the love artist dot org

everywhere i look i find you

"oh mother, the divine beauty of your forms is beyond all words. 

you alone take care that this child of yours safely crosses the sea of life

oh durga, kali-ma, you are the embodiment of divine speech & hidden supreme knowledge.  you reside in the temple of lord siva’s heart.  the prayers of the vedas are directed to your divinity. you are the embodiment of the intitial see of "om" & are rooted therein.  you are the energy of kundalini, giving birth to creation. 

the knowledge of you in this divine form enables yogis to no more to return to the mother’s womb"

i feel lost & blue tonight.  i’m just being honest. i just can’t catch up since i have been home.  i feel pretty much of a wreck.  now i pray in the evenings in the dark in front of a candle. i’m doing a meditation now called

call of duty

that is 31 minutes long & entails, among other things, 10 minutes of breath of fire in various positions preceded by holding your heart & calling unlimited, infinite power:

"there is unlimited, infinite power in you. these exercises work together like a key to unlock it out of your heart.  this kriya gives you emergency strength.

normally we have tons of feelings & emotions in our dealings

from feelings & emotions to thoughts, to desires, we consume 40% of our energy.  another 30% is consumed because we do not eat the right foods.  20% is consumed in finding our distractions

so we are only left with 10% and that is if we stay awake.  we get so very tired . . .we go to sleep & then we forget things. when we eat simple foods, stimulate ourselves through the power of the breath of life & understand that our body is a temple then

we do not have any hallucinations. all virtues come to us. start being grateful. count blessings not curses. answering the call to duty is more than life . . "

i am doing my best. my diet is all over the place. i have been sick. my money is all over the place -- lots coming in but chaotic & unreliable, unmanageable & seemingly unwilling to stay in a budget. i feel fragile.

but i continue to pray

for me & for all of you

it helps

i want to tell you something: when i was growing my little garden & eating completely raw, i know i was closer to the angels. i know it. i asked for something & it was given everytime. i risk sounding like a total freak but i really believe that part of my feeling lost is that eating cooked food, eating sugar, drinking caffeine opens the door to fear, whatever reality the rest of your emotional state may be based on . . .

don’t get me wrong, i want to be here, i’m just telling you what i see

when i say my divine mother prayers up here in the north, inside in the city (where i love to be & where i am so greatly loved) my heart breaks a little & i cry for the ocean

the commute

one of the reasons i came back early from wigmore was to teach a slew of 5th graders poetry at a public school in brooklyn

at least that’s what the administration thought they were signing up for -- a poet, who would get the kids to write poems about spring, flowers, color . . not that there is anything wrong with writing with about these things, it’s just not what i have been teaching

they didn't realize they were hiring the love artist, oh well, lucky them

lucky kids

if i do say so myself

it is easy to see the transformation on a minute by minute basis

the focus & concentration of love

just by paying attention: me to them, them to me, to each other, to themselves

it’s been powerful to see my current raw & kundalini & devotional transformation translated into this work i am doing with kids, something i have done for years, with love i can assure you, but something i have seen as separate from my "love" work (which i somewhat comically, now, thought of as my "art work"). .

but really the true love project really started with the work i did with kids, if i am honest &, of course, started with me being a mom . .

i have always incorporated some breathing & moving around into my work with kids & always, always, especially with the more troubled teenagers i have worked with, focused on appreciating the tiny details of their life that may go unnoticed, forcing them to be present & grateful, but i also felt the pressure of their resistance (& the resistance of the teachers) to this slow process of becoming conscious

it takes time to feel & know & as eckhart tolle says: become friendly with the present moment . . it really takes time, there is a lot of dead air time in the room & teachers get really fidgety . . kids too . . but i noticed a new bravery in my teaching this week

i did not soften the exercises, did not change them halfway thru, like i used to, let them sit in their own silence, look for the bubble of ideas inside their bodies, resist the critical mind, to wait for themselves to come forward, vulnerable, quiet. .

