Welcome!

As of this afternoon, for the first time in my adult life, I have laundry in my home. All through college and grad school I relied on public machines, downstairs or around the corner, but never at home. I’ve hauled sacks of clothing in the snow and in the drippy heat of New York in August. I’ve watched front loaders spin, I’ve developped routines. Getting a mobile made it easier, but no matter how much I made the best of it:SuperNaturale Alt Guide: Laundry it was never by choice. Much of the way I’ve dressed for years was predicated upon my lack of laundry facilities. Instead of wearing favorites over and over, I never wore the same outfit twice. I couldn’t really. Sometimes I would go for long long stretches without wearing anything “favorite” because I knew as soon as I did I wouldn’t get to again before I went to the laundrette. Which I did as infrequently as possible. (see the sidebar in the article if you’re in the same situation) On a daily basis, it kept me from living in the present, from choosing what I wanted right then and there, always thinking about the future. Or, rather, it didn’t do anything, but instead illuminated a part of my character that I don’t like. That safe, careful person that thinks about the future in a way that mutes the present. I fight against that in me, but it’s a struggle.

So having the laundry downstairs is a great thing. When all the externals are removed, all I’m left with is myself. And then change is possible. Change is good.

Way way back in 2002, I travelled to Joshua Tree to interview Andrea Zittel. One version of the interview was published in Ten by Ten, the other is finally available here:
SuperNaturale Andrea Zittel Interview
She is so totally rad.

There aren’t many cloudy days out here, but even when there are I’ve still got sunshine. I seem to bounce. I wish I could take it back east, but I’m not sure it travels. It will, but maybe not just yet. The world seems wider, wilder and more open. The frontier thing. It’s not so much a myth as a narrative, everything I thought made Los Angeles untouchable turned out to be exactly what I needed. I don’t think this city is forever, but my heart is so happy to be here.

There are those I miss terribly. Horribly.

If you are in New York, be sure to check out Art 101, Ellen’s super great gallery. and if you aren’t, check out the website.

And if you want to see where I live, my door is on the left.

From Dakota: A spiritual geography:

“Maybe the desert wisdom of the Dakotas can teach us to love anyway, to love what is dying, in the face of death, and not pretend that things are other than they are. The irony and wonder of all this is that it is the desert’s grimness, its stillness and isolation, that brings us back to love. Here we discover the paradox of hte contemplative life, that the desert of solitude can be the school where we learn to love others.”

On the advise of a male friend, I listened to the audio book of “He’s Just Not That Into You". It was surprisingly helpful. I wanted to recommend it not only to my female friends, but to many of the men in my life. I especially like the “this is what it should look like” parts–what it looks like when someone is in love with you and wants to share your life. Too often I want to believe it is just so complicated, but it just isn’t so. It’s all rather simple. If someone wants to be with you, they show up and let you know that. Simple. How embarrassing I had to relearn that from a cheesy bestseller.