“while whittling cedar” by Julia on R’s couch

Friday, November 30, 2018
2:00pm
5 minutes
Finnish Schooling
Kayla Czaga

I know a woman who is in the woods right now teaching other women how to wield an axe, chop lumber, and defend themselves against bears and maniacal cretins from the underworld. She is a close talker- a rub your shoulder with her shoulder and make your space smaller type. She is a wine woman. She has cracked purple stained lips and her teeth to match. She doesn’t know her breath smells like the combination of stale and obvious. She is the one in the woods. She also knows about authentic movement and healing through the art of not dancing and not nothing. She was nice and I could talk to her. She explained it once after she had some wine. I think she was wearing a fanny pack made out of a rabbit’s foot or the rabbit’s foot was hanging from it? She was the kind to be wearing either. For the story’s sake I’m succumbing to hyperbole but believe me I was there. I saw her stand beside the chandelier. She was bigger than a tree.

“bore you with another list ” by Julia on her Couch


Sunday August 14, 2016
9:25pm
5 minutes
theestablishment.com

1.I can’t apologize enough; I am always sorry for something
2.I buy the cheapest toilet paper because it’s the only kind that doesn’t stick to your bits
3.If I pass by a basil plant, I will steal a leaf off of it
4.If I pass by a rosemary bush, I will pluck as many sprigs as I can carry
5.Sometimes I cry for no reason
6.Sometimes I take long showers when I’m trying to forgive you
7.I drink from the carton and jar and double dip knives and cross contaminate condiments
8.I make lists of ways to be nicer to you
9.I sleep really well all things considering
10.I don’t feel good about all the things I don’t know

“a broken-down piano” by Julia at her desk


Wednesday November 20, 2013
12:31am
5 minutes
from the Jared Leto Wikipedia page

If you look closely at him, you’ll see he’s one of those artist types. He plays with his fingers as if they were keys on a piano, trying to make music. Trying to express himself. He doesn’t draw, but he understands lines and colours better than anyone I know. It’s hard to describe someone with the capacity for “lines and colours”, I recognize that, but he really is. He’s never mentioned the word Art. I don’t know if he knows what it means. But he’s authentically him, and that’s more artistic than I’ve ever seen, and believe me, I’ve seen a lot of artistic people. He started when he was young. Very quiet. Very observant. He didn’t say much, he just took everything in, and breathed into it like a balloon, giving it shape and understanding. We wanted to put him in music lessons, but he didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to do anything that wasn’t his idea even if we could see that he could benefit from it. He’d rather use his dreams to teach him anyway. He was so different like that. I worried when he was little that if he didn’t let us foster his gifts, then he’d grow up one day to be a broken-down piano…a beautiful shell with lots of potential, but without the ability to touch lives with its sound.