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Open Community Postings

art is life

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Awaiting has been exhilarating, difficult and very intense. The small microcosm of life created on Capitol Hill left a sketch of life as I live it. People milling in and out time held still, both moving independently,  awaiting soft white shoe sole's personal contact with white hard concrete surface, demonstrating diversity of perspective depending on eye focus AND conscious attention...Therein lies the beauty of this experience....Awaiting demonstrates the minute, subtle interconnections holding nature in some sort of balance.

Rubber soles  covering, protecting soft sole flesh together with mother earth's elements  congealed into surfaces so hard time and nature can beat on it forever and hardly leave mark, protecting....protecting?  Neither the rubber nor the concrete protected my physical body. My feet hurt, my hips hurt as I walked Capitol Hill's cement circuit for six hours....Through it all my heart, soles and soul soared and continue to soar, and will soar ever more at such adversarial gifts.....such is life....hips get tired, muscles ache, head wants relieve.....I create what I am......

I rested, stood still, walked and walked and smiled genuinely in the opportunity to interact with my surroundings in this exceedingly intimate domain. And the response is all of my make-up..... acknowledging the ever present delicate balance between interior life and exterior life takes my head into Coleridge's poetic Kubla Khan dimension. I thrive on exposing personal intellectual, emotional and physical life to outside elements with minimumal knowledge of process and expectations. I acknowledge the importance of ground rules which provide parameters of the exercise....after the ground rules are established, nature and environment dictate the path's Information, then, based on my response to outside stimlus, personal feedback brings deeply held insight of interior workings: spiritual, intellectual, psychological....oh yes, and the pesky ole physical.. I am fallible...loving life is loving myself....loving opportunity for growth is loving life....

The beauty of the experience has been in the fallability....I know that if I do want to smell the roses....I had better stay out of the briar patch


and then there were none

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As we disbursed, the dense white of our mass dissipated like mist in the air until we morphed from the white ones into obscure components of the anthropological landscape that is Utah. Our voices returned, our cell phones lit up.  What we take away cannot be seen like souvenirs from a tourist shop; it's seen to the extent that we as individuals as part of a collective choose to reveal.



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 Tengo una semana visualizando personas vestidas de blanco, no entendia de que se trataba, esto me pasa a veces que  veo acontecimientos antes que pases, y ayer por casualidad pase a la libreria y simpre recogo el magazine Catalyst y encontre el reportage sobre uds.,si slc city tiene una energia muy especial , pienso que el silencio vale mas que mil palabras y nos ayuda a encontrarnos como individuos y comunidad, muy interesante propuesta, que disfruten su estancia en slc city y gracias por traer buena vibra a la ciudad.


I'm waiting...

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The Mind

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Weeks of anticipation have all led to today, and later, this evening. I have been pondering for a very long time what will occupy my mind for the long hours that we will be performing. What I would truly like to do is to wait and see what seamlessly invades my mind as I carve this journey, but I know that to keep me focussed it will be a good idea to have some direction.

Years ago I had a very near death experience, and at the moment right before I would have (before being miraculously saved) I accepted what was to come of me. Since then I have come to terms with the fact that I am still here, but never fully reviewed what happened preceding the incident, nor afterwards. I think the direction I should take my mind tonight is in contemplation of my life thus far, all of the positive and negatives of my life and not passing judgement on them, but merely accepting and reviewing them for what they are and how that makes up who I am now. I am very pleased to have this opportunity to reflect and I am excited to see where my mind and heart take me tonight.

Last Updated on Wednesday, 21 April 2010 17:18

Last thoughts before the piece begins

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This is what happens in my mind as I walk the hill.

