I’ve got Radio@Netscape set to the New Wave station. The new wave goodness is washing over me this morning. Remembering when everything was as easy as dancing to new wave, scarily-teased bangs bouncing blithely in the smoky clubs, or making endless mixtapes of Tears for Fears, The Cure, Joy Division, Violent Femmes, Yazoo, XTC, Alphaville, The Smiths – carefully lettering, coming up with a quote for each side of the cassette. Such a demanding enterprise that was, and now who has tape players anymore?
On Friday night, I ate peanut butter pizza with David, Brina, Jesse, JP and L. The moon was full and winked at us from where we stood beside the newspapers that proclaimed NEW GOV HOPES DAVIS WILL MAKE TRANSITION EASY. There is no such thing as an easy transition, Arnold. Better you learn that now, with most of your life behind you, than go one more day thinking it’s all like your film career.
Saturday found me back at the library, covering for one of my employees who needed a mental health day. After work, I headed to Berkeley to meet Ergazork for a concert at Epic Arts, but it was not to be, since the musician had fallen ill. We decided to head up to Telegraph and wander aimlessly and talk, which proved to be worlds more entertaining than any concert could have been. I love those damned dirty streets of Berkeley, slashed with neon, scented with urine and pot and espresso, decorated with cheap necklaces and litter. We walked and had an hours-long conversation about language, belief vs. faith vs. hope, and many other things. Conversations with Ergazork are among my favorite things in the world. We have enough in common to be interested in communicating with each other, and enough disagreement to be challenging. I mulled over what we talked about the whole way home, and am still mulling.
Sunday was when I kicked the writing into overdrive … or tried to, anyway. I woke up and immediately received a video iChat request from FunkyPlaid – which worked! He and his friend said hello and departed soon after for their evening’s festivities. Then I bashed my head against a poem or two for a few hours. Soon I decided to visit the ocean and get some grounding and inspiration from her. Ityllux was working on his thesis, but we were poking at each other via iChat every once in a while, and when he proclaimed he needed a break, I thought the ocean might be a fine idea for him too. We went to Tennessee Valley Beach and he pushed me into the ocean.
Okay, not really, but it sounds so much more dramatic that way. Actually, what happened was Ityllux decided that the southern cove looked interesting, so we headed that way. And then BIG MAMA WAVES came up and nearly knocked me over. I scuttled into a little indentation between two large rocks, thinking to protect myself; later I realized, “hey, that’s a great way to DROWN YOURSELF if the indentation fills with water and there’s NO AIR.” Duh. By the time we managed to run screaming back to the safety of the greater beach, one side of my hair was plastered to my face, my ass was soaked, my boots and socks were full of pebbles, and there was sand in my bra. I loved it!
Afterwards, I was completely energized and centered. Ityllux and I sat on the rocks, took our shoes and socks off, and chatted a bit. Conversation flowed easily; it seems like I’ve known him a lot longer than I have. We’re both good listeners and talkers … and kidders. On the way back, he noticed both my advanced age and my (lack of) height. What is it with me and tall blond guys who are younger than me? I seem destined to be the little big sister to them. Ah well, that’s not really a complaint. Ityllux is a dear, and I look forward to kicking his ass at Scrabble.
When I returned home, I set my soaked, sandy clothes out on the deck to dry, then got into warm, clean ones and drove into the city to my friend Evan’s. We walked down to Sweet Heat and had some nummy burritos and tacos and talked about creative inspiration and project management. Afterwards, we sat in his studio and worked on our separate projects. It felt so good to be creating something in the presence of another artist. I was more focused than I have been in a while, although we took many little breaks to talk about certain things (alchemical symbology, for one, and also the cool translation feature in Sherlock). I had caramel tea and shortbread and a wonderful black and white cat curled up right behind my shoulders and head-butted me.
I was sad to leave, around 23:30, but I knew I had to get up early this morning for work. I slept better last night than I have in months. Two more days before the reading and I’m trying not to be nervous during my precious waking hours. So far, still extremely nervous. jitter
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