it was scary, a little, like hanging over a cliff

but they scream when i enter the room, out of joy, really

their forgotten & chosen & forgotten again & loved selves  "ms kathe . . poetry!!!!!"

hope to bring some poems here soon

(i found this photo above on the internet, can’t take pictures in the school without releases, might not be able to use the poems either, but i am looking into it . .)

the commute pt 2

working things out slowly but surely

it is a big commute from the beach in aguada to the east village where i currently lay, in a big california king bed stuffed in a tiny cave of a bedroom, surrounded by tons of white pillows & covered with a puffy white comforter

i feel taken care of, which my absolute favorite feeling right up there next to joy

this has gotten me into trouble

this TCO

cause i really do the best job myself, but i so much prefer to be doted on

those that have doted on in the past, who shall remain un-named (that is until the book comes out) have not really read the manual

but enough of that kind of snipe-y behavior ms. sick love artist

(if anyone has any idea what is wrong with me, pls let me know, beyond missing my wheatgrass & ether & my sunflower green garden)

so the new report on my sweet children i am coaching into consciousness:

this week we moved away from the actual imagining & poetry writing & past the page into reading our poems aloud

& there are so many very quiet voices, voices that sound like they have never been heard before, tiny, trembling bodies that press into me as i hold the notebook & prompt them of the words

the thing that makes these days worthwhile is the smile afterwards, after i say to them

"put some love in it"

"love yourself enough to think that your poem is the most interesting thing you have ever read in your whole life & then your audience will believe that too"

& their favorite "put some ooopmh into it . . !!"

(none of them knew what ooopmh meant, but i taught them)

one of the teacher told me that, yes, it was true, some of those voices she had never heard before

tiny smiles, you are breaking my heart


****************

TCO Definition:

TCO Total Cost of Ownership
TCO Tactical Combat Operations
TCO Tactical Control Officer

TCO Taken Care Of

TCO Tallis Chamber Orchestra (Suffolk, UK)
TCO Tasmanian Community Online
TCO Tax Credit Office (UK)
TCO Technical Contracting Office
TCO Technical Cooperation Programme (meteorology)
TCO Technology Commercialization Office
TCO Technology Coordinating Paper
TCO Telecommunications Certification Officer
TCO Telecommunications Certifying Office
TCO Telecommunications Control Office
TCO Telecommunications Coordination Officer
TCO Telephone Control Office/r
TCO Temperature Compensated Oscillator
TCO Temperature Controlled Oscillator
TCO Tempest Control Officer
TCO Temporary Certificate of Occupancy
TCO Termination Contracting Officer
TCO Terrestrial Carbon Observations
TCO Test Content Outline
TCO Test Control Office/r
TCO The Charmed Ones (TV show)

TCO The Chosen One

TCO The Corporate Office
TCO Thermal Cut-Off (thermal fuse)
TCO Thorsman Company Oslo
TCO Three Colleges Observatory (UNC Greensboro)
TCO Thrust Cutoff
TCO Tiffany & Co (jewelry company)
TCO Tjänstemännens Central Organisation
TCO Tjänstemännens Centralorganisation (Swedish Confederation of Professional Employees)
TCO Tom Cunningham Orchestra
TCO Total Call Ownership
TCO Total Column Ozone
TCO Total Cost of Operations
TCO Total Cost of Outsourcing
TCO Totally Cool Operation
TCO Toxic Chemical Operations
TCO Traction Control Override
TCO Trade Change Order
TCO Transparent Conductive Oxide
TCO Transport Control Officer
TCO Treaty Compliance Office
TCO Trellis-Converging Offset
TCO True Cost of Ownership

