Monday, January 18, 2010

rainy days and mondays

my dreams are full of flying and falling and i sometimes wake up and don't know the difference.
i'm not sure why i was falling last night, i just know that i was and i pumped my legs to control the landing.
one of the greatest learned skills is how to fall properly.
it's useful.
last night, i landed in the dirt filled backyard of what seemed to be a preschool. no grass. just dirt and trees. and the sun. corners of shade. i landed on the wrong side of the tracks, which turned into a freeway and then into an aqueduct. in order to travel it was necessary for me to jump. large kangaroo like leaps, godzilla sized feet. every jump caused damage. i was so worried i would hurt someone and yet i could not stand still.
i had to find my daughter.

sometimes i leave my bed more tired than when i crawled in.

this morning, i unfolded the paper to do the crossword. it's monday. i know i can at least attempt the crossword on monday. first, i skim the news and my eyes land on a photo from haiti.
my heart. she falls and she jumps and she causes damage.
she is so worried she will hurt someone and yet she cannot stand still.


  1. I followed every one of your trains of thought here - and can so relate to waking up more tired than when your head hit the pillow. Oh this lovely thing called adulthood :)

  2. Oh Krista, to be plagued by such dreams! The love you have for your little one is palpable.

  3. God you write so simply and beautifully that it makes my heart ache.

    I know exactly how you feel, hon. Except my dreams are full of death and blood and battles to save everyone I've ever met.

    Maybe one night I can hitch a ride on one of your dreams?

  4. have you seen Avatar? i just saw it yesterday. they way they move and leap and jump. i see it in you. (i feel it in me.)
    the world is elastic, thank god, and can accomodate all. unfortunately sometimes it accomodates too much, like what has happened and happens in Haiti.


  5. OH oh oh, where are you comments for your video post? Shit. I've chill. Good loving hopeful chills.

    And soup! Soup! Farkin soup! My new (new! new!) love has a pot of soup on his woodstove now a million miles from me and he found me, and I him, quite like this...


  6. Everything you write comes out like poetry. I love coming here and I love your voice.


  7. This is beautiful!

    I had a dream the other night - it would never come across as poetic. It involved me talking to a large group of people about Tori Spelling.


use your kind words.