More RAM.

I walked through this day filled with the rhythms of James Joyce's words. I sat in a pub with a slightly chilly Spring breeze at my back. Everything was slightly surreal and it all glowed a golden hue beneath the slowly setting sun. It's hard to focus on putting inner thoughts into writing when everything around you is in the midst of a shift. The ground beneath your feet is not solid and the words come shakily as well. 

The future is unknown but I suppose no more than normal. There is always the unknown, the unknown is just getting a little bit bigger. And we are traveling across a great expanse of it. I always think about what stories you will tell when the thing you are looking forward to actually happens. What will happen and how it will be articulated. 

I think that once I feel slightly more settled there will be a torrent of words which will pour from my lips and fingers and bleed on pages and pages of paper and take up bytes and bytes of space on computers. I might need to get more ram. 

Tsunami Wave Trains.

I have been dreaming about tidal waves and bridges crashing down, falling to bits into the ocean. Last night I dreamed that I was pleasantly sitting and reading a book, leaning against a tree when I realized that there were ants all over my head and I shook it out and tried to get them all out. There were trees and buses strewn around the sky by tidal waves; there was running and hiding and fighting some weird monsters. 

I don't know what any of it means, really. Perhaps a paranoia of the unknown, of not being good enough, of not changing enough. But, I don't feel scared, really. Only sometimes. And mostly I feel scared for the people I am leaving behind. Also nervous that I will not change enough, not change the way that I would like to. I have a very clear vision of the ways in which I wish to change and I feel silly writing it all out because I have before and then I didn't do it. But, I suppose in that situation there were extenuating circumstances. 

I think that working to grow fruits and vegetables and having the chance to begin anew, a new city, a new house, new people to meet and know. I would like to be less judgmental or at least less forward about my opinions. I will read far far more and exercise on my trampoline. I will dig in the dirt and pull out radishes and I will reach into the trees and pluck out figs. I will miss people. 

A Peach Tree.

There is some difficulty to beginning again. But at the same time it has an exciting presence about it. With something like a personal blog it's hard to get back into the rhythm of writing especially when the audience is so vague. It has been a bit of time since I have really written and much much longer since I have written on this blog. Everything lately is divided up into small parts. I have to put everything into boxes and yet again shuffle through the bog of what I own to divide it between what I need and what is trash. There are many things that I don't need but they remind me of something or they make me smile to look at them. I am going to have to downsize my plastic animal collection and retire the majority of my little friends. With the exception of my goats, ibyx, ram, and meerkats. Oh, and my sperm whale. They shall be decorative pieces; the rest shall rest. 

It's interesting to move and I am glad and nervous at the same time. There are, obviously, many people who I regret to leave behind. Many people with whom I would like to spend more time and get to know better. But, I believe at the same time there are people, people I don't know, waiting to be met. People who will change many things. Although, I guess that is always true if you let it be. 

I am both coming and going. I am leaving a long known comfort for something new and foreign and a bit frightening. And I will trek the country with cats in tow to do so. I will drive a large truck and drag all my things behind me. My fear of wrecking and killing my cats is palpable. My fear of driving off an embankment somewhere in Utah is chilling and constant. At the same time I cannot wait to fill the back of the truck with boxes of my things and set off into the distance toward some undiscovered future which will likely resemble the past in many ways but also will be new and different and I will be able to bounce on a trampoline all of the day long. I will get a trampoline as soon as I arrive. And I will bounce on it and it will be most lovely. How I have longed for a trampoline. Since I was a wee lass. 

The night grows old and I must wake early for to make the market despite the rain which I fear will cause much trouble with the produce. Soon, I will venture to my own back yard for radishes and tomatoes and peaches and oh how I would love a peach tree.