TCO True Cost to Own

TCO Trust Company (band)

how to write from your heart

there is a sinking down inside the body that enables us to open the door to creativity. there is information inside of us that is trying to speak. essentially there are always two things happening simultaneously: one, we are experiencing & two, we are remembering

this is how we make sense of what we are experiencing: we remember something & this something creates order of what we are experiencing

the problem with memory is that sometimes it "corrects" experience so that we feel safe. it creates order where perhaps there is none. sometimes it creates a lack of safety when there is actually nothing to fear

the problems with memory in regards to creativity are legion & yet it is still so essential. it is what makes us who we are. the way to deal with memory in a way that thickens who we are, in a way that makes us more substantial & more textured without killing the immediacy of our experience is by utilizing what Buddhists' call detachment

this detachment is also an important component of one of the most important tenents of the True Love Project:

equal value ~ everything (& everyone for that matter) of equal value, everything essential, no over-valuing good or beautiful or light over bad or ugly or dark

if there is detachment in regards to memory then experience can filter in at it's proper pace instead of being compressed & altered by the past

use the example of preparing food. you begin to cut the tomato & you are struck by the intensity of the red, the feeling of the skin of the fruit giving way under your fingers, the sight of the seeds spilling out under the cut of the knife. this is all experiential, sensory information arriving fresh to your being. it could be anything in front of you. you do not have to have prior information in order to appreciate the splendor there

however you have a recipe in mind. you are preparing salsa. perhaps this is something you have prepared before or maybe you are following a recipe. you need to search inside of you for this information or you need to read out of a book (which is an action that activates memory). this interrupts the inward, direct flow of experience

this in & of itself is not a problem for creativity. it is a huge treasure box of inspiration, pungent with imagery, emotional fragrance, narrative and abstract content

the problem is the speed of memory. this where the need for detachment comes in. because of the intensity of memory:

memory

(at least the memory that sticks with us, thankfully there are the memories that wither and fall away over time)

has a tendency to ferment in our consciousness – the sad becomes sadder, the beautiful & tragic become more beautiful and more tragic

memory is concentrated stuff, it only takes a little bit to color the whole present

another interruption of memory on creativity is the phenomenon of the trigger. although memory is not always activated by a trigger, we are such porous beings & our brains have such a huge capacity for storage, we don't always have an accurate method of storage & retrieval. memories are often hidden away deep within us. we don't remember them until something sneaks up on us. they don't call it a trigger for nothing . . . a slight experiential, sensual moment can open the floodgates of emotion, your whole experience can turn on a dime and you are suddenly & completely in the past . . .

we are not discouraging memory, as a matter of fact we are encouraging it. what we are encouraging here in the School of Invisible Art is a mastery of the memory field.

mastery not subjugation

think of your memory in two ways (for now): like a wild horse & like a small child. for simplicity's purposes this is the combination of techniques i am asking you to use: a sweet calling forward and a steady gaze, a delicate but authoritative tether, a firm belief in the path & a respect for wandering, a lack of judgment on trauma, intense experience & boredom

i want you to call memory forward courageously but do not be surprised by the extreme wild approach.

keep eye contact

Your feet are open & relaxed to the earth. you can be touched but not moved from this connection. you are the master but you are so in love with experience that everything is cherished

& you realize by this inclusiveness that you are cherishing yourself

& that, by cherishing yourself, you are calling your creativity & intuition forward. & now the lushness of life will begin & you will be able to use this for your work

from "how to be a love artist" ~ a work in progress

xxxxxxx

loved

yes

The School of Invisible Arts

my darling love warriors:

the very last minutes are here to sign up  . . . .

i invite you to join me in the desert
~just a few short weeks away~
to celebrate the auspicious beginning
of my brand spanking new love curriculum

HOW  TO BE  A LOVE ARTIST
a five day yoga, detox & writing retreat
in the desert
with The Love Artist

May 4 - 9, 2008
Liberty Advance, Boulevard, California

Liberty Advance





Conceptual performance artist & writer Kathe Izzo is
THE LOVE ARTIST
making art from real love for the last twenty years
& creating extremes of controversy and devotion
throughout  Europe & the United States

In this 5-day retreat learn to love without expectation & without resentment with a clear body, heart & mind:

* daily morning Kundalini practice & raw living foods detox diet to alter consciousness & prepare your body to be the sweetest platform for love & creativity

*silent & partnered Invisible Art meditations

* daily Love Artist writing assignments using a trance state to provoke memory, stimulate intuition & create vision to write your love manifesto