Today, I wonder what I want to eat before I go.  Maybe a green tea matcha frappe at home in the blender.  Maybe chips, because I didn't pack any to munch on during the piece because, well, they're noisy little things.  I broke down and got some painter's pants at a paint store this morning.  Even plain white painter's pants are advertising billboards on my @$$. I covered the billboards with white duck tape (yes, the brand, not the concept of "duct" tape).  I thought about hiding my iPod so I could listen to guided meditations by Tara Brach for 12 hours.  The earbuds ARE white, after all. Nah, not part of the piece. I'm gonna honor Ernesto's vision.  Today, power was restored to our garage (a.k.a. my building workshop) and I'm anxious to start building canvases.  Would anyone notice if I didn't show up tonight?  I'd like to think someone would at least sometime during the piece.  Nah, I'm not blowing it off.  This is way too cool of an opportunity to miss.  I'm wondering if I'll be up on an adrenalin high after the piece ends.  When I deliver art to shows, I feel what I can only conceptually compare to creative postpartum depression.  My creative baby (babies) is (are) gone, and I await the muse that sets off new creation.  The creative postpartum depression is a crash.  I sometimes drive by galleries to see my baby (babies).  When I drive by the hill after the piece and all its post-piece exposure is gone, what will I feel?  I'm not participating with the intent that I'll go all woowoozenenlightenedchillgrounded in 12 hours.  I await what the piece offers.  Afterwards, I'm going out for Em's bourbon pecan bread pudding.  Seriously.

Last Updated on Thursday, 08 April 2010 16:11


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April 8, 2010

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This much awaited day has finally arrived like a spring lion.

I will know how many individuals are performing when I turn around to face the group, coming together for the first time. Three groups trained at different times are finally becoming one. They will act as performers and first audience of the performance, as they meet and watch each other with wonder. A reunion in silence; a reunion of silence.

And then, everyone else, as they slow down, stop, and become silent with us, will expand the performance twofold, threefold. The public, in waves throughout the night, will complete the performance.



Quiet Light

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Quiet Light


A Dream or a Vision …

I dare not say,

So I await in the Silence.


In the Quiet Light …

The outer voices … become silent.


And opening appears,

Ever expanding into the Oneness,

Dancing in Motionless Thought.


In the Midst of this Intense Silence …

Comes the hidden peace, I have been waiting for.


Then into the Stillness … I am delivered,

My inner being becomes soundless.


There are others here in this Sacred Place,

Our Spirits weaved into a Mosaic made of invisible threads …

That forms the Spirit of Mankind.


The Desire for Oneness is fulfilled.,

In unison with the true self!



`Mary Sue  (Neider)


Last Updated on Wednesday, 07 April 2010 22:19


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I remember performing at the Boston Institute of Contemporary Art during summer 2007. I presented five public performances collectively titled The Water Cycle. I led groups of people to the islands of Boston Harbor in silent 5-hour pilgrimages to collect water from the Atlantic, bringing it back to the ICA for a water sculpture. Upon completing the performance cycle, one of the curators said: Now it belongs to history and the myth-making can begin.

Awaiting reminds me of that moment, in terms of expectations. Many stories, memories, agendas, dreams and desires are coming together. It is an arc, a vessel holding diverse experiences, hopefully in balance.

It is fascinating to watch the making of myth. I have little to do with it. I am simply providing a thesis, a flow, a footprint.

Last Updated on Wednesday, 07 April 2010 19:57

my current reality

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My starting point, Utah Pride, is more emotionally charged than I anticipated.  It was my welcome home when I came out as a queer woman.  I stopped in to let the staff know what I am doing tomorrow, and much to my surprise, a fountainhead of tears streamed silently down my face.  For me the hill is a physical metaphor for a sometimes dissonant journey to equal rights.  With Ernesto's piece, I will have hours to fabricate my own mental paradigm shift and offer peaceful homage to a site that has previously fed adrenalin rushes and mass hysteria on a variety of levels.  On a more mundane note, I sense a Pavlovian need to find a public restroom the minute I set eyes on the Capitol building.  I questioned leaving my water bottle in the truck as I broke out the crackberry to take a photo for this posting.  On the way to the hill, strangers greeted me and the smell of fresh sopapillas made my mouth water.  I passed the road to Em's and was certain I was hungry despite eating only a few hours earlier.  Traffic patterns are dicey on the southwest corner of the hill at the stoplight, and "walk" lights are not long enough to slowly, thoughtfully walk across the street without fear of becoming road pizza tartar.


