Firstly, your
Hesitant hands
Sunk me.

--

I see my lights leading forth,
Dotted, etheric.
The darks
Cling, cling, cling.

Segments

Tread me a stately measure
Anchor me with a
Half-hooked truth

Forego your obdurate
Questioning

Just ask.


--

You traced flowers with
Ballpoints
Shone a six-ton smile
Right at me
Then flicked back - far-eyed.

Complaints/Boundless Enthusiasm

I'm completely exhausted, and I really should crash. But I feel like posting, because today has kind of been spectacular, or at least most of it. Work, although somewhat full on, as it has been all week, is getting better. And it was Casual Friday, which just makes me ever so pleased. Turning up to work wearing Nikes, faded jeans and a black Bonds t-shirt makes me a very happy girl.

Oh god, I'm too tired to be interesting. I blame sleeping about four hours last night. Obviously it takes no effort at all to convince me that staying up disgustingly late is a wonderful idea when I start at 8.30am.

But this post wasn't meant to be about the tired! No, I want to talk about all of the good things that have come of tonight, and they include the beginning of an effort to run. I kind of wish I could run five kilometers and not collapse. So I'm actually going to try. Not all at once, but Tran and I totally made the effort tonight. It was better than I thought, and when I got home (after muuuch stretching) my muscles were all warm and languid and good, and it made me feel fantastic. Hurrah for endorphins!

Also, the running kick-started my creative brain, which has been working overtime lately, anyway. I haven't written this much in years. There's some influence, something in the air that is magically conducive to violently high levels of creative output. I'm tapping bits of poetry into my phone nearly every day, I've been editing old pieces in my head and will hopefully get around to fixing them properly, and best of all...?

I'm now writing a play. Goddamn theatre influence in my life! But I had the most perfect idea for a monologue, and it kind of just exploded into characters and symbolism and people and music and I sat and made pages and pages of notes while Tran made green curry and we listened to the Shortbus soundtrack.

I just fucking love it. I'm writing a play. And it's actually going to be awesome. That is, if I ever manage to get it staged. But we'll see, there's always plenty on in Melbourne, something will work out.

More Poetry/On Life and Love

And now I'm wondering if that is too meladramatic a title. Oh, well, it's very nearly on the money.

I was just now sitting outside, after several very social and lovely beers, musing on love, and my personal take on it.

Now, I'm not just talking romantic love, although that does certainly have a bearing in this whole business. No, my first thoughts were of the people that I inherently trust, the people closest to me, who constantly re-affirm their trust and belief in me as a person, the people who I can see myself reflected in. They are the nearest, the strongest. They are more important to me than anything. And I'm sure that they know who they are. Or they very well should.

That is not to discount anyone else in my life, quite the contrary. I revel in the diversity and nuance in the people I interact with. Every person is unique, that goes without saying, but it also means that every relationship you form, on any level, is completely unique and different. And that, that is what really blows my mind. And I mean... I don't know. But I know that it delights me, I have boundless enthusiasm for people, and for what I learn about them.

And romantic love is still quite astonishing. Anyone who knows me knows that I love easily. I do. James knows this perhaps more than anyone, as he frequently bears the brunt of my impassioned ranting. But yes! I am a creature of passion. I'll throw myself into things, not caring what the negative consequences could be, not caring a jot about the possibility that my heedless enthusiasm and delight will leave me open to whatever emotional fuckery is out there. I just don't care. I don't even think that I could. I just... let it go.

And perhaps that's how it should be. Perhaps not a wild rush of sentiment. That does, in my experience, lead to trouble. Not that I care. No, I mean that we should not be afraid to just love. To put oneself forth in positivity, in some kind of goodness, in a genuine desire to interact and uplift, to...

OK. Drunk and rambling now. I don't care, my point remains. Amanda Palmer (there's that name again) had the right of it. "There's no end to the love you can give."

So there.

Now, for yet more terrible poetry. I'm feeling magnanimous. (I am, it's not just that I really wanted to use that word.)

--

I know that I throw myself higher,
I cannot help it -
Boundlessly, a perpetual oddity,
Aware and uncaring.

Each outpouring lifts me higher and
punches the limits and
sends me to
soar

Never mind that every time
I bare my
heedless, steely vulnerability
And yet...