*create the portal to be yourself without apology & without limitation

it would be so beautiful to see you here with me

1 hour east of San Diego
$525 includes meals, dormitory accomodation,
spa & gym facilities

Transportation from the airport,
camping & private rooms available upon request

call for registration:
800-434-YOGA

or write THE LOVE ARTIST
for more info

a true love artist knows there is no better love anywhere
than the wide open heart within themselves

no greener grass
no better sex
no fantasy lover that will complete them

please do not hesitate to write me with any concerns
or questions

& as always, i am available for
private love intuitive appointments
in person, via phone or ichat

love to love you

& i believe in you

xox

your love artist




www.katheizzo.com

we never know what moment is the beginning/we never know what moment is the end

we never know who is the lover

we never know what moment could be love

we only know we are the beloved

don't miss it warriors

wake up





hold onto your seats

i am ecstatic & all yours

promise to be back later

remember

LOVE LOVE & NOT THE PERSON

shopping list

*at least 3 kinds of chocolate, maybe 4:
2 dark: one w/ crystallized ginger, one w/ orange
one milk chocolate w/ almonds
one w/chili if we can find it
*watermelon
*grapes
*smoked salmon
*avocados
*those special seed crackers
*coffee ice cream
*espresso/french roast coffee
*ylang ylang infused anything

there is something amazing happening to me, i cannot lie.  i am shape-shifting faster than i can comprehend. my bones are becoming liquid. i am slipping under your door.  i am slipping under every door.  i am feeling my way out into the world like the feral thing i truly am, sniffing, rubbing up against you, touching everything

i have no home these days.  well, yes if i am honest, i have a home with giorgio in hudson & he keeps it so nice for me (or at least when i give him the heads up that the love artist will be arriving soon, then he is sure to make the bed & sweep up the crumbs & kick shane into doing the same), but for the most part i live out of my suitcase. i keep an altar in there

i keep moving.  i am working: teaching, writing. this is the life i asked for. it happened so fast

people are taking incredibly good care of me. i am awed. i am keeping it so simple out of my little suitcase. (READ: simple for me, which is one step down from a steamer trunk) i've got it down. i am still practicing in the early mornings when i can.  i am loving all the time, whoever i can.  i am so open. i am so available. i scare myself

i thought i knew what that meant before but no way.  the way i am available now makes any availability in the past look asleep.  i was sleeping

it is not that i have any regrets, i am just so humbled by how much more i can show up for now, without resistance

slippery

i am slippery with life

but with all of this crazy growth & inspiration, it amazes me, i can come back to hudson, i can go back to the pricechopper & i wander the aisles & the old love shopping list is right there humming along & i could follow the operating instructions & turn on my automatic love pilot & go back, way back

in a heartbeat

i didn't do it today & i can pretty much guarantee i won't do it tomorrow or the next day or the day after that, but the heart is like an elephant, sometimes it just lumbers along & it never forgets

one year -- THE FEELING OF SPACIOUSNESS

2 gratitude lists, one year apart (without edit, style or content):


2007

1. made mad passionate love tho I was mad at my boyfriend, thus taking the high road and getting what I wanted anyway
2. had coffee in bed right away without doing my morning "routine" which really felt like a treat
3. had a private pilates class
4. cried on someone's shoulder, got a big hug, let it go
5. bought those crazy blue garbage bags and put out my trash, what a relief
6. was silent in the car, good music
7. stared at the sky, wished on a star
8. went out, even though I didn't want to, was interested in life
9. heard some jfk speeches at the bar, was inspired
10. made an extravagant late night call, again taking the high road

