Our cathedral

You let yourself in after-hours,
because you knew I would be here.

Strange how just-above-a-whispers reverberate wall to wall;
explanations bathed in smoky breath

seeping from your lungs to mine,
crowding me out of reverie, out of skin,

as I become the sounding board to every future apology you’ll give.

You have me up against the marble,
(cold stone walls a vertical casket),
and my legs are giving…out.

When I was a little girl, this wasn’t how I pictured it:

you in gaping shadows,

a stained-glass Jesus fracturing

into phantom limbs between us.

Photo by Rounds, Cathedral-Girona-Spain-2012


phantom limbs

Photo by Rounds, Phantom Limbs

Mantra (for a single gal)

how to love

Quote from Gut Symmetries by Jeanette Winterson

An art history kiss

Les Amants, 1928

An art history kiss

“My painting is visible images which conceal nothing; they evoke mystery and, indeed, when one sees one of my pictures, one asks oneself this simple question ‘What does that mean’? It does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable.”

René Magritte

Letter from Austen

Here’s an entertaining excerpt from the letter I just received from my best girl, Austen. She’s living in Lancaster, England now:

“…It has been a typical first month in a foreign country- lonely really. I charge my phone about 1x/week. The battery never dies because no one ever calls me. I have been avoiding interactions at the bank, the T-Mobile store, and the bus station, because I am tired of feeling like I have 2 heads. Sometimes I know the person helping me in a restaurant/store/bar is being rube but I feel obligated to continue being polite so as not to further tarnish the reputation of all Americans.

The past few days I have buried myself in trip planning. It’s been a wonderful distraction. The conversation with Google Search goes something like this:

Me: Where should we go in Tuscany?
Google: “Tuscany Tourism”
Me: (click and stare for 2 to 42 min at crappy Italian Tuscany websites)
Google: “Tuscany towns to visit: Florence, Lucca, Pisa, Sienna, Cinque Terre”
Me: (clicking on images) Oh look at this. This is so cool. Oh wow, such cool buildings. Oh it looks a little cloudy in this picture. I can’t tell if it seems nice or dingy. This site said it was nice. But that was from 2008. That’s only three years ago. I wonder if there are good restaurants here.
Google: “Lucca restaurants”

AND what do you know? All of a sudden its 4pm, getting dark, I haven’t been outside all day, I feel like a blob, and worse, I am wasting my time in England on the Internet.

On the flip side, my “activities” are working out well. I have Spanish class on Monday nights. It’s funny to listen to British people speak Spanish with a British accent. My teacher is from Peru. She is absolutely lovely and disorganized. We receive numerous unrelated handouts each class that seem to serve little purpose.

On Wednesdays I have a ceramics class. I am working on making a friendly monster sculpture– was tired of throwing ugly mugs on the wheel. So switched to something where being ugly is a bonus.

On Wednesday evenings, I go to Scottish dance with the 70+ crowd. There are people there well into their 80s dancing. Its like square dancing, but to Scottish music and everything is in a pattern. I’m constantly “reeling” the wrong way or giving my hand to the wrong “corner partner”. They tell me I’m doing well, but I think they just like having a young person there. It’s fun to do something completely new and I enjoy living in a British sitcom for a few hours a week. Oh and we stop halfway through class for tea and biscuits…naturally.

I’m playing on the Lancaster City soccer team. Practice is Thursdays, and games on Sundays. I’m the second oldest…most of the girls are 19-21 (insert smiley face). Fun to be part of a team- I think I’ll really enjoy it. Great exercise, love sports of course. The girls can be a bit caddy and standoff-ish, but they’re 19 and warm up a bit more each time.

One last thing, maybe you know this, British fashion is appalling. Who am I to talk really? But I have seen more Laura Ashley floral prints here than I have in my lifetime. Not to mention that usually the floral print is barely covering a mildly overweight ass. And then, 6-inch heels, and a polka dot hand bag. HELP ME. I’m truly afraid to get my hair cut here…”

It’s getting old

They plan to raze the hospital where I was born.
A football stadium will be constructed in its place.
I don’t even like football.
My birth suddenly makes me feel displaced.

Sprawling in an iridescent slew of anxiety-
it’s sudden. One glass of wine hangs me over,
coffee breaks me out,
smoking threatens superfluous fine lines,

and every youthful thing I do has the air of nostalgia.


Just be yourself, he said. And smile.

So I did, while they tore off my flesh.

A jaunt into Asia

One of the parts I dig most about writing for Core Architect is the research involved. I am learning so much about interior design and architecture, and find myself personally inspired to create a more aesthetic space in my own home.

Check out today’s article entitled Japanese and Chinese Design Style and see how to design your home with Asian-inspired elements by following a few general rules. Or, break the rules and create an Asian fusion interior!

Letter to Austen

Letter to my best girl Austen who recently moved abroad:

“Hi Sauce,

Loved your letter and your gift. I was just thinking about how much I wanted to hear about your life right now, and even though your card was void of specifics, I got the picture. And I do know the exact ups and downs of what you described. Anyplace new, anyplace foreign… well, c’mon there are wonderful surprises and some shitty ones just to keep things interesting. Like, who knew I would get free housing in Costa Rica!?!?!! And who also knew that the bed would be a 4 foot piece of foam and I would be sharing the space with cockroaches?! Well, you’ve lived in Africa, so I’m hardly telling you anything you don’t already know…

So, 30th birthday evening was fun last night. Had a lovely dinner with the LA tribe. Then Carolyne and I decided to go out on the town and still managed to take a cab home by midnight (sign of the changing times) only to find we were locked out. Many shenanagans later… involving Carolyne stepping in dogdoo and traipsing through the neighbors house so she could shimmy from their balcony to ours, only to find that door locked as well, then shimmying back to the wrong balcony and thus barging into a random neighbor’s house where everyone screamed in unison and Carolyne cried out, “I meant to come through a different balcony!” (because that doesn’t sound weird at all)… throw in some hysterical fits of laughter and then suppressed grief because we were cold and hopeless… to Big Brother Coop coming to the rescue and lending us the spare couch. He was also then kind enough to cart us to Starbucks in the morning while we begroaned the imminent locksmith fee, and even walked us to our door where… yes… he pushed lightly and it yawned widely open. NOT.EVEN.KIDDING. So, good to know turning 30 hasn’t precluded ridiculous tales.

Okay, love thee beyond. Fill me in with at least one specific… I know you have one in there.