You are a magnificent , electric, glowing creature. Thank you dor your love and precision. You glow in a million colored lights and are as large as the alps. You are positive space, you move, you are, you be. You create- you are a thunderstorm. I celebrate you, my electric body, for your sensitivity as to what is right for me at every moment. I am a happy baby playing, living inside you, trusting in your feelings, I fill you up with love. I follow you, my amazing body: you always know what you need.
A few days ago my body took me out for a walk. It was quite something. I didn’t even think “i want to go for a walk now”, my body just opened the front door and started walking to the park. Like a dog walking itself, it knows what it wants.
Here on the farm I see that work is play. We are big kids making mudcakes and the seeds of our labor grow. Work is play when it’s a process, when it’s a lifestyle.
Here you are, body, lying on this couch pulsating in pink and blue and purple
and I’m inside looking around you and it’s the best exhibition I’ve ever been to,
It’s electric, electrifying~
I follow you, my body electric, you know at every moment what you want and need and I listen, I open my ears, I open my heart and sit in your glow so you can take me to the horizon, to where I want to be.
Generosity is knowing an apple for an apple
And an orange for an orange:
And Respecting them each for that.
Generosity is throwing in the towel when youre tired,
And opening your ears when you can.
It is being a mirror.
It is hurling a smile-shaped boomerang into the sky and then just riding on faith,
As the smile gets smaller and smaller, disappearing into the night sky:
Believing that it will stick up there between the stars like a painting on a wall and will protect you,
It’s knowing that loving eyes are in the sky always smiling down at you, even if you cant see them:
Like shooting a laser beam into a misty room, knowing tha t it does something, and even though you cant see it yet,
Having faith that at one moment one person will look around and say YES, THIS IS IT.
Generosity is trusting the process.
It is love with feet.
it is the ability to stick colored stickers all over my body and say
Here’s my bag of marbles,
Then shake them around:
And let the marbles spread beyond my body.
It’s this ingrained faith that when i fall there will be a net there,
That when i need to leave i will be able to,
That when i want to come there will be an open door to take me
It’s riding into trusting my feelings and following them religiously
This yes, that no, that no, that yes,
For now, for now, for now, for now,
Always for now,
Not keeping things on the backburner
Labelling ideas and throwing them back into the sky until I, or someone else will grab them down: great big idea balloons floating in the abundant idea sky
A bag of marbles that up for the taking (everyone’s for the taking: )
Like colored snake skins in the sky,
With an ability to always crawl into and out of these red, pink, orange, green purple blue tunnels
Like riding on waves and sliding back down onto earth, to take a nap.
It’s like spinning until i run out of breath
Then lying down, then getting up, then rolling around, then holding hands, then riding a plane, then high-fiving someone, then painting, then dancing, then sleeping, then eating
Refilling myself with juic,
I just ate a tangerine
It’s the opposite of looking at my watch and saying “but maybe later i’ll want something else”
It’s the ability to throw my watch out the window and say
I fully trust now, because i am fully doing exactly what it is i want to do right now,
I said YES and here i am, fully.
Its the erasure of your better future self
All the lists of maybes are released with trust that one day they will become available again when you are ready.
Yesterday i made a wish to the ocean,
I WISH I WILL BE ABLE TO TAKE EACH PERSON AS AN APPLE OR AN ORANGE,
Appreciate them for what they are and stop comparing humans ,or comparing humans to internal lists of what these humans should be like
And when i went home i went on tinder,
Suddenly everyone was smiling.
And i felt my mouth fill with basil ice cream, something equally fresh and unusual.
As I fill myself with juice, and waves and fun my cup grows larger and I can contain more,
I can listen more, I can take more, I can see more.
I trust in my decisions, fully, i trust my anger,
My sadness, my loneliness, my happiness,
What if that’s true?
I ask my self, i ask my emotions,
And i let them roll around inside me like marbles
Until they naturally subside.
