quantum

thx

1. My life path is on fire but the flame is blue. 

 Story

2. The fireplace rocks are also (Caribbean) Blue.

Space

3. So it was only ever 20% Los Angeles.

Sex

4. Mean-ing 80% belongs to this deal with the devil, made 15 years back.

Style, as in < poetic spectrum >

5. Karma is what happens next.

Spirit

43

🦥

If I was slow to start (headiness, readiness) my the first month out the gate, I am making up for it now. Forgiveness implicit in all directions, as being a human is a whole thing. Like I said, I expected I would bring myself with me, as that's the only 'real' option. I knew I was down and have been. It's hard to see you're not well when you're formulating how to shift the biggest boulder. And solutions will allude you until they don't. So, you lank away in the shadow, or the rare bleachers with shade cover. Team player babes don't actually want to go. Nobody wants to hear about the baseball. It's too much, Meg! Their dad will only want to hear about baseball, all about all the sports. And my fixation is Home, or the running to and from, but I think that's subsiding with maturation — principles + years — and the Maryland of it all.

The keys were right here and I couldn't see them, or couldn't handle seeing them quite yet. Big change happens in increments and I'm sensing critical mass momentum as I get ideas into our 4D material world → out of my 3rd eye.

I have to tell you, the state of Maryland seems very organized. I'd say "just like me" though I knew I had the security deposit box key somewhere, but I couldn't — 

Had to Reschedule my appointment, push it out once and again, gain time to unlock the requisite documentation to show Maryland I am who I say I am. There. The small brown envelope, preprinted: KEYS INSIDE. Top of the paperwork pile brought on the plane, still tucked in the middle pocket of the mini black leather backpack worn on the flight. Nineties round 2 with mini polarized frames and square-toed boots, which I continue to covet in all the colorways. 1 reason to be a designer: You cut yourself whatever you like till it feels easy for you to do you. Ex) Rick & his shorts, twenty pairs in little stacks.... A perk from the constant oversight of a man-made machine.

Four

Three

Two

One

Unlock my box and there's 1/2 the stuff I need to share, old and original. I've gathered the rest from what's arrived in the mail month one. Auto-payments to establish and so much * to streamline. Sometimes this stuff gets me off, but I don't need quick highs at the present.

Okay, this is what I mean by organized: the MD DMV requires no messy logins with passwords you'll never remember and ∴ always be resetting. Tidy unique links you click to Confirm [Reschedule].

I arrive early and see they've texted a link to Confirm my arrival. Click. An immediate invitation to Window 6, which I note because everywhere from the new house is 6 minutes away. Exit the car, round the bend to a pleasant seeming man in purple waving from his window. He will make me look straight at the camera, no slight tilt for masking under-eye circles. Whatever. I leave with a temporary license and actual plates, optically less encumbered by California.

mwj wears Snob and braids with a black cotton tee ! + a bra ! on the tiny pic, in the mail month two.

Iris wears Ag Tags on her nose and rear. Orange with red on dark blue is a bold move, but let's support her choice to roll around declaring:

Our Farms, Our Future

Two Someones want to be shades of setting Sun Ponies

Doing lots of HQ work with clients who love their home and wish to roam. 

    A migrating herd of us

        More Sun Ponies

🎠

🏇

🐎

🐴

 

__

10.31.22 👻

tarot on the front porch of the B&B
tip jar full

11.01.22

painters slow start

    I miss my Los Angeles guy but he's my guardian angel

lawyers — discovery review — add two questions 

owner and handyman come over

discuss the ghost

dad arrives

hangs out for a bit — likes the place — ready to farm 

meet dad at the farm

get stuff out of shipping crate — family relics 

head home for Hunter the locksmith

    so many doors between house and garage

walk into town 

ring the bell of a new pal's place for a quick hello 

11.02.22  👻

up all night again

shower, hot water trying

moka pot to go 

    & my water bottle

neighborhood walk wet leaves smell real

going to trade sessions with Tarra

boiler maintenance; parts ordered

lawn mowed

    not the yard clean up I thought was happening, but a precursor 

painters painting blue trim white

    painting Espresso Bean below bedroom wainscoting

washing machine maintenance is cool and gross
2 farm

walk the farm

discuss fence maintenance and property lines

day of the dead indeed

    graveyard calls: graves have been located

check on duck blind

into town

portobello sandwich, to stay

    dad won't picnic in the cemetery

clean the graves of great grandparents

head home, dad heads home

plumber swings by to replace primary bath sink drain

    the sink on the left had been leaking on the floor 

glossy yellow lily to match the shiny deco tiles

paint the cabinet too, my whole world within a world thing

borrowed chairs

antique glance for my new desk — not there

relics getting air, another night of air

lamps will need to be rewired; where ?

deep clean tomorrow, an all day exercise

new friend coming to walk

want angels on the ceiling, I think I know who will know someone

    yes, her daughter when she comes home

realize I have interacted with at least three grasshoppers or grasshopper adjacent creatures over the last two days

dinner 

discuss the 👻's brother and bible study ?