Last Updated on Wednesday, 07 April 2010 18:48

tired of my mind

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Don't you just hate it when you wrote something you thought profound and then you either forgot to save it or the editor of the page decides not to post it.  Whatever, why do I care...well...I just don't know rather than to tell myself that I am stupid for not saving it, or pierce my ego cause it didn't get posted. Or why even go there and beat myself up.  My mind will not stop.  I work graveyard so I would think this walk would be easy for me...but it won't be easy.  Becauase I am a wild monkey on caffeine along with sugar, whatever else to keep me hyper.  I am smart enou gh that in preparation I'll cut back on that stuff but still...

I got the book by Rebecca Solnit "History of Walking...Wanderlust" looks like it's pretty good.  Perhaps she will have some suggestions about my mind when walking.

Last Updated on Wednesday, 21 April 2010 17:17

Capitol coming into focus

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In reference to Christine's  photo shots of the Capitol...in my mind it is shifting into focus more and more.  But I am praying for warmer weather.  There are burbs in my walk now as I am trying to stay aware of my thoughts and how I am walking.  I can't believe how much I stomp around with my feet.  That class that some of you did had sounded so trans...sitional(?).  One guy told me that first thing in class you all did was walking backward in a circle.   I chuckled to that....that's great.  I always thought that there was something revolutionary about body movement and learning.  Much of my learning is lost because I did not listen to my body...why do I say that...well...for obvious reason. I am hard of hearing. I do not always take a stand and get my needs met so that I can get the information that I need.  I know many people with various disabilities who do not take a stand 'cause they are tired of making the effort.  So I wonder what if the education system made a shift where it was more body focus. I am not sure how....but then, people will not develop an ignorance toward their own bodies as they get older.  Perhaps there will be less violence toward people or animals.  Or less fear about other's and their own sexuality. Or perhaps no more war.  Or less need to spend money we don't have...or so on.



Last Updated on Wednesday, 21 April 2010 17:17


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just a thought..........

in order for me to be fully present, awaiting on Capitol Hill

must I be fully absent from my warm cozy bedded down comforter?

i mean, is it requisite that I be fully out of site/out of mind in order to be fully invested in the moment?

if my friend in Hilo thinks about me and sends me good vibes and suddenly I see the face of that person, have I left the performance on Capitol Hill? what if the good vibes from Hilo were self generated........then what?

throwing oneself into opportunities such as the awaiting performance makes for awakening opportunities

Last Updated on Wednesday, 07 April 2010 16:58


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silent chamber











Journal Entry for 4/7

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Late winter on Tuesday. Early spring on Wednesday. Final instructions to performers: I hope everyone sleeps enough tonight.

I feel like the custodian of silence. I once lived in a cloister, under a monastic rule of silence. So, this silence is not for me. Silence is embedded at my core, like water at the bottom of a deep well. This silence is for the performers and the public.

Therefore, I will break my silence as many times as necessary to protect everyone's silence. It's the only way, like an old monk by a monastery gate.

Last Updated on Wednesday, 07 April 2010 11:25

Gloves........gotta have gloves

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Oh yes,,,,,,,the gloves are pure white

Last Updated on Tuesday, 06 April 2010 16:36

Warming Up

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Aloha Awaiting.......

After two days of intense searching for appropriate costuming for our upcoming life enhancing event........I found very comfortable and warm, although not waterproof, knit gloves in Provo..........They are a wooping ninety-nine cents per pair. If you can't find gloves and want a pair, let me know by calling me at (801) 607-5360, and you can pay me for them on Thursday.

I am getting more and more excited..........bring it!!!


Last Updated on Tuesday, 06 April 2010 14:35

Journal Entry for 4/5

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Last meeting of the Awaiting production team at the University. Our final logistics. Very intense and emotional. Many wonderful words, and at a loss for words. One year ago today I received a call from Chair Brian Snapp about this residency. The beginning of a long conversation about project possibilities. One year to the day...

Last Updated on Tuesday, 06 April 2010 09:18

What does my component of "Awaiting" look like?