I will meet what i need to meet,
Like the sun, shooting its rays into the earth and beaming back out to the sun, in and out, in and out,
I shift from myself to others, myself to others, myself to others, in no particular order, I can give and receive kindness, i can ask and offer like colorful sea shells going in and out of the ocean
And i am sharp like a pencil,
I am myself and I say what i feel right now
That is always generosity, it is the opposite of sacrifice,
It is a crystal that shines, a crystla that knows, that feels, that is connected to the moment and just does, without second guessing herself, myself
A baby that does and smiles
She knows what she wants
And the world smiles back
A mirror of the love i radiate.
May i dedicate myself to myself and others simultaneously like intercourse, intercourse of giving and receiving
Of exchanging gifts
Like an endless ring
A snake biting its own tail
May i recognize my needs and loneliness and love and abilities and lather my body up in creams and lotions and glitter and hope and colored flowers
Enter the sea,
Floating away on my back
Riding on faith.
May my crystal clearness bring to me others who are also crystal clear.
Today I hurled a candle at the wall and screamed.
It was a pink and soapy candle,
I was swinging on a swing.
The grass told me it’s ok
The guy who saw me do it left the park
On a spider web
As if I didn’t just scream and hurl
Wondering what it all means and why people keep leaving
All these people I love, the almosts and maybes
And my body told me Not to worry about it
To trust him
And trust my path
And just cry the tears and breathe the anger
So I’m sitting back on the grass watching the light show
As sad blue eyes look at me and my heart breaks and breaks.
I close a line of doors.
Finalyl clothes stop flying about from open drawers in a windy tornado room of flying clothes.
Have you ever watched Mary Poppins? Did you find spoonful of sugar song as inspiring and satisfying as i did?
A click of the fingers and the mountains of clothes fold themselves and shirt sleeves hanging out of half-opened drawers fold themselves neatly back in. So neatly.
I am closing the half opened drawers of my life.
I paid my electric bill fines
And more than that
I am leaving no more loose ends.I am tying the loose ends together.
I can feel the bandanas of my life being folded an ironed and the drwers no longer overflowing.
I have had enough of
“Maybe one dya i will need that”
No! No longer.
Let me keep what i need and say bye-bye to the rest of the loose ends.
Loose ends are like eyes waiting for an answer.
Just standing therelooking like a human question mark, saying
And I walk away, but not saying NO is not the same as saying an inner NO
And sometimes a maybe is as draining as loose hanging shirt sleeves
I want a yes to be a yes and a no to be a no
Just for today
And later when im ready to be a yes
I want to Trust that someone else will also be a yes
But now im a no
And i dont need books and materials and people to wait for me until i am yes.
Hanging in the heavy air- gravitating and taking up heavy, heavy physical space-
I wa nt to free them back up into the world so i can free my self back up into my NO so i can be in the kNOw and trust my NO
I am hoovering a hotel corridor and closing allll the room doors and aaying
I trust that when i need a room there will be an open door.
If i dont want to go into that hotel room now, I won’t later. That’s ok. There will be new hotels
With shiny new rooms
Encased by shiny new doors
And my door will be there, i will ahve my key, and i will open it.
Bye bye love
Bye bye baby good bye.
Spinning and swimming in endless waters: will you take me further than the horizon?
I dance on a big open stage lit by the stars and the universe applauds, the people applaud and they surround me. A spinning endless smile stretches around me from end to end, an endless ring,
from inside me to outside, surrounding me like
circling A or B or C on a multiple choice test,
and I am that A or B or C: the right answer. I am a dancing pink letter, right smack in the middle of the ocean, I am the bullseye and the nodding heads say it themselves: you are fine. You are well. I believe them and arrows of different colors extend outward toward the ring encircling me: pink, purple, blue green, green green green green
Until it fills like a bubble,
a big soapy glittery bubble outlined by an HB pencil.
and I dance and I say
Thank you for letting me breathe through my feelings until I am crystal clear.
Why doth the spinning wheel spin
I kick a wheel off the table and it rolls across the floor, leaving a black mark
i open the door and it rolls out onto blanket grasses like quilts
i blink by the door watching the wheel leaving
there are two options here because, well, i cant go outside
one is to blink and stare blankly into space (I know that option well)
the second is to do what I did the other day:
I was in virtual gaga class
Many dancers united alone in their living rooms
I zoomed in on this girl dancing in her hallway, on the second floor of a large house/mansion
I could really feel the interior and my spirit pouring into her living room in New York, this stranger who’s just dancing, and without knowing it suddenly im there with her, a dancing ghost relieving myself in the vast spaciousness of her home.
