“therefore determined to find fault with her” by Julia at her desk

Friday May 31, 2019
2:10pm
5 minutes
St. Urbain’s Horseman
Mordecai Rcihler

You could say she was impatient.
you wouldn’t be saying anything new, but you could say it.
She has likely, herself, already pointed this fact out.
Not to get ahead of the discovery of flaws,
but to practice self-awareness.
You might have opinions about her impatience, or her basket,
but she has not asked to hear them.
Questions, however, she will field:

What is in the basket?
When did you first notice your impatience?
Did someone make you wait when it was really quite urgent?
What is your favourite season?

She will start with the easiest ones and work her way back:

Favourite season is spring. You did not ask why. Now you may
muse on that and wait to ask a separate question in another round.
I first noticed my impatience when the sky was falling and
nobody seemed to have any urgency about it until it was too late.
Someone the day the sky was falling did not make me wait but
was too dead to join in the urgency. And I loved him.
The basket holds a ticking heart, tick, tick ticking…

“it is like a stage fight” by Julia on Amanda’s couch

Sunday May 5, 2019
9:09pm
5 minutes
The Book
Alan Watts

I do not like this. Stage fighting shouldn’t scare me to the point of distraction, nor remove me for being too fake. Who is in charge of the execution? Is it lack of fear, is it abundance of trust?
That’s what I don’t like about it. The absence of trust in front of all of us like it wasn’t wholly necessary. Good lighting sneaks up on you as the container for the room and if it’s good you won’t notice and if you don’t notice, then you’re in the moment, on the ride, following the thread, chasing the sequence because it becomes your only desire. Good stage fighting is the same. It is part of the story, it aids, it allows. If you do not trust and you show me this I will lose my light. I will watch as the part of me that wanted to join you, withers, pulling me out. It’s not my job to keep the thing together, only to follow it, to go with you, to be where you are. And where are you? What is the thing holding you away from this bravery? Why are you on stage in front of me if you left it at home this time? I want so many things but I want this now because I know the feeling. I know it so deep. I want to be where you are.

“such a confusing tableau.” by Julia at Ocean Village

Tuesday February 5, 2019
11:08am
5 minutes
How To Change Your Mind
Michael Pollan
The trees are wind-blown sideways, their top leaves all leaning to the left.
In this scene they look like they are suspended in movement, choreographed effortlessly by the universe and all its majestic artistry. The tableau is alive and I am alive for looking at it. I want to know who I am to thank for these gradient skies and the sunrise and the reflection of my heart so clear on the morning beach.
I am not confused by nature’s vision.  I soak it all up and dance along the shoreline with a galumph I haven’t known since childhood’s end.
These trees are reaching over their own bodies in a pose, held with grace, we stand moved.
The hurry in my boots has left for the time being. Stillness has sunk itself deep into my toes where the cold sat earlier, nipping at my thin skin. Here, I can stand here, watching the trees live on in the picture of their own making.
We watch like a monkey might leap out from this tight-lipped secret. Or a rainbow.

“thinking maybe you threw it all away” by Julia in her bed

Thursday September 27, 2018
1:04am
5 minutes
When A Guy Helps You Out
Cary Tenn

it takes ten years for either of us to notice.
ten years of never realizing
fully seeing.
when I see what takes ten years to see, I am changed.
ten years to notice that these eyes belong on two different faces. how do you go back from that? you noticed it too, ten years later, only you thought it was something about the pupils. Something scary.
or did you think it before and now you have the guts to say it? Now you’re what’s making me clock it?
I know you might see what I see: two forceless halves tricking you into believing me seamless like
this whole body is a map to one destination
catch me in my good eye and see my young heart
catch me in the other and see a lion or a truth

Did you always love a hybrid?
Did I?

“seemed to love us anyway” by Julia on her couch

Friday, March 16, 2018
11:53pm
5 minutes
Beauty: 1976
Ruth L. Shwartz

We stole little things from her vanity-a ring, a sample bottle of eau de toilette, a hair pin. It didn’t look like she would notice them gone. There were so many more important things to notice. After she told us about the robbery and how they found Granite’s debit card being used in six different diners in two days, we felt bad. Here she was telling us about how people keep stealing from them, and we were there, stealing from them. It was so easy to convince ourselves she wouldn’t notice on account of how many stories we’ve been forced to listen to for the 60th time. People who tell the exact same story to the exact same people year after year are not the look around and see what’s new about the room kind of people. People who are so damn sad do not have time to count their broaches, or their Jean jackets.