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Awaiting.   Meditative contemplative walking.  A vision quest within time and space confinement.  Alone with my thoughts in my head, not on my art as I’ve been doing for several years in my paintings and mixed media sculptures, not on my laptop as I’ve been editing and supplementing my novel.  Intrinsic social commentary as I play artist, viewer and art medium.  To what extent do I want to make a statement with where I choose to start and end the piece?  How long will I last?  Is this a conquest after having been physically incapacitated for several years and tossing my walking cane in the closet recently?  Is this about my ego first and the piece second?  My reality on Thursday includes counting.  A lot of counting.  It comes viscerally with OCD.  Repeated counting of steps, of architectural elements, of how many people I pass every 30 minutes, of what percent grayscale the sky becomes as night engulfs my slow repetitive pace.  And self talk.  Much self talk, trying to bring me back to reflective solitude.  As I await the formal onset of the piece, I seek but one moment of peace and quiet in what may appear to others as constant peace and quiet during Ernesto Pujol’s “Awaiting”.


Last Updated on Monday, 05 April 2010 00:57

I must be the pedestrian in this performance piece

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As the performance date approaches, I find myself noticing all the everyday types of waiting we experience. I’ve been asking myself, “Is there value in these prosaic, banal types of waiting?” Desire, anticipation and hope all influence how and what we wait for.  I really don’t have any profound ideas about waiting and silence to share with everyone. I’ve never experienced twelve hours of silence. Ever! And frankly, it’s a bit frightening walking into the unknown.

I keep thinking about Virginia Woolf and how she filled her pockets with rocks and walked into the river’s current, fully committed to entering into an unknown realm.  She was willing to shed the body that time had given her. In class each week, Ernesto has us learning through motion -- walking backwards in a circle, retracing time.  I am becoming a different type of pedestrian.  I am a walker without a destination, who doesn't need to see where I am going.  This counter motion to my everyday routine is creating a space separated from ‘normal’ time.  It is a space where I can hold myself empty without the anxiety and demands of goals, schedules and agendas. How does the flow of time change over twelve hours of silence? How will the slower pace of silence effect and shape me? What is this no-self?

I feel an affinity with Virginia's commitment to venture into the unknown and to immerse myself fully in this deep well of silence.  I’m going to tuck all these thoughts and questions into my pockets (figuratively speaking) and carry them with me into the performance.  Occasionally, I will take one out, attend to it, and then release it, unburdening myself slowly until all that remains is silence. Will I recognize my 'new' self that emerges after the Awaiting performance? Only time will tell.


Last Updated on Wednesday, 21 April 2010 17:17


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I went to Capitol Hill at 5:30am to see how the light shifts in the morning. Black to blue. A gorgeously overcast morning, with a dust of snow on the grass and wet granite steps. I can only imagine what the performers are going through to prepare, body and mind. You will have an incredible night...without a doubt.

 7:15 am7:16 am

Last Updated on Sunday, 04 April 2010 15:42

Ahhhhh, the cozy moments

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Awaiting for awaiting.................It is a busy space at times................Other moments feel cozy, open and full of breath...............Surprisingly, awaiting for awaiting does not allow room for expectations..............I'm ready

Last Updated on Wednesday, 21 April 2010 17:17

Collaborations, Co-Authorships & Being Together

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Issuing an open call for a public performance is challenging. Many think I should be more selective, creating an application process, interviewing and auditioning applicants, reviewing their credentials; quizzing and testing. But I practice public art as a generous gesture based on trust. I trust all people implicitly.

Nevertheless, many artists do not understand the notion of collaboration. They come from a Modernist tradition of single authorship, of co-signature. Therefore, they enter the process with a long held intention, not realizing that it amounts to an individual performance within the collective performance, to an intervention. They do not realize that collaboration is a self-less process. No one dominates. I do not bring my own self into this. I bring the collective self that I am portraying, at great sacrifice.

In addition, this is a faith-based journey: we exercise faith in the inner wisdom of the body of the evolving performance to edit what is inappropriate and claim what is right. Sometimes it happens organically: individuals approach the experience and discover that it is not a good fit. Sometimes it happens assertively: individuals have to be respectfully disinvited from performing, or their gestures need to be curated.

