deeannland, frozen

~"Loose" by Primer. i'm glad i'm too old to be in the audience when they sing this song, but i do miss those mosh-pit days.  last time i was in a mosh-pit, i lost a shoe.  Sandon, if you're reading, thanks for piggy-backing me home.

~Encounters at the end of the world, by W. Herzog.  want a good cry? watch the penguin scene. want to feel fascination, surprise and small? watch the diving scenes.

~"Even when the bird is walking we know that it has wings." ~Victor Hugo because just once, you should walk passed someone, make eye-contact, and just know.  i hope it's happened to you.  something you won't forget.

hi gang.  been dealing with some personal things of late and the blog suffers.  i've never ever been one to write a journal or any such, so i'm always slightly disgusted and amused that i come back.  at least three times a week i hear from someone who says that they watched one of my movies, loved a quote, discovered a song or 'got' what i said and usually adds to it.  this i love. maybe that's why i come back.  not to contribute at all, but to hear from you.  so, i've said it before..thanks again.

a little while back, i wrote something about my memories of driving to mammoth lakes, not very long after i finished chemo.  it still feels relevant.  i have pretty steadfast memories of the trip, the time and introspection.  i went to mammoth to help paint a house.  i saw a big beautiful bear about 3 feet away from me and i saw the stars clearer than anywhere i've ever seen them.  i remember taking an early-morning walk and the silence of the cold was unlike anything. i wanted to strip down and disappear.  i still do.

Driving through hundreds of acres of desert, I didn’t feel the beauty of it, I didn’t listen to the Joshua trees, all I could think was How many rapes happened here? How many bodies buried? How many wide-eyed pleas? Duct-taped mouths? I wanted to ask the driver to stop the car- don’t even pull over, there’s no need, just stop. There was no one before or after us. Let me work my way through the sand. I don’t think I’d have to dig to find a stray tooth or wristwatch. We drove on.
We passed a town called Okinyoke, a name i considered around my tongue. There was a place named Independence that had exactly 14 houses, a playground, 4 tricycles, an impala on blocks, and a functioning jail that is nearly larger than the town. We stopped in a town called Jerkette Junction where a man missing fingers said he lives on a gold-mine that eats strangers, especially government men. He told me he had a dog like mine, but the coyotes got her. There was no expression in his tales and likewise, I felt nothing. Where once I was proud of curiosity, now I sauter interest. I am interested in the wrong things. I know it.
For two years, I lived in an arid scape, very much like these towns, that was peppered with one-room haunts. All of the windows and all of the doors were boarded; those that were pried were dangerously opened, by ruffians and guiltless ne'er-do-wells. The quiet of these stops was unnatural. The towns suddenly just lost. 

There was a long dog chain attached to no dog, but tied to a signpost that read: SEVERED HEAD FALLS: Come make a wish. I dropped many shiny coins into the town well, but never once heard them hit bottom. This is chemo.