Winter

Sometimes I'm super into the romance of winter.  Walking my dogs this morning in the gently falling snow was magical.

Weekend

I spent the weekend in Lawrence University hanging out with the nut pictured above.  I went up with my two best guy friends, and had possibly the bro-iest time ever.  I will miss (observing) games like Detonator and consistently being the butt of jokes once I return to the land of women.

Dreaming Too Vividly Lately

Weird

friend: "If any girl likes Monty Python, she's a keeper"

me: "Girls like Monty Python! I like Monty Python!  I listen to my parents records of them."

friend: "Elsa, look at you, compared to any normal girl."

me: "Oh. Right"

When the Going Gets Tough...

Cold

The creeping stench of body and too too too much
treadmills me to that place I sleep.

I let the lack of location seep into the
paranoia creeping into the cold back corners of my brain
as I lie awake in bed running my fingers over my scraggily ripped rib cage.
Tiny ridges form a mountain pass to steep and
I plunge off the rib and into the abyss of my stomach. Fuck I'm still not asleep.

My eyes are puffy as if my body is telling me to force them closed,
And I surround myself with glass,
perpetually gnashing my teeth
so I wake up with scars on the inside of
that dreadful dark cavity, my mouth.

I feel the chills,
and no not the chills of superstition or a bad prediction
but a hair raising sensation satiating every pore
until the cold becomes so situated on my skimpy corpse
that I surrender.

Beirut in my hometown

Beirut is playing tomorrow in Milwaukee at Turner Hall.  I so want to be home now.
Shows out here are insanely packed and expensive and hard to get to and the fact that it will be an intimate show and inexpensive and in MILWAUKEE yeeee I wish I was there.

Thanksgiving

I'm in Marin County at my Godparents for Thanksgiving, and I forgot how charming the Bay Area is! There are so many things to be thankful for.

1. My family.  We have gone through a lot this past year, and it has made me realize how much I need them.  My parents are so devoted. My brother continues to be the most important friend I have. We will stay strong as a family, no matter what. 

2. My friends.  My friends from home, who understand my roots, who know my history.  My girls at Scripps, the brightest young things I've ever seen.  240 housemates. Jonah and Joseph, my improv brothers, and Box, my improv family. And my camp friends, who understand the magic of Leelanau and Kohahna. 

3. My education.  The fact that I feel stable in my learning, and growth as a student and a person.  I am so grateful to be at the Claremont Colleges, surrounded by people that are inspiring every day.

Can't

Pasadena

Art history homework is so much easier to do in Pasadena, surrounded by pastries and coffee.

The Last Night

They knew it was me. 

Through my scent, they way I walked

My “heyyyy girls,” 

The slip under the fence, the clasp of my abs, the soft swing of my hair

Knotted in damp curls

Told them I was no predator

And how small I feel

When stating up at the white abyss that knows no end

Reflected in black marble,

Far as visible

A cool so deep 

That in between my arms

Rippling with taught muscle

All I feel is 

Open.

They were all sleeping, 

Together, under the overhang of the barn,

The hot breath through giant nostrils

The calm swish of long tail.

She put her nose to my stomach 

And I breathed. I breathed the air of eight years.

The holy air

Pure as the milky way

I sat there, in the dust, cradled by my horses

And cried and cried and cried. 

And they understood. 

Avocado

I think one of my favorite foods is straight avocado.  My housemate's uncle owns an avocado farm, and 20 ripe ones just arrived on my living room table.  YUM

Always Know The Right Thing To Say

Another Revival

I wish I could take the art film seriously

But I was actually more focused on your breathing

And the fact that I still don't speak Italian

_____

I take the art film so seriously, 

Taking vigorous notes in cursive, 

Remembering the directors previous work,

Discussing it in fluent French twice a week.

Though I'm not afraid to laugh during the screening.  

Your breathing is the furthest thing from my focus,

The inhalation of midwestern night air

And exhalation of cigarette smoke

Is happening, but I'm not thinking about it. 

Another thing; 

I speak Italian. 

Get Rid Of It

DESTROY WHAT DESTROYS YOU

Three Albums

The other day, on a long bus ride, I was thinking a lot about albums that say something about my past, present and future. At this point in my life, these three albums are my favorite of all time.  

1. Weezer Blue Album (reminds me of 2006)

When I was in middle school, my Godparents son (god-brother?) was in high school.  He was soooooo cooooool. And he loved Weezer.  We would drive down to his house in Chicago from Milwaukee at least once a month, and eventually I asked him to burn me this CD.  Listening to it in my CD player on the drives to and fro became regular. And, also, what a perfect, classic album.

2.  Merriweather Post Pavilion (reminds me of 2009)

The first time I ever heard "Summertime Clothes" was also the first time my boyfriend-y like guy (whatever) showed any PDA.  He held my hand in the backseat of a car full of our friends as we drove to a nearby park on Lake Michigan to get high. This whole album reminds me of that period of time spent with him.  I remember packing for camp listening to this album on repeat and wondering what life would be like without him when he went to college and I stayed in high school. Then I went to camp, where no ipods or personal music devices were allowed, and of course whenever we could listen to music I would try to sneak this album on and everyone would give me weird looks and skip the track. I listened to "Brother Sport" in the shower when I found I had gotten off the Waitlist of my first choice college. The combination of happiness, nakedness, wetness, and AnCo was amazing.  I know it’s cliche but I have such an emotional attachment to this album.

3. Fleet Foxes Helpless Blues (reminds me of 2011)

I listened to this album on repeat in the horse barn this past summer at camp.  Being alone, and completely exhausted, in a 100 year old barn with 6 horses, listening to this album, wow.  The small of hay, and sweat, the look of tanned skin and feel of tanned leather. The calm sense of this album helped me deal with all the emotional stuff that went down this summer.  I remember running on a remote Michigan road to this album. And falling off horses but having the pain and happiness of life be more overwhelming than any injury, feeling more internally than externally. I would often decompress by singing Blue Spotted Tail to my horses as I fed them dinner.  I love this album.  

Private Moment In Margaret Fowler

I love "the secret garden"

Dog Eyelashes

I realize that one of my favorite signs of happiness and contentment is when a dog's eyes are half closed, in the sun.  Their little eyelashes barely shading their eyes, they look so satisfied. I saw a dog just basking in the sun today and it reminded me of all the millions of things I am grateful for.

Pictured: my dog, Gwynneth

Right Now, Outside

Two trees growing together.

The presumption that they will grow together

And develop roots, strong and regular

Is what's throwing me off

The pretty tableau of two attractive brunette teenagers

Succeeding
Pecks at my throat.

I thought I had angst

But now I'm realizing that the offspring of two artists 

Have twice as much weirdness
And are bound to crash;

Because

Its a fucking human life

And all one cares about is creating meaning

Perhaps spotted with happiness

Before your skin stretches over your cheekbones

And the vermin nibble your finger bones
And the stench of your rotting body
Is overwhelming even to the worms.

The stop and start has been driving me a little oddly off.

The days when my eye habitually twitched

Combined with

The nuclear -ness of a family that took vacations together

To art museums

Haunts my now fully hollow self

To start in a new place 

Change of location change of locale
Has power, somehow

But

Half of me is somewhere else 

And the words come out covered in a dusty curtain.

Our roots 

Filled with fertilizer, are being hacked and chopped and mutilated by 

Life.

Therefore, think about the idea that sometimes moving and fleeing and changing and changing

And growing up 

And out

And away

Is normal even though

For a human, nothing is normal. 

Back At School

‎"I am two fools, I know,


For loving, and for saying so


In whining poetry." --John Donne