“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.

“Wild Birds Unlimited” by Julia on her couch

Tuesday April 3, 2018
9:42pm
5 minutes
From a storefront on West Broadway

On the T-shirts that Zia Nancy brought back
from Atlantic City were birds wearing sunglasses
Nothing is cooler than a bird wearing sunglasses
We were grateful for the oversized and bright
we did not know then how to ask for something better
How to wish we could be lucky enough for more
We were lucky enough then with two kisses and
a chili pepper
thrust into our hands like the lesson was in the
small bravery of turning our tongues on fire
The picture says a thousand things
Not including all of the comments made by
all the cool birds wearing sunglasses
on our T-shirts brought back from Atlantic City
We were built by each other’s dedication to being there
A wall of neon cousins smiling while
Michael cries into his birthday cake

“Your grandfather” by Julia on Bec’s couch


Monday January 2, 2017
12:34am
5 minutes
overheard at Cowichan Bay

Your grandfather has your chin
And you have his
Your mother says he has your eyes
Or you have his
And I can see it if I look a long while
Staring silently
With intention
to see it
So I can taste how far back you go
How far back you come from
Before you disappear again
Your grandfather has your mouth
And you have his
The same smile for the baby in the picture then
also perfectly yours
Even if only in photographs
Finding your future there in his past

“her “home” shifted time and again” by Julia at R&D


Tuesday, August 18, 2015
4:20pm
5 minutes
An article in The Atlantic

Eagle and Snail lay on the cool linoleum, looking up at the stolen chandelier that’s glittering on the ceiling. Snail’s head is on Eagle’s stomach and he can feel her breathing and he can hear her heartbeat.
Eagle keeps falling asleep and when she does Snail listens to the gurgling of her lower intestines and mimics the sounds to her with his best out loud impression. Eagle wakes up when he does this and she laughs sleepily but with commitment. Eagle’s hand is on Snail’s face, holding his left eyebrow in the crescent moon of her palm. When she remembers, she strokes it with the grain and smooths it with the inside ridge of her finger.

“the finest Led Zeppelin songs.” by Julia at her desk


Friday, March 29, 2013
9:47pm
5 minutes
Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs
Chuck Klosterman


She does, she likes you. She holds your photo up to the light streaming in through her bedroom window and she makes you a promise: to always be yours. She kisses the frame and spins around with it. She’s 11, you’re 14. You don’t notice her yet this way..she has two mosquito bites for breasts, two bruised knees, and her lips are always chapped. She’s just a kid, you’re not yet interested. You know you will be later, when she matures a bit, when the age gap doesn’t feel so big. She loves you. She thinks she does. She doesn’t think the age difference is a ‘thing’. She thinks about giving you the bracelet she’s making out of embroidery floss. It might have a fish tail on it. It might have a heart. It doesn’t matter, you’re the inspiration behind the whole thing anyway. She’s told her mother about you. Didn’t say your name but she described your sandy blonde hair, your big green eyes, your perfect nose. Smaller than hers so she thinks you have it all. When you’re ready for her love, you should play her all the finest Led Zeppelin songs…