Sewing time with a needle
A golden thread piercing through white linen
Piercing silently like a slow breath
Exhale (pulling through)
An endless movement
Underneath everything there is movement
Movement is life,
Like one big dance.
We all go inside and put on our best summer clothing
To emerge as dancers on the other side,
Entering the ballroom-
A night time opera in the dark
Colors floating in blackness
Grasses and blades
Red converses in grass
Walking home form the park
Walking home from the park
She takes off a heel
Slipping her foot in and out
Softly onto the grass
Foot on the earth
A snake slithers past
There is the energy of snails
Crwaling underneath from the earth
Let the ground open up for me
Let us dig up the remains of treasures within
I found something great
He reveals a small pile of colored diamonds
A huge blue moon from above lights the scene
Listening to the slience
Anger climbs up the chimeny, red
Through the top of the opening
To the sky
Big red orb in the sky
The roof top is silent again
More orbs leavefrom the small of the back.
Take it or leave it,
A big envelope opens with many small numbers
This is the difficulty of living with others
Neighbours, as opposed to communities dont awlays want in
She sat there
Above the anger
Inside her own
There were many options glittering up ahead
Take it or leave it.
All the future loves inside a suitcase unfolded like clothes
All with deep eyes looking straight at her , applauding.
You are a genius they say
Here I am gain sitting here
Purple dots from corners of my body vibrating, rather still
A hopeful Yellow ball nodding at me fromt he wall, bigger,
Wanting a pink ball with it
Today there’s a lake near my back,
And flies circling overhead in my room
GO, i told them: i don;t know why they’ve come
The lake in my backside is up and down in movement, again and again, and I
A little flower
sItting here waiting for myself to unfold and open up, again,
To feel again and sparkle again.
Why do washing machines agitate? Move back and forth in their place?
Why do I agitate, too?
She wanted to be a writer
And she was sitting on her swing and as she swung a rainbow emerged from within her, encircling her
She prayed and called out
And as she did so, she shot rays of colors and dots all around her
IM SENDING LOVE@ she said
You are almighty, all powerful
She drank blue and consumed pink
You re psychedelic
She sat there in awe of the huge ocmpliment and cried
I want the weight to be left behind
I want to be lightness
You’re on your way said the train driver,
She jumped into the green cake train, which left s trail of froot loop smoke
Thanks my colored friends
They all appeared,
All powerangers. Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They smiled and she wrote them home, each one of them.
All the peopel youve ever loved are in the room with you
Little circuits of heart beats and energy
Thye encircle you with a layer of protection
They walk with you on the sidewalk
And army of lovers
All your exes, and friends, and past friends and died friends
All the people whove shown you kindness join your team
All the people whose eyes youve looked into and saw truth
Theyre all here with you now
Weaving together this invisible net around you, of love and compassion
And whenever you breathe in you breathe this energy
And when you breathe out you become a little softer, more loving
All the people who you’ve ever loved are ghosts sitting in the room with you today
And as you cry
One rubs your back
One strokes your hair,
Another says “it’s ok girl”
And when you sleep they all curl up next to you
Even the ones youve loved you havent met are here, bob dylan, sylvia plath, georgia okeefe and on and on
And those you havent met yet
Theyre always aroudn you, friendly ghosts holding you up against gravity,
Filling you with life.
there's a small sleeping rabbit between your eyes that just wants to be soothed, disguising itself as head-loops. Breathe to this rabbit, feel how your breath is soft, warm breeze on this small rabbit's fur, how it calms him, like the breath of someone you love sleeping next to you.
A hot air balloon sends up toward the sky
Here i am! It shouts with its purple lips from between the clouds.
Meanwhile down below there’s a girl reading a book in a bath tub.
