sunday journal

i love late march in portland. i love the temperature of high fifties, low sixties, warm with a hint of chill.  i love the how the sunset goldens everything & everyone, making them look beautiful or wise. i love that i can leave my windows open & feel the air for awhile. i love how happy the walked dogs look when i encounter them on the sidewalk. and i love how i am constantly ambushed by bursts of color in my neighborhood, as if the gardens had decided while we were sleeping to throw a surprise party. turning a corner i walk into the arms of perfume. 

learning 
to take

one bite 
only 

abandoning 
the rest. 

i yell out her name as she's about to go in. she looks around, quizzical, as if i was the answer to a question she hadn't meant to ask. "i don't have to explain my presence in this neighborhood" i say with a mischievous smile as i approach the peach painted porch. she pauses at the door and turns around, caught on the threshold, smeared in amber honey light, while a simple sign behind her flatly states: 
no soliciting. 

that was massively unmassive, the violinist said.
you must mwah both cheeks.

i took the long way home from the madness of movies, circling around laurelhurst park where i found a heart in the grass. i marveled at how ducks can skid directly into the water. i stopped to place my hands on a fat old tree, paying my respects to the elders. i almost shot a photographer who accidentally walked into my frame. shooters don't like to be shot, do they? baffled at my failure to rejoice in its splendor, i resolve to spend more time reclining in the oasis of laurelhurst. 

her hips had the jauntiness of a woman who could do things with cherry stems that you would very much like to believe in.

i have a crush on a couple of the women who work at the video store (so nineties!).  one of them is very curvy & smoldering and just gives off an evil vibe. she's got that sexy french store clerk thing going on, but without trying, which of course, makes it even sexier. i asked the other one, a cute, slightly gothy & short woman, and strangely, that doesn't it narrow it down much, if she's seen anything good lately, and she replied, do you like documentaries? and i felt like, what! are you kidding me? but i said yeah, and she told me she saw alien boy and i told her that movie made me really mad at the police and she was like i know! (apologies if i like, used like quite a bit there)

i'm having an affair with photography and poetry is getting very jealous. where have you been all day? poetry demands when i get home in the evening. been out ALL DAY with that camera again, haven't you? didn't even write this morning and we ALWAYS write on sunday morning no matter what. but you took pictures, didn't you? it's true. i've been gleefully shooting all day. i've never felt this way about another medium. poetry has always been my lady. sure, our marriage has had its ups & downs, and yeah, we've kind of gotten into a rut lately, but man, i love shooting pictures! it's like all these places i see everyday have suddenly sprung to life. everything feels so new & alive, so vivid. and the sex? well, me & photography, we rompin'!