I am a chrysalis. Stretched in a hammock, wrapped in a cocoon of cotton/silk blend, I hang suspended between two trees, with the sunlight dappling the leafy canopy overhead. The lake is glittering below me, and the breeze is cool, and laughing. I think of you, many oceans away, waiting out sandstorms, and I marvel at the possibility that despite our unique adventures, despite the friends who try so hard to fill us with love, despite our interesting jobs and busy schedules, we might sit in the same kind of quiet and yearn for the exact same things.
The first of July is a big day for me. Leading up to this day, I always feel displaced, anxious, and melancholic, and I usually forget why. Then, at some point around noon, on Canada’s bithday, I remember. On July 1st, Four years ago, I sat alone in the dark on the balcony of my penthouse apartment over-looking Lake Ontario in Burlington. There were fireworks all along the harbour, and my boxer-mastiff Dudley was snoring at my feet as I was sipping wine. My ex-husband was gone, and never coming back, and someone new had planted something deep and inevitable…
Was look at pictures of you. And you. And I could hardly wait to get home and tell you so.
From the land of Wiki: Dave Van Ronk, an early supporter and teacher of Dylan, had the following criticism to make of the song All Along The Watchtower: That whole artistic mystique is one of the great traps of this business, because down that road lies unintelligibility. Dylan has a lot to answer for there, because after a while he discovered that he could get away with anything—he was Bob Dylan and people would take whatever he wrote on faith. So he could do something like “All Along the Watchtower,” which is simply a mistake from the title on down:…
On Thursday morning, I woke up on my own. I woke before the alarm, and I woke without Toulouse, and his morning routine of running his paw through my hair and nibbling on my nose to wake me. I lay still in bed, afraid to look for him because I assumed the worst. After a few moments however, he dragged himself out from beneath my costume rack, and mostly only using his front legs, pulled himself to the edge of the bed. A pathetic meow indicated that he wanted to be lifted up. Overnight he had almost completely lost the…
