Thursday, October 29, 2009

Matzo & Poached White Fish...

This rainy morning I put my books aside and decided the rest of the day can wait for a little while, so I prepared fresh food instead... my favorite procrastination technique. I had a craving for steamed matzo balls, which are kosher dumplings, and crispy cast iron turkey bacon on the side. What? I said turkey bacon. אױ װײ!Last night I wanted poached cod so I decided to steam the fish in white wine, pepper corns, crushed garlic, and bay leaves; with some whole carrot matchsticks to poach as well. The flavors were so delicate. I usually go for bold and super pronounced styles of cooking but I love the refinement and these, kind of like, whispers of flavor. Especially the poached cod, it offered a completely different feel. It was a ballet rather than a tango.

So what's with all this Kosher cooking you ask? Should I find a synagogue tomorrow and go to Shabbat? Although, I don't think there are any Jews in Wichita Falls. I'm secular anyway... not overtly or specifically religious...or maybe a little bit of everything, which feels peaceful to me.

Shalom
שָׁלוֹם

Friday, October 23, 2009

The cold dust from this windy city leaves heads heavy with coarse beards, faces red breathing whiskey frost, icy fingers, watering eyes from wind tears. Its bathtubs fill with sand.
My hair grows more quickly here, it wraps around my neck. I let it fall around my shoulders, old friends. The blueberry
stains under my fingernails came from picking them last night before bed. I wondered how many bites until I find the perfect one? What will blueberry dreams look like? This morning, I awoke giggling.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

I

The graybright sky smells emphatically of nothing. Cold humid prickles, the ghosts of raindrops, rise on the backs of my hands.

Today, I want to cleave myself in two, that I may be more exposed to the world. I want to tape my eyes open until they fill with tears and everything turns into a blur of colors. I want to be the off-key tuning fork for pianos in the trees.

Even when you see, you can not know if it's real.

II


Sit under the warm sky, doll. You won't be able to see the sun anyway. Your sweat smells like two-day-old flowers and your eyes are the color of raisons. Let's make dinner out of something in the neighbors trash can. Let's find the tallest hill in the city and pin a love note to the tallest tree at the top. Let's sit face to face and I'll inhale the breath out of your mouth. Let's fill a dish with old tomatoes and drop it out of the window. The cracks in the street are the shape of rain as it trickles down your slicker, but not the same, love, they're not the same.

Friday, October 2, 2009


I've been waiting to do this. Wanting to be alone and free of time and willing to write again. I wonder if the full moon has been influential. I can list the ways the moon has done its mysterious deeds today. It was an unusual day. On my bike on the way to school, I noticed a brilliant sun and the sky was creme-fraiche, it was a perfect day. The kind that make you want to have damp feet from the garden floor, and hear music in your pockets. The days that make it easier to imagine being in a different city and in another decade. To play make-believe. I still play that game. It's not as easy as when I was seventeen. It makes me sad because when I was seventeen, I didn't know it and never enjoyed it. But today, I enjoyed as much as I could. I rounded a bend in the road curving around a park while I was riding but instead of going to school, I went to the park instead.

Today I took some pictures of a tree that was lining up with the sun. It reminded me of an eclipse and the camera obscuras I saw on tv last week. While I was lying there I bullied mini hybrid bees swarming around my ears, the little bees that confuse themselves with flies. I watched a cricket squeaking, and tried to study, I felt guilty that I wasn't working in a hospital but I stayed there in the grass and with my computer and books and duck food for lunch for 3 or 4 hours. I wanted to avoid the library that was waiting for me but decided to go instead and do something productive. When I was there I found a spot for myself that was very private. Libraries are sexy, they're appealing to people who are happiest alone.