uneasiness.

I’m better now
at finding a way
through the dark
without losing myself.

Better, now,
At finding myself
present there and
waiting to be
born again

by morning.

sloping into autumn


Last night was the first night in a long time that I really, really didn’t want to be alone. I’d had a glorious day: a massage, beach time with lovely friends, a bit of elephant journal work.

But I woke up around 130am feeling feverish and scared, but I didn’t know why. My legs couldn’t shake that too-close-to-the-edge feeling, that vertigo-style pain and weakness. I don’t know where that feeling came from. I’d even scanned back into my dreams to try to figure out if they’d been nightmares.

They’d been strange and kind of scary, but I didn’t remember feeling terrified enough while in them to warrant this kind of feeling.

It wasn’t one of those things where you think someone else is in the apartment, or breaking in. I looked around for signs of that but it wasn’t the case.

What the hell were you trying to tell me, body? What was so deeply frightening?

This morning that feeling hangs with me, and so I’m not myself.

I know that with the onset of autumn, it’s going to be a relatively fast drop from the apex that was my birthday month, July in all it’s (my) glorious sunshiny ego. July with all it’s playtime, the place that spring had sprung us towards.

It didn’t take much effort at all to get up there; it felt like we’d been sprung upwards and forwards, landing at the top, new, loved (loving), faces all aglow.

I can already feel the shorter days, smell the drying grass, spot the dried leaves.

I would rather enjoy the roll downhill than fall down it, but I might need a helping hand.

Which hand(s)? Where are you? Do you need to be steadied too?

These lyrics (the song) seem to resonate of late. Perhaps it’s all the ocean and beach imagery.

“And darlin’ we will be fine but what was yours and mine 
seems to me a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes. 
But if it’s all just the same then will you say my name 
say my name in the morning, so that I know when the wave breaks?

I wasn’t born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight
No I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully-formed, 
knock-kneed and all bright. 
So enough of this terror, we deserve to know light, 
and grow evermore lighter and lighter
You would’ve seen me through but I could not undo that desire.”

~ Joanna Newsom (Sawdust & Diamonds)