My butt hurts. Hour two in the cyber approaches and I am torn between working on the monthly update and researching the next steps I want to take in my life. I keep thinking about food and cooking and how food connects all of us.

Demetrius

the shadow of a chiltoma
on a handmade ceramic pot
holding an unkown plant

reminds me that beauty
is undiscovered
invisible
and unseen
because
we are
not
looking.

Cold air, conditioned, processed and blown in a rotating manner across the crowds at the ciber and yes, it is crowded.

Trying to write a letter to the President of Cornell University, an attempt to create something between him and us. But what do we want? Money, support, community. Who are we? Writers, Addicts, Communicators. Most importantly, why? Why are we doing what we are doing? This is the answer I am looking for. Why spend hours facing a computer screen? Lines of code, letters and numbers, black and white, all passing me and numbing me to the day just outside those two glass doors. I sit within inches of warmth and sunshine, of making footprints in the dusty roads or having conversations with new folk and shaking out all that tension riding in my body right now.

Tension, the prison. You feel it, touch it and watch how it manages your life and affects the lives of everyone around you. I feel it right now. Coming from over here or from over there, from that person whom I know or from a stranger I've never met. What I want is to take off that tension like I take off my work clothes and slip into a t-shirt and cut-off shorts. To relieve myself of the image, the feeling of this tension and to gift myself the chance to just sit, think, breathe, process, ponder and wonder about everything I am doing, the myriad of reasons that push me towards the unopened closet of possibilities that approach me.

Somedays I'd relish the chance to put it all down and just think it all out. Or just spill it all out, onto the ground or into your ear, or your lap. Somedays it is like walking through water, making yourself move forward cause you know that stagnancy kills, picking up and putting down clues, memories, images, dreams, even desires from what was. The same way you pick up and put down millions of everyday things. Its just not easy to do and I never thought I'd be doing it.