I have experienced great joy in Salt Lake City. But I have also come across anger and pain. Many secret narratives have come knocking at my door during recent months. Indeed, this performance has become an arc for them. However, this public vessel of mixed memories will work only if no one dominates, if all are able to coexist in peace.

This Easter weekend has been particularly intense for many. Sensitive to that, I have worked very hard at eliminating dualism, at creating a balanced place, a space where Mormon and ex-Mormon, where ALL can come together with their past and present lives to envision the future. Therefore, as we approach the performance, I offer a final act of trust, hoping that all can respect this healing balance throughout.

Last Updated on Sunday, 04 April 2010 15:32


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After many years of experiencing life from many diverse directions,  east to west, north to south, I have determined that humans are, first and foremost, self-serving. I find as I attempt to convince myself and others that I am able to put their interests and needs before my own, the further I withdraw into the self-righteous thought that I can "know" how best to show-up and serve another individual to their highest good. Only the individual knows what is best for themselves.

Lest I be misunderstood...we all absolutely serve as catalyst for one another in determining what our personal needs, wants, and desires are at any given moment. I feel Ernesto has been an excellent example of efficient guidance and coaching as he has revealed his vision for this important work of art. All-the-while, he has allowed maximum freedom for each participant to express their interpretation of A-Waiting by not dictating and assuming that he knows best how each one's personal contribution to the “life” of Awaiting should be presented.

Unfortunately, when I am in a space of serving others from the point-of-view that I have put their needs before my own, I find that I place both myself and the other person in a place of victimhood and neediness versus empowerment and personal discovery.

As I approach serving others with the idea that I know best what they need, I demean their personal inner connection and strength, usually enabling them to remain in a place of co-dependence, all-the-while allowing my own co-dependent behaviors continued blindness to my own pertinent needs as well as those of other people.  This response is most apparent when the other person does not respond to my "selfless" service as I "think" they should. I find that inevitability, when I "try" to place another's needs before my own, I generally have ulterior motives in mind, trusting, no expecting, that the person will show-up for me in the same way, to the same degree, I perceive I have shown-up for them.

Hence, my intention for participating in the Awaiting performance and magnification of timing in day-to-day progression of nature, especially in ongoing expression of human interaction within nature, I come forth to serve myself. By reaching deep into secret, inaccessible personal interior world with honesty and desire to serve my own highest good, elements of myself yet unknown, Awaiting spontaneous exposure as combined with outside stimulus,  will amalgamate and break loose from long held inherited tethers, becoming visible as the 12 hour walk progresses.

As I show-up with this level of honest intent,  I will express love and light that has been brewing within my heart and soul for many incarnations. In fact I propose, that by acknowledging my own primary needs of acceptance, validation, and freedom of expression, I will simultaneously and inevitably serve others to their highest good. By accepting the importance of Me as I express life through this performance, I welcome others to acknowledge themselves in this way as well. Ultimately, by allowing others to inhabit their own "first chair" in this performance, others may find the same glorious degree of personal freedom I intend to find for myself.



Last Updated on Sunday, 04 April 2010 11:47

Journal Entry for 4/3

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Portraits elicit conversations about accuracy; about likeness. As a site-specific public performance artist, as an American "portrait painter," I did not come to Utah to paint my self-portrait. As a contemporary cultural choreographer, a social sculptor, I did not come to Salt Lake City to create an ephemeral monument to my spiritual practice. I was invited to come and make work about what I saw, thought, perceived, read, heard, researched, intuited, and felt about these people in this place at this moment in time. That is what Awaiting engages. It is not about me but about you. And if it elicits a thousand opinions, as all portraits do, that is the point. Who are we? Where do we come from? Where are we going? There is no prescription, no sermon, no preaching. There is only a durational gesture.

Last Updated on Saturday, 03 April 2010 22:57

New Words

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There are so many definitions for waiting. So many different types of waiting we have all found, shared and are now contemplating...