2008

**WAKING UP IN THAT BED IN THE WINDOW, ON THE PARK IN SPRING, SUNLIGHT FLOODING THE BED, THE SOUNDS OF SPRING OUTSIDE
**WAKING UP WITH ENTHUSIASM
**WAKING UP FEELING LOVED
**FEELING SPACIOUS ENOUGH TO LET GO OF EXERCISE, YOGA & PRAYER, TO BE IN THE MOMENT, THE FEELING OF WALKING BAREFOOT UP AND DOWN THE HALL, THE OWNING THE APARTMENT, THE LOVING OF GIORGIO, THE HOPE (DO NOT LET GO OF THIS APARTMENT, IT IS SERVING YOU)
**THE WALK DOWN THE STREET IN FLIP FLOPS, TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS, AGAIN THE SPRING, THE SPRING, THE SPRING
**THE MEETING WITH MELISSA: ARTIST'S FEE, YES, YES, YES . . . THE STRENGTH OF THE SHOW, THE POSSIBLITIES
**JACK NOT LEAVING RIGHT AWAY, ENABLING ME TO TAKE MY TIME & HANG WITH GIORGIO, WORK ON MY TEXT
**THE HAWTHORNE VALLEY FARM STORE, THE GREEN, THE RAW POSSIBILITIES TINGLING IN MY BONES
**BEAUTIFUL & PRESENT DRIVE
**THE FEELING OF SPACIOUSNESS IN ARRIVING IN VERMONT, THE ABILITY TO HAVE CLEAR SPACE TO WORK, TO HAVE A HOME TO MAKE SOME FOOD IN, TO DO LAUNDRY, TO SPREAD OUT
**THE LOVE & FRIENDSHIP OF JACK, YES, YES, YES . . . BEING ACCEPTED, BEING CHERISHED
**BEAUTIFUL LEO, THE RECOGNITION
**THE GORGEOUS & YUMMY SALAD PIZZA THAT JACK MADE
**FINISHING THE TEXT FOR MELISSA & LOVING IT, SENDING IT OUT
**MY BED, MY BED, MY BED, THE NARCOTIC SLEEP

discipline, chaos & grace

"when i asked father tom where to find god in all this present darkness, he said that god is in creation & to get outdoors as much as you can . . . "

~ annie lamott
grace (eventually)



i have faith in myself. that is a really good thing because i am often mucking around in troubled waters.  i can't help it, i am the love artist --  i didn't ask for this role, nor am i self-proclaimed, it was given to me & perhaps soon it will be time to tell that story -- & love often grows, like the origins of creation, in murky waters, murky waters that are infested with life

it doesn't take a neurocardiologist to detect my subversive engagement of my beloved, though severely distrusted, ex Pdaddy in the past week's posts

i can call him Pdaddy now, though he requested that title be retired 6 months ago or so, or at least i believe i can call him whatever i want now, because the love we shared has had enough time to settle into the biology of me, particularly the Pdaddy-ness of him

in me

which may or may not belong, simultaneously, to another woman at this moment, but no matter it will never be the

particular flavor

of Pdaddy that rests in the core of me

this may make sense to you or may raise the hairs on the nape of your neck into spikey thorns, depending on your preferences when it comes to breakup behavior: the no contact variety, the continued coupling variety, the we are all family variety -- none of which works immaculately, i can tell you as the love artist, but all are worth the old fashioned try

the truth is, as with all things, as with absolutely everything, we only have the present moment & like playing professional basketball, you better be light on your feet & really really love your playmates on an organic, ask no questions basis (i'm talking deep down in your heart & when you are playing heated, rough & hard) & be willing to give up a well-wrought plan on a moment's notice to get it right.  there is no other way

so if i am to be totally honest, i was in contact, tho i have promised to a variety of well-meaning friends who have held my heart, head & hands through the last few months of growing, healing & grieving, as well as to my self in allegiance to my core spiritual beliefs, tho i have promised NO CONTACT & have managed to do so, in person, on the phone & except for a few brisk instructional notes, on email, I have continued to make contact here.  i am fessing up

heartbreak is heartbreak

even when you have as much love discipline as me

& there are a few significant anniversaries of poignant moments currently & i can get so italian on the cusps of poignancy

i know he reads the blog all the time & even in the most resilient of circumstances & even when i am snogging someone else

i am considering what he will think, where his mind will go

& most suspect & revealing to my own narcissism (which in most cases, universally, masks an inner cruelty, particularly when a heart has been broken) i have wanted it to smart, hurt even

so i was not surprised when he called yesterday, nor was i surprised that i returned the call

& before you all get a little crazy on me, hear me out

this is who i am, i love & i can be shameless about that

i held my own & continued to toil joyfully on into the wee hours of the morning working on my projects, stimulated to be in the company & liberation of myself

& my heart feels a little softer today, though admittedly slightly more obsessive, like someone loosened the pressure on my valve(s) a little

black cloud(s) of love

"perhaps everything terrible is, in its deepest being, something that needs our love."

