monday.

55 gal lb.

there is no theory of walking, just a consciousness. but there can be a certain wisdom involved in the act of walking. it's more an attitude, and it is one that fits me all right. it's a state where you can be both alert to all that happens in your peripheral vision and hearing, and yet totally lost in your thought process...

-francis alÿs.

sunday.

window.

staring.

saturday.

truck.

people have to talk about something just to keep their voice boxes in working order so they'll have good voice boxes in case there's ever anything really meaningful to say.

-kurt vonnegut.

 

friday.

real talk.

in high school i went to a basketball camp in wisconsin with my friend and teammate, courtney.  we played 20 some odd games over the course of 3 days.  my hair was long.  i was tan.  the nails on my 2 big toes fell off.

thursday.

missile.

eavesdropping on premed students at the coffee shop = whoa doggy!

wednesday.

lot.

whistling esses.

tuesday.

cranes.

just how will mooseymcmoosles find his way back to alaska?

monday.

puddle.

i could see rushing water at the very bottom of the drain.  i spit into it and watched the glowing mass of mucus fall fast and then cling to the side of the pipe.

sunday.

stairs.

walking maps, drawing maps, talking maps.

saturday.

train.

the phone call felt familiar and so i said yes to the job.  the woman i'd be subbing for, a girl i knew in high school, thought maybe a field trip would be best.  she recommended a boat ride.  i agreed.  on the day i was to teach her kids i showed up at 1:40pm.  since classes began at 8, i was late.  i had trouble pronouncing names during roll call and wasted about an hour's worth of time.  some of them were on my side.  some of them were dancing with hula hoops in the center of the room.  i escaped and set up shop in the courtyard to sell old t-shirts to some friends i used to know.

friday.

door.

the sky is loud with planes.

wednesday.

fire.

waking

my secret way of waking

is like a place

to hide.

i'm very still,

my eyes are shut.

they all think i am sleeping

but

i'm wide awake inside.

they all think i am sleeping

but

i'm wiggling my toes.

i feel sun fingers

on my cheek.

i hear voices whisper-speak.

i squeeze my eyes

to keep them shut

so they will think i'm sleeping

BUT

i'm really wide awake inside

-and no one knows!

-lilian moore.

monday.

dish bones.

how do you make sense of something that looks like nothing?  brian greene's got me thinking about dark energy.

sunday.

anna.

knife in the ground broom in the tree.

friday.

night.

leaving the city for a few days.  mmhmm.

thursday.

bird.

making tub people smile before the race.

wednesday.

blank.

i tried twice to plug the hole with cardboard and packing tape before the fish escaped.  i watched it search for water.  a monkey fell near by.  my cousin caught a dragon underneath the leather couch and let it go.  a little girl in line told me to shut up.  i ratted her out to the teacher.  her story didn't match up with mine.  i felt guilty afterward.

tuesday.

1, 2, 3.

a row of houses turning neon colors along with the sunset.  i couldn't find delilah's.  i lost my purse.  50 miles from milwaukee avenue.  in need of a canoe and 6 towels.  they made me steal the towels from the gym.   

monday.

working.

i'm rifling through a stack of drawings.  they're matted in bright white cardboard frames.  everyone's giggling in a circle. 

sunday.

hydrant.

a bunch of us were in a park.  i asked if we needed permission to lay down the strange shapes we'd made.  the hat worn by the woman in charge tipped down over her face.  she smiled.  we all watched from the center as young people in pairs began to move the pieces around in the grass.

friday.

alley.

places matter. their rules, their scale, their design include or exclude civil society, pedestrianism, equality, diversity (economic and otherwise), understanding of where water comes from and garbage goes, consumption or conservation. they map our lives.

-rebecca solnit.

thursday.

hallway.

a sliver of sunlight on the floor of the porch.  painting over what i thought was working.  nearing 7.

wednesday.

wolf.

making problems for myself.

tuesday.

sky.

a horse was tied to a tall tree just outside the revolving doors.  a woman in a purple tank top rubbed his neck.  a small crowd of people formed near them.  i watched for a minute before unlocking my bike.

monday.

toes.

picked up where i left off 5 weeks ago.  adding color.  thinking.

sunday.

red.

we're watching a dog.  i'm nervous for no reason.

saturday.

floor.

i had an easier time on the machine today.  i was also reminded about how much i love volleyball.  on my walk to the grocery store after the game i thought about high school and seeing my parents in the stands.

friday.

listening.

walking, cleaning, curating, critiquing, flying home to switzerland.

thursday.

lincoln park.

are you good with bad habits?

-shel silverstein.

wednesday.

hot pink.

what's a matter you hey why you look so glum?  (stuck in my head all day).

tuesday.

looking up.

we watched a swinging chimp as he pissed into the crowd.

monday.

texture.

in between the teeny breaks i can see the color blue.  someone's chirping.  and grilling.

sunday.

porch.

foot, floor, pants.

saturday.

zig-zag.

we were throwing clothes from the back of a truck.  i couldn't remember the combination to my locker.  high heels on an incline.

friday.

sidewalk.

today was a great day.

thursday.

materials.

one blue ice tray, 2 umbrellas, an empty diet coke can and a skeleton.

wednesday.

city.

put your lovin' hand out.

tuesday.

street.

hauling paper, the lake and free hot coffee.

monday.

monday.

new styles krew.

sunday.

process.

a cool room.  new people.

saturday.

yesterday.

it's like i'm giving you a piece of me.

thursday.

light.

i sneak into this room twice a day.

wednesday.

flipping.

what'dya guys wanna see?  a small performance in the courtyard.  paint and gymnastics.

tuesday.

outline.

salt peanuts salt peanuts.

sunday.

phantom limb.

i tied my shorts with a rope so they wouldn't blow away.

saturday.

clouds over the lake.

he tapped his fingers on the table as they administered the test booklets.  i recognized a few people in the room.  i dipped my thumb in invisible ink and pressed it on the answer sheet above my signature.  

friday.

marks.

talking at talking to talking with.

thursday.

bridge.

noticing noticing.

wednesday.

birthdays.

bright lights & booms in the sky.

tuesday.

reflection.

we walked to state and went underground.  heading north, i watched the students.  what would it be like if this were new to me?  i wondered what they were thinking.