The string between her navel and the hot air balloon is taut, like a musical chord, and neither of them know it:
That the girl’s navel is holding up the hot air balloon
And that the hot air balloon is pulling the girl up toward the sky -ever so slightly
They are intertwined but unaffiliated
Intertwined but unaffected
This is a poem dedicated to my brand new understanding of love as letting go
Loving, while letting go
Picture an open hand. the hand is outstretched, open, open, open toward the sky
And then, A butterfly comes and sits on it
A gorgeous pink orange yellow fluffly butterfly is now resting on this hand of mine
and then, justlike that
Just as suddenly as it came,
it flies away
It flies away
And i have two options
To try to grasp it, trap it as it tries to leave, or run after it, keep looking up at the sky waiting for it to come back
Or let it go
And if i let it go,
i stil love the butterfly but i dont try to catch it with a net
I dont to to grab it as it begins to leave
I dont have a net
I dont have a bow and arrow
Love isnt about hunting anything
You cant catch anybody
You cant catch anybody
They gotta be magnetized to your open hand and choose to come and sit
You dont need to convince nobody
Tbat youre cool enough or pretty enough or good enough
They gotta choose to come sit.
It doesnt matter if its for a minute
Or two weeks
Or two years
It doesnt really matter,
Someone wise told me,
Everybody leaves in the end ( including you)
In the most positive possible way
It’s all passing fancies
Enjoy the glitter
Enjoy it while it lasts
I stay exactly as i am, doing my thing, with my palm wide open
And new butterflies will come to sit
One will sit and then go
And then more will come
And knowing this involves a deep deep trust
That even if right this second my hand is empty if i keep doing it another one will come
The sun will rise again
You gotta trust the ssun
Opening your hand again after a butterfly leaves
involves first walking through a dark hallway of fear
Where you might think
What if there r no more butterflies?
You might think,
That room i was just in was the only room here
There are no more rooms down this hallway.
And it was nice in that room, it was warm
But you know you cant stay
You know that room is blocked off
And closing the door begind you and keeping on walking means feeling that scary feeling
And staying with it
And staying with it
And staying with it
And staying with it
Until you reach excitement. but before that:
You have to walk down this corridor filled with WHAT IF thoughts and sweeping generalizations.
“what if i dont find anybody else?”
“im nobodys type”
“Everybody whos hot is already taken”
“Everyone in tel aviv is in relationships”
“Everyone on tinder is ugly”
And you come to the conclusion
Why dont i keep something going on the back burner
Why dont i crawl back to that room?
It’s cozy in that room.
Yeah, it’s a guy who sees lots of other girls
But its comfortable
its my ex who told me he doesnt want to be with me
, but we had great sex
but it’s a guy who texts me intensely then dissapears
But he’s so interesting
but it’s a man who lives on another continent
But we have such a strong connection
Theres nothing better on the go
“ i cant find anybody else”
“im nobodys type”
“Everybody whos hot is already taken”
“Everyone in tel aviv is in relationships”
“Everyone on tinder is ugly”
So why not? Theres nothing to lose
I can see this guy in this room while i also look around in the corridor
And then the new conclusion came to me like coins falling from the sky
There’s everyrhing to lose
You cant do something on the backburner and expect to find something else, too
It’s about energy engagement
If youre chatting to someone daily
Or thinking about someone daily
Theyre on your mind
Like a picture of a war partner in your wallet
Youre not letting them go
Your hand is clenched
The butterfly is trapped inside
Youre not available to meet someone else
Youre hung up
Youre engaged, honey.
Your resources are absorbed and the universe cant throw something new at you
Or if it does, you wont be able to see it
You cant be at two places at once
If you want a new thing to come along, you gotta get out of that room and shut the door behind you, not looking back.
And letting go involves crying, more crying
Not calling that person youre letting go
Not calling that person youre letting go more
Not calling that person youre letting go even more
Maybe a week of crying
Maybe six months of crying
ThenNot calling that person youre letting go to let them know youve let them go
Then some final crying
And finally its like your’e standing at sea with pink sand in your hands
You open them up, the dust spreads, flies, and guess what
The pink sand becomes part of the air around you
You dont need a pile of pink sand in your hands to know that pink sand exists
It exists! You know it!