~rainer maria rilke



ok, first i have to get the most important facts out of the way . . new episode of LOST this Thursday.  i just can't wait.  i don't know what i like better, the quantum physics & the the time travel mixed up with my other favorite fantasy, the desert island, or the fact that i can watch this stuff on my computer for free whenever i want, in my most secret intimate moments, which is often on the couch of my closest friends, in my gypsiness, late late at night or in the morning before the roosters start crowing

i don't care if any of you think this is trash . . i spent a month of heart healing holed up with the first three seasons last december & i tell you, it took truckloads of pain away on a daily basis . . better than morphine, for a clean girl like me

i am particularly fond of the black cloud, the monster of the island (among many), that has not been seen since the pious (& gorgeous) mr eko perished (tho, i might be wrong, i am flawed in my obsessions usually, not a pro) . . it's like anti-love, a vapor that protects & destroys, seemingly arbitrarily . . wait, maybe that is not anti-love at all, maybe it is love. .

been thinking a lot about tonglen these days, the Tibetan word for sending & taking.  in a tonglen meditative practice, you work with your aversions.  you look at the parts of your life that make you uncomfortable or maybe cause you pain, & you look at the problems of those around you that maybe cause you pain as well, even the problems of the somewhat anonymous extended world.  in a highly simplified version of this practice,

you become friendly with this pain

you do not avoid it, you invite it into your heart

you sip it in like a black cloud

your own pain & suffering & the pain & suffering of the world & even, even, (this is probably the most difficult to ingest) the pain, the suffering, that is obvious in another who is causing you much pain & suffering . . .

there is no blame in tonglen practice, you just sip it in without judgment, without gagging on bitterness, disappointment, emotional triggers . .

&, as the lovely pema puts it

you ventilate it with your out breath

you ventilate by letting the black cloud pass through you, through your heart without resistance, without the urge to blanch, to protect, to clean up, to fix . .  with a soft heart

it comes out clean

with compassion

we do not need to protect ourselves if we have no expectation, no blame

because then there is no craving

you can drop your storyline

there is no hook

the fragile & the strong

progress report from one of my courageous love intuitive initiates @ The School of Invisible Arts:


towards end of March i was finding the waiting difficult (a month gap between us being able to see each other), so i wrote a letter addressed to her, but not with the intention of sending it to her

in summary it said:

dear love

if we have a relationship i hope that i can truly love you

not just some falling in love woosh, or my own wants & needs disguised as love, but love you truly, deeply & tenderly

i hope that you will love me & i can really feel it & benefit from it.  that the experience teaches me something about love & it not just to be an inward couple thing, but help me to love others better & myself more

if our paths don't join then i wish to take these feelings on & grow some of these things, even if I am single, & own this 'capacity'

with an open heart that wants to love you

dulce

(name changed to protect the innocent)

coffee

let me just say right now
before all of you witnesses

that i get it:

(& i do love to be good)

that i know i am more beautiful & wise & soft & ultimately more free
without the coffee

i know it really doesn't make the writing go better
or make me more fun ;(

& i know, (thank you ms propheta always for your continuing radiance & gorgeousness)

that coffee opens the fear door

i do know
i'm just tucking that information away for today

(note to self: sorry about that)

iamlove (fragment)

gypsy child (thinking of jenn & isa at the moment, with love)

WHEN I SLEEP I BREATHE

when i sleep i breathe,
i skip over my heart,
a fierce button sewn,
an unmade bed in the hall,
a winter tree pierces veined skies
a Gypsy child asks you for money
she touches your clothes
she has a gun in her pocket
together we suck cold dark
in the back of a flatbed truck
in a hammock meant for the small