  • Waiting as a by-product of goals, expectations and deadlines
  • Inevitable waiting, like waiting to die, grow old, or waiting for some one to make that mistake you knew they's make
  • Waiting to fill the space inbetween two activities
  • Non-waiting - using downtime (otherwise known as 'waiting for the next thing') as a time to relax or be with yourself
  • waiting to follow orders, or be on some one's beck and call
...and many more...
Maybe in a more nuanced language we would have different terms for the different types of waiting... hm...on second thought, we sort of do!
  • anticipation
  • awaiting
  • expecting
  • looking forward to
  • patience/impatient
  • hold back
  • hesitation
  • boredom (does that count?)
Previously, I thought waiting had been discounted, overlooked, however it seems we have many words to describe the degrees of waiting. I'll be on the look out for more signs of how 'waiting' is integrated into my life, our society.


Last Updated on Friday, 02 April 2010 13:47

Journal Entry for 4/2

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The performance is only 8 days away. Is everyone harvesting the mind? Are people preparing to inform their steps with the fullness of memories or the emptiness of full presence, of this-ness? Steps are like brushwork on a surface, they invisibly mark the floor, this way or that, depending on what informs them. Consider what to do with the mind and the no-mind for 12 hours of silence. Consider the mind for 12 hours of pauses.


Commenting and Reminiscing

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I am beginning to be rejuvenated in my pride of SLC, Utah, which I thought was lost.  In fact I don't think I ever learned to appreciate Utah even though I've lived here most of my life.   I always felt an outsider, I guess it takes another outsider to see this city in a different light.  I would be curious as to how the response will be coming from local people.

Some reminiscing:

SILENCE: It wasn't until she made her first utterance (just sounds barely audible) out of years of silence that he had to let her go.  I guess that he couldn't stand what she had to say.  This is what I remembered from the movie, "The Piano" by Jane Campion.

URBAN SPACES:  As a child I remember exploring in old churches with all kind of niches, unknown space, rooms, smell of old wood, musk, moss, dirt, green, the silence.  I remember being at an abandon air force base, my brother and I walked through old dormitories where all the window where boarded up, everything was emptied out but there were still ketchup spills on the floor or papers that got left out of a filing cabinet.  It seemed like they were in a hurry to get out of those dorms.  I remember me and my friends always looking for a way out of boredom went exploring in the back wood with readied stories in our heads to keep the suspense going, but unsure of all that when we came upon a built cross made out of rocks with fire pits inside possibly representing Christ's nail holes in hands and feet (can't remember exactly what you call that).  Mix with fear and excitment we even convinced my brother to come with us us girls to check it out which wasn't easy being as oldest he was.  Today as an adult,  once in awhile I would have that deja vu of those foggy feelings that you can't quite grasp a certain smell, certain memory, or color.

AWAITING:  My mother curled up in bed dying of cancer, everyday I was at the edge between denial that was of her and myself of many tones and then the waiting that became stronger until that moment came when I decided to tell her that it was okay to let go, to move on, I will be fine, and I will always love you.  And then when I said that, I left because I was so tired and I had no desire to wait, plus everyone told me to go home and get some rest.  Two hours later I was woken up by a call that she had just passed away.   Nurses at the nursing home assured me that parents tend to wait until their love ones are out of the room before they pass away.  Well, Mom, good timing.

Last Updated on Wednesday, 21 April 2010 17:16

Journal Entry for 3/31

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Waiting is a busy space. So it's alright for dreams to die. Dreams get old on our shelves. Wisdom is the recognition of dated dreams, like withered branches on a tree that must be pruned for new bloom. Let dreams go. It's the dreamer who must live, not the dream. Dream new dreams. The dreamer must survive.


Last Updated on Wednesday, 31 March 2010 02:31


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perform silence--

conscious movement--





mouth roof tongue rest--


smile to moon--



as if waiting--



fluid thought--

no hand hold--

bring peace and joy--

see and hear silence--

observe time cavity--

look and listen--

a time x-ray...

magnify ever eternal skeleton--


Last Updated on Wednesday, 21 April 2010 17:16

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