And love exists
And you still love pink sand
Even though you let it go
And i still love all the people i ever loved
No matter whether im with them or not
No matter whether ill ever see them again
Thats ok that’s their choice
Or my choice
But doesnt mean i dont love them
It just means that in the reality of daily life i dont communicate with them
It doesnt eem so dramatic or drastic anymore
I dont feel rejected or abandoned by anyone anymore
Becasue i keep with me all the people i ever loved
No matter how it ended
Theyre with me like different functions of a swiss army knife
A collection of pokemon cards
Like a gang of ghosts that keeps me company and gives me hugs in lonely nights
I just summon them like spirits
With some people ive loved ill never talk again
With some i communicate once a year
With other people i love i talk on a daily or weekly basis, these are called “close friends”
And really what im trying to say is that i love everybody
In different intensities, depending how closely we resonate.
I love myfriends
I love my dead grandmother
I even love really mean people that i dont know
Who shout at me on the bus
Even people whove hurt me and i dont speak to anymore
I love them
I dont want to engage with some poeple
Some people’s energy is very harsh and i step away from them
But i love them
That feeling, love, is inside me and i project it outward
I love you all witches
Everyone’s a beautiful witch
With their own special witch craft to give the world and the whole point of being here is figuring out what that witchcraft is and releasing it into the world - like pink sand
I fucking love all the witches
And the ones radiating the same energy frequency as me will stick to me
And i understood about love that it’s so open,
That it starts in my heart , it beats it beats it beats it carries blood and then it spills to the outside of my body, from a feeling of generosity. Love starts small inside and it expands.
as self love grows,
people feel it
It expands outwards
love pours out more and more in huge and infinite quantities: love that has no opposite: into paintings i paint, dances i dance, plants i water, people I smile at. Love is energy, love exists everywhere and inside everything, if our eyes are open to see it. I am love, you are love, a tree is love, a cat is love, even in places with no cats and no trees there is love. Beyond the daily dramas that we get trapped in (which don't really exist), everything is totally fine, there is fresh air and quiet. No hate, no worries, just love and everything interconnects like a big big hug.
And once you let go things WILL magnizie to you by god you go out in the world, it can be the digital world or the real world, they function in the same way, and you do your thing, and you search for what you deserve and suddenly people will say
Hi, youre awesome, i want to be your friend
And this will happen more and more
The air is sweet and filled with smarties, these smarties are nuggets of life
I can feel them floating artound the room, touching my skin
Variations of love
And magical people
You can fill your pockets with smiles from these loving people
As you love yourself and do yoru thing and keep your palm open you will keep magnitizing magical people to you,
You dont need to try hard
Just let the butterflies come close and cover you and envelop you with the manifestation,the reflection of your own love
The purple calls me from the depths of the ocean. We’re ready for you,
The blue’s there too, grounded to the earth
I dive down
An orange in one hand
An apple in the other.
The purple is rough
It rattles at the touch
Like a vibrator
Yellow you’re a bit of a fucker
You left me long ago
I wanted you i needed you
Ive worn you as a charm around my neck
I brushed my teeth with pale gray for so long but i needed YELLOW
Others had glowing mouths mine was numb
Green i fall into you like a hole
feels good to feel you
I want to eat you
Pink fizzes on my tongue
It tastes like spoonfuls of chocolate pudding
One after the other.
I eat it like stars
You dont need to say much about the red, you dont need to mention the red
You dont even need very much red
But we all know the red runs the show
It holds everything together, it’s the answer.
Once, it disappeared, and i jus couldnt paint.
There wouldnt be much without the red.
And white’s the napkin you place the cake on,
you can fly around it, in and out of it.
It helps you breathe. Zen.
Weirdos all over the city are walking around with white paper bags with presents especially for me- the kind of presents you give to a beautiful fuckable four-year-old- weird men are walking the city not knowing when theyll next see me, always ready with these paper bags to finally see me and ask, ‘i hope it’s ok i got you a present?’ they hand them to me and i dont know what to do with these objects that i always accept, that are my precise taste, marbled colored pencils, flowery socks, with the fact that these men may have been walking around for a month with this little white paper bag rattling in their bag in the slight hope they Might see me, that they might be able to unburden themselves of their love for me, into me, white paper bags full of semen and lust and socks and pencils.