19

🕳

🐇The internet connectivity was recalibrated early last week. It had never really worked in this house. You'd finally find a movie, get it going and less than a minute in 𑫨 𑫨 𑫨 till you quit, turning off the television. The maybe wheel isn't horrible, but then what's the television for? I hear my youngest coaxing:

💬

load, load, the circle of life

Presuming hassle, I don't want to call. Put it off until I was finally going through the office paperwork pile and in the stack was a statement. An hour later the technician was puttering about in blue booties, speaking a shared language of metaphor, feeling like a teacher (had been, is).

It was a trifecta of issues and he's big on the order of operations, so we went from competing machinery, to booster placement (tech note: open space is an asset for clear lines of communication) to controlling the flow coming from the outside-in. Pressured, rushing in, in his words, like a firehose trying to fill a water glass.

Decisions 𑫨

Arrangements 𑫨

Boundaries 𑫨

My mind shifts afterwards. Recalibration: Monday. Epiphany at an Encino strip mall: Friday. I now have different expectations for beauty on this plane, after the flow was slowed just enough to compute, to make sense. Like how I've been learning French forever. Or more like, I get why this works for some. This: Los Angeles.

To be content here, in human form, living inside structure, is to be able to process the messages you receive --- messages received on your how, so you may perform your responsive actions --- your what. Fluid Mechanics: influx >---> efflux

Can-will-get-do-It
My standards seemingly otherworldly, but here I am. Los Angeles is the teacher; the teacher I dislike though respect, meaning, I won't be the same after leaving her classroom.

My neighbors are learning valve mechanics too, probably why they missed the 5:20pm showing in the basement of the Encino Town Center. Private viewing of The Territory, which would have been hard to sit through on the couch at home. Some cannot look away from violence whereas some cannot stomach a peek. Violence is a mainstay of here-ness, no? Must we accept violence? Accept it's current incarnation? A big part of the human story. Protagonist!

During my middle school years, I got to scrub into open heart surgeries with my best friend, a Megan without an h. Her father was a chief cardiac surgeon. Scrubs, caps, blue booties. Up-close in the guts of reparative gore and it was breathtaking. Well-oiled-machine. Classic rock jams over the speakers of the operating theater.

An accident on the side of the road brings freeway traffic to a standstill. The lungs of our ecosystem are being destroyed while we look Elsewhere: at screens.

✩

ancientfield came through

🐢
⬤

farm&d

postmarked

mom&dad

eastonMD

🐟🎶

♀︎When is to do to deal?

♂︎When is to do to avoid?

12

Couldn’t sleep. My legs so restless, sharp jolts all through my limbs, arms too, keeping me awake and it’s annoying. No magnesium fizz here, I’m across town, he’s back in the rental, this time sweeter to return to something semi-familiar. Like the farm this last go-round, my fourth visit since, a whole week's dedicated stay, despite all the crazy. The old farmhouse is Crazy's HQ, just begging to be gone. There's an order to efficient madness. Soon, rest assured.

Finally fall asleep and wake up wrapped up. Play, play, pack, coffee-walk. I don’t bring my phone with me. I’m paying but not ordering, so I get to sit outside at a small folding table in the early sun. My eyes focus on ants between the slats, busy on the bricks. Then a tiny spider on a wooden slat, creeping closer. Still waiting in line, he delivers a sprig of rosemary. I rub it between my palms and dab the oil on my pulse points. Slow stroll with a scone I’ll save for salted butter and hot honey. Goodbye and then he’s calling my name; my phone. Errands, boy retrieval, home to turn off the phone. Too much screen time has crept in.

They're happy playing in the cool house with a castle they were ready to donate then changed their minds about. This cardboard castle is the hub for the mythological creatures I collect on their behalf. I recently added a knight and unicorn to the mix, discovered in an Easton toy store. I meditate on the hill where I watered this week by linking 🔗 two hoses.

I was standing up there, seeing the ivy surrounding the clearing, the ivy caked with city dirt, fallen oak leaves and now-useless cobwebs. I wished for a hose long enough to reach. I’ve never watered up here. Never thought about it. Oh — wait. I have two hoses of the same make and this will be fun. Screw them together and the boys help me snake the now-one very long hose up the hill. The ivy loves it and I do too, feeling big movement. I feel very helpful.

Like I clean in a loop inside, through the front half of the house and then around back, I water in a loop outside, going from the hill all the way behind the garage for also the very first time. I went nuts, watering the undersides of the trees, brushing the backs of their teeth.

A storm blew through the farm after I left. A mini twister came down the road and spun onto the land, taking out electrical poles I'd scheduled to bring down, and uprooting a 3/4 dead maple that needed to go. The twister nearly misses the farmhouse, tossing a trunk onto her roof.

While I cannot clear the debris myself, I can rinse the dirty-dry patches that I'd never considered dealing with before they ask me for some TLC.

boys > farm > boys < home < boys

listen

hill DIRT
behind the garage dirt
PILES of the paperwork spread across the office floor
debris scattered around the farm

Jung asks his soul what the wait is about
and she scoffs at his expectation for ripeness yesterday.