--

And we'll just pretend that my poetry doesn't paraphrase everything I just said, rather literally. So much for nuance. Ahem. Moving right along...

Clockwork

I run wildly, impeccably -
Each outpouring, a measured axiom
Shedding seconds at every sweep,
Bound to the lurching pulse and throb of
Impossible glass clockwork

Waif

i am
not
of
your world

perhaps
that
is why

spike
me
with your
broken
gaze

!!!

OK, so remember when I got excited that Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer were off doing things together? And how I squeed about people I love crossing paths and complimenting each other, and all of that wonderful stuff?



Amanda Palmer did Apocalypse Please at her NYE gig!

!!!

Eeee! I never thought I'd see her covering Muse, and although the quality is shit on the video, look at her go with the solo piano!

Oh my god. This is the most awesome thing ever!

Small Points

Here we go:

- Tran got his MacBook today! It is only slightly more amazing than mine. He is currently wrangling his 14,000-song strong iTunes into submission. I wish him luck.

- I've been steadily working through Muse albums tonight, just to see what they sound like with headphones, running from the new computer. The answer? Absolutely fucking stunning. Crystal. I'm hearing things that I've never heard before. Especially in Black Holes and Revelations, actually. My god, is that album well-produced.

- I ended up working on a poem for a few hours today. I have some of the ideas behind it crunched into poetry form, but somehow I'm struggling to make it work in words the way it all kind of flows nicely in my head. I have notes. I will keep working on it. It makes me infinitely happy to be working on poetry.

- I was having creative little flights of fancy all day, today. Ideas for short works and poetry and even a couple of random bits of dialogue. God, it feels good to have things coming to me again. And I'm working them!

- Muse uploaded an awesome version of Fury from the Royal Albert Hall. Go watch.

- Yoga really is good for me. I should do it more often. Mmm, stretchy.

- I'm going to finish this off by posting what I have on my desktop right now, because it is a pretty image that I wish to share. Check it out:

Amanda Fucking Palmer! Punk Cabaret is Freedom!

401

Huh. I didn't realise that I was at 400 posts already. Well, that last one was, anyway. How could I possibly have posted that much, anyway?

I'm currently sitting in bed with my laptop (shiny) and I kind of feel like writing, but I'm not entirely certain if my brain is pushing out anything constructive, so... Might as well sit here and post bits and pieces. Actually, I was going to post something yesterday, and add in some clip from YouTube, and now I can't even remember what that was. Hmm. I'm sure I'll get back to that at some point.

Actually, the reason why I don't want to turn off my computer just yet and go to bed is that I'm listening to music, and I'm not overly tired, and I really just want to keep listening. This is a good excuse. And I'm also thinking that I should practice guitar more, because I can play the song I'm listening to, and it's kind of putting me to shame over how rough I am. (It's Delilah, in case anyone is wondering - Dresden Dolls, not that stupid pop song...) Excellent song. Hard to sing, though. The vocals drop just out of my range, although I have been practicing a little lately.

Oh, see, there you go. I can totally legitimately post about singing. I do live with an amazing singer, as many people will know. It really is rather spectacular to hear that all the time, and I am absolutely not being sarcastic when I say that. It's interesting, because I can't really help measuring myself against him, and I kind of suck. But that's OK, so do most people when compared to dear Tran. He's so good.

But I like singing, I do. Our enormous kitchen has tremendous acoustics, which helps when I'm belting out, oh, whatever while doing the dishes. OK, so it's probably either going to be Muse or the Dresden Dolls/Amanda, to be honest. What? Tran plays me all of the music in the world. Including Gina G, at the moment. Oh yes. A whole album.

There is something about it, though. Singing. I'm not terribly good at it, but my voice is fairly clear, I suppose. I can sing without mangling things, although I am somewhat embarrassed by my tendency to not quite hit notes. Ouch. But I enjoy it, very much. So much so that I make excuses to hang out in the kitchen, with the marvelous acoustics. And I wanted to learn how to play things on guitar so that I can interact with music on that level - playing things for myself, and singing. I don't know, it just kind of makes me happy to be able to jam out to something that I adore.

One more song, then bed.