The palm tree leaves are each a different colour like a xylophone and they move with the breeze mellifluously like god’s windchimes.
Bells n’ lights
Suddenly - dots everywhere
Flickering lights on the hills
Winking at me
Young musical notes
(the mountain is made of dots.)
“Imagine if solid is AIR for another lifeform- we keep looking and can’t find ‘em cos their air is our solid so we jus can see ‘em.”
what if all of matter is made of little dots?
“Like atoms?” he laughed.
Everything has a beat- a thread of curiosity and creativity between all of matter- a big blanket.
Bearing with slow moments
its a little painful and my feet get itchy- think it's a special skill- how do you twiddle your thumbs and stay stay stay with the moment rather than drift away body or mind?
I am in a board room far away from the board room a spectator of the board room
A big gulp of 'normal coffee' - i dont understand lawyer lingo- his fingers are very long
and they have these dreamy marbled folders
a symbol of impeccable organisation i wish i could emulate. The lady smiles shyly at me across the table. she hasnt said a word apart from "fifteen" "thirteen" and "five", the ages of her grandchildren. A sweet, sweet slow smile
holding the space while the others bicker
me and her silent, rediating this slow impatience, me with my notebook, she with the smile
kicking the dust around.
i knew there was a thread i knew there was a thread
i knew it
beads of squares, beads. our hands.
A crooked smile hangs on the living room wall, a mantlepiece above the plant, the sofa,
There’s a ticking clock but it always shows 4:20.
There’s a hand on his shoulder, she caresses him as he drinks his evening tea: two drops of milk. He says, “I love you” and she makes spaghetti: very long strings like a washing line, and they hang the stories of their complicated day on it with pegs. Some are happy stories, some are ridiculous and unbelievable, others are energetic and exciting. She laughs as he accentuates the best parts.
There’s an inexplicable drip in the bathroom. When we open the door, the floor is just a little bit wet, but the taps are dry. It’s a mystery him and i can’t quite work out.
He is over the wall, probably masterbating, but maybe watching a sad movie, or a show on netflix, what is he doing? Since when do i care about what’s happening on the other side of the wall? Will he come out of his room? Is he thinking about me and what I’m doing?
What am i doing? I look down and I’m in bed and I’m staring at facebook, as if he’s an ugly old lover, I can’t stand him, he’s so boring and has nothing interesting to say. My personal life has boiled down to bed with facebook, as if nothing exists outside of this pathetic paradigm.
In the laundry room there’s a slow and faint hum. It’s reassuring, it’s consistent, the only consistent thing in my life right now: for the next hour: this hum, hum, spinning.
Outside the window: sun, outside the sun: I see Chaya passing by, I see Gera, and a lot of other people, definitely with names, but i don’t know what they are.
In the kitchen: a pile of bottles, a museum of good and bad moments alike. When we drank this, we were arguing furiously, this one, when Ori left the apartment and slammed the door, and threw football posters on your face, This one, when we had sex the first time, in your bed, and i left awful blood stains all over your sheets. Is it not weird that we aren’t talking now, but you left the stains? I passed by the other day and saw them. It’s like you got my name tattooed on yourself- how can you not stand me but live with my blood adorning your head as you sleep? The faint and metallic smell penetrating your dreams? I cant even live with my own blood: aren’t you disgusted?
This bottle- the first time we spent time,
This one- we watched a good film and my feet were touching your leg.
Each bottle a memory, each a pile of tears floating in the ocean of our pointless drama.
I leave through the back door, I sleep in strange beds, I climb back in and look at the sad place we created: a plant pot you were given at a wedding* and the plant that’s always there, “Look, it’s already dry.” Neither of us is ready for the responsibility of plants, or living things, especially not ourselves. The fridge is empty apart from: soy sauce, serracha, half a lemon (gone off) a pot of yoghurt, or cheese, i can't remember, but it’s definitely too old to eat. Our lives revolve around moments outside of this apartment, cigarettes stuck down our throats, tongues stuck down our throats.
(*who receives gifts at others’ weddings?)
Right at the tipping point
Just when things start leaning on each other a little bit too much
The marble falls off the table
Put an umbrella in your jaw and shut your teeth tight-
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