🍌 LOW HANGING FRUIT 

R0 is 10

my first baby is ten today

his word for his new year is Practice

 he's super into bass fishing, baseball & family time

double digits honey

eight

The most It you can be is yourself. This is where to allow It more than push It. Push the obstacles out of your way to create a space of allowance.

I hear myself speaking with my farmer and I don't like how I'm sounding. Instead of lying when I don't know something, I'll learn it. The hesitation to know here annoys me even as it tracks. I'm applying my inside work to the outside. A raw land long game demands practiced patience, and my nothing budget is what's made It a game.  2 Win: kick @ least 1 bucket down the road every single day

Farm leases are often verbal. Together we uncover 3 disparate events that occurred in 1983: Bobby got married, Uncle Robert planted two forests in the middle of tillable land, and Meghan was born 40 miles east. Bobby stresses that he’s been faithful for 38 years. I’m not sure if that’s about his doppelgänger, or loyalty in general — even though he’s planted the 2.7 acre llama pen before getting my go-ahead.

My hungry * horny * sweaty * human body is my husband. My soul and her mission are my wife. I love my wife, and she scares me. I feel like wives are supposed to be good-scary.

Being my woman's man makes me their daddy, a 38-year-old father of two. Dadi's on a business trip, which means he'll bring home presents, if you're good to mommy.

Taking Turns: oscillating rows of harvested winter wheat and flowering soybeans. Don't step on the baby edamame. Ripen past the salty mommy. Hard shells are pressed for oil and the scraps turn to chicken feed. Eat your inner mommy to become your outside daddy. Quickly now ! America really hates her mothers.

Example: When I have to pump gas at 5am and it’s still dark, I know I’m the only daddy who scopes the scene before getting out of my truck. The awareness of getting hurt just is. Keep your hurt. It's yours to deal with.

Fun Fact: Single mothers can smell one another in pheromonal connectivity. I met 5 on this trip and all but Melissa are further down the path, if we score by the age of the children.

☑ This is It

☑ You’re doing It

☑ It’s also called life

MINECRAFT ART BY ROGAN

?

what peppers your path

?

 

𓁹
came home to a B&W feather on my front steps

kid u not

seven

The word landlord will go by the wayside.

That energy is already on the way out. 

☑ primary bedroom
☑ primary bathroom

You must live like yourself because life is happening now.

I sleep with my pajama shirt unbuttoned in one move closer to being a daddy.
A dadi.

I wake to sleepy talk through a freedom declaration before taking a cup of coffee to the muggy front porch of my childhood.

A different front porch with the same summer morning weather.

No yelling here that I've yet heard.

Get up anytime you like.

Panting, grunting, moaning.

Couples making moves through the thin walls of the bed & breakfast.

This muggy is my sweet spot.

Sweaty from being still.

Yesterday, I lay in the cedar grove for hours. Set up shop set on a sheet printed with suns and moons. My red rental Wrangler is parked nearby with windows down, serving mobile commissary:

☑ electrolytes 
☑ bug spray 
☑ baby wipes 
☑ Jung
☑ curry scented incense

I'm dozy when a red Wrangler parks at the high point startling me. It's the guy kombucha grifter come to yell and shake his braided beard, full of bogus claims. Some of us always wait for the yell. But the truck has charm and out steps a different character. Farmer Bobby more like Bill Clinton than I remember. There are campy Darth Vader helmets in place of his 1989 Jeep's e's.

I'd like to see a vast carpet of wildflowers partnered with a honeybee commune. "Cutting garden" is a home phrase I never quite shake. The paths need fresh stone in a different color. He'd soon like to see an old fence brought down to plant a few more rows of beans. The bushes growing into the fenceline are fast becoming tree-like and crowding the back road. We already know that the tree-trees need help, even if they're not 'supposed' to be here — hence all the bunnies, and a magnificent large doe.

The farmer's next-door neighbor is Luke, doing the demo of the old tenant house, allegedly burned down after some story about blow jobs in lieu of rent going awry. How? Turkey buzzards have been roosting in the collapsed eaves. Apparently they really stink, as in smell fowl. Someone told me that if you hit one with your car, they automatically vomit, and the acid in their stomach eats through bones so eats through the paint of your dented bumper. I cannot learn enough. Endless knowledge when not worried all the time about where the baseball gear's been lost now. Just keep it all in one spot. Get some old-school lockers and anchor them to a wall in your basement addition. Spray paint them or leave the tarnish, like that industrial unit we put in the apartment.

Dragonflies follow me when I walk the farm. They followed me because my boots kick up little bugs. Disruption feeds serendipity. People whose lives work well tend to keep this to themselves while others get distracted in reaction, unseeing what lies ahead. If you want, push your way to the front of change and avow no harm done to the back of the line.

☑ Rearrange

   ★

I'm writing, but I'm right here with you. 

Current worlds making room for new worlds.