(1993 – PROVINCETOWN)


i wrote this poem a long  time ago, the winter i was contemplating leaving my husband, the father of my then 3 small daughters.  at the time i wrote the poem i didn't realize exactly how seriously I was considering  leaving, it kind of snuck up of me.  like a crime of passion, one day i was considering it &, the next day, i was gone, having moved downstairs to the pull out couch, or at least one step closer to gone, where i have pretty much remained, in all the translations of gone that there could possibly be over the course of 15 years

of course i still love him

did then, always will

the winter i wrote this poem we had traveled together, me & W and the three kids -- 2, 5 & 7 --  visiting W's family in Germany for Christmas & then taking 2 trains (through the alps) to Genoa, Italy to get the ferry to Sardinia, where my sister was living, who had given birth to a baby a few months before.  we could have flown but W & i had this idea that it would be an adventure to really travel the distance with the kids, sleeper trains & overnight ferries. i have a penchant for making transient homes & having little kids really accentuated that, as crazy as it may seem to all you mothers out there. i just love making a fort.  i think that's probably about 60% percent of why i love being a mom

my sister & i have a complicated relationship, to say the least but i always have high hopes & the best intentions when i visit her, like it's going to be really cozy.  besides she always lives in exotic locations that anyone would want to visit.  there's a strain there, a kind of residue that expectation often leaves behind & it usually drives us both to cook (& eat) which works out for everyone else, but leaves us in the kitchen working off steam together in an uncomfortable silence

i haven't visited her in many years

the thing about this trip is that it was really cold, unreasonably cold for Sardinia, where most people don't heat their homes & have no way to do it in a pinch.  some places might have little fireplaces, but they are hardly meant to heat the house & my sister didn't have one anyway.  that New Year's it was actually snowing here & there & no one knew what to make of it

my sister & i weren't talking (much), the baby was crying, i was contemplating divorce but i didn't fully get that yet & i had 3 sparkly daughters who were dangerously & gorgeously obsessed with the wild dogs that roamed the streets.  they weren't used to so many seemingly domesticated animals that didn't have anywhere to live & that seemed hungry

they wanted to hold them & feed them

i just wanted to be warm.  i took many baths & stayed in there forever. i secretly went to the airport to see if there were any early flights home (i am a total baby).  i begged  W to get us a hotel room. eventually he did, down the street, just for a couple of nights.  we could be messy & loud & it was almost hot there

there were gypsies everywhere. everywhere there were kids asking for money.  on the stretch of deserted highway on the way to the virtually empty resort hotel that we ended up camping out in, was a gypsy camp.  i saw a tent big enough for several families with a fire roaring inside, burning right on the floor in the middle of the (home).  it looked powerful enough to burn the whole thing down & everything around it as well.  people were standing around, staring into the fire.  one kid was dancing 

at night in the hotel, even though i was warm, i couldn't sleep.  i didn't know what was going on with me.  nowhere felt like home, & somehow i knew home wouldn't either

a few months later i walked out.  my lawyer told me women never leave the house, & to go back.  i did eventually, many months later but very, very reluctantly & not for long.  i didn't want it (home) & slowly but surely, with every place i have lived since, i got less and less attached to it (home)

i don't really know what home means other than a safe feeling inside & believe me i know it when it is there

it looks like many things & it is elusive (but worth the truth of it)

i still make forts everywhere & i do love the ability to close the door anywhere, even if it is just while i am in the bathtub or shower somewhere.  i can find a world for myself

now i am the most transient i have ever been & i was worrying about it, til a couple of days ago when I allowed myself to feel how complete i was.  utterly. totally.  i don't know what that means today but i'm not going to make a problem out of it

maximum affection

i miss you

to be brief: there is so much on the love artist horizon, so much, in fact, that i am forsaking you here, but just

imagine

snug in your little beds, that i have many, many surprises in store for you & that

i love you very much