Love Skool

This is my new yoga home. Laughing Lotus on West 19th between 5th & 6th. A beautiful, bright, vibrant practice space constantly occupied by big hearts, sweet beats, and declarations of love. I just completed my first weekend of fall teacher training with the Love Skool, which means I am sore, tired, and ecstatic. My teachers Dana, Sheri and Ali are highly skilled, dynamic teachers. My mentor is wonderful. My mentor group is incredible. My study buddy is so lovely.  

I believe my engagement in this program has significantly altered my approach to New York City in general. Instead of being totally stressed out and overwhelmed, I'm loving the constant flow of people and energy. This place is such an (im)perfect microcosm of the world: for every kind face there is a scowl; for every give there is a take; for every frantic movement there is a much needed, much appreciated moment of stillness and quiet. I am grateful to my friends for giving me their couches, beds and showers. My birthday weekend was all about yoga and loved ones. I went to the Brooklyn Book Festival and brunch with my dear friend Teff, then hopped over to the Lotus for a 5 hour training session with the otherworldly Dana, after which I headed back into Brooklyn and hunkered down in south Park Slope for a cozy little birthday celebration with Noelle, Camila and Josh. I slept soundly. I have a feeling I will be sleeping soundly for at least the next 13 weeks - the Lotus flow is an exalted, wild, purifying, exhausting beast, and I'm deep down in its belly.

24 Things for my 24th Year

I turn twenty-three in a half hour. The last year of my life has been strange and funny and difficult and beautifully tumultuous. I lived in a new city on a new coast, I made new friends, I felt new kinds of joy and new kinds of pain, and I learned a great deal from a few terrific people. Now I'm back in New York, and it feels like anything could happen at any moment. I've begun studying for my 200 hour teaching certification at Laughing Lotus, a super fabulous yoga center in Chelsea. And I'm playing with the idea of moving into Brooklyn. I'm listening to men shout in the streets of Crown Heights and I'm feeling happy.

I have drawn up a list for my 24th year.

You can only loosely plan. You can have a rough idea of what you'd like your life to look like, but at this point, so many things will inevitably shift and change and be gained or lost. There's no telling how it will all unfold, so it's best to be open and curious, at least in my opinion. But these are the 24 people/places/things that I would like to encounter in the next twelve months. 

1. New England/Canada road trip

2. Submit manuscripts 

3. Intern at literary magazine
4. Plan an extended trip abroad: Trans Siberian railway/India
5. Write an analytical paper

6. Become a certified yoga instructor
7. Preserve/can/pickle various vegetables & fruits

8. Write a screenplay
9. Write a collection of short fiction/poetry

10. Conduct an extensive interview project

11. Make a short film (or two)

12. Make a book

13. Take a solo hike in the mountains

14. Learn how to wear lipstick

15. Learn how to use a letterpress

16. Travel by bicycle as much as possible

17. Volunteer on a farm/urban garden

18. Learn how to give a good massage

19. Hold a successful, formal dinner party

20. Begin to pay off student loans

21. Thoroughly research M.F.A. programs in California, New York, Texas, Rhode Island, and Georgia

22. Conceptualize & execute a photography project

23. Read at least two more volumes of In Search of Lost Time

24. Nurture existing friendships/cultivate new friendships

Words I Say Too Often: A Work in Progress

Intense, like, totally, ridiculous, yeah, sure, understand, beautiful, dude, love, are you kidding me, guy, awesome, actually, god, goodness, gosh, funny, baby, kid, child, children, apparently, obvious, organic, Law & Order: SVU, yoga, books, passion, breath, sorry, how, guess, woman, sex, marriage, munchkin, but, darling, kind, food, what, country, and, water, unbelievable, amazing, incredible, true, right, money, will, thought, action, do, why, wish, believe, try, dream, gross, scary, oh man, should, terrible, horrible, crazy.

Love & such.

 

Elephant Journal article #6

 

On my second day home on Long Island, I woke up to a thunderstorm. 

Almost Home

More than halfway across the country, we have encountered brilliant sun, torrential rain, oppressive heat, and the slow burn of a Southern night. This is our trajectory thus far: down the coast of California, through the Redwoods, San Francisco and Los Angeles. (California is now home to a dozen of our friends and neighbors from Hampshire). Then to Las Vegas for one manic night. On to Albuquerque, through the alien landscape of Arizona and New Mexico. Then to Austin, where we saw another gaggle of Hampshire kids. Austin to College Station for two days to visit the lovely and talented Alberto Moreiras and Teresa Vilaros (Camila's parents) in their new house. Alberto now drives an enormous truck and Teresa wears a cowgirl hat with true grace.

After College Station we stopped for lunch in Lake Charles, Louisiana, to visit with our dear poet-rice farmer friend, Rachel Roche. We slept well in New Orleans and fell into the Cafe du Monde tourist trap in the morning (charming but lacks integrity). New Orleans is a place I will return to.

Now in Athens, Georgia, I am entirely stunned by how much I love this state in particular. California and Georgia are the two places that I have fallen in love with on this trip. The South is such a romantic(ized) place, and I'm a little bit frightened and very much enchanted by it. Camila and I have had exceptional hosts in each place we've stayed, but this Camp family (who live in a very beautiful home near Athens) makes me want to stay behind and hunker down and learn about what it's like to live in Georgia and read and write and listen and explore the land here. 

Yet we are still New York-bound, and leave for North Carolina early this afternoon. I feel deliriously glad about everything. 

Morning

by Frank O'Hara

I’ve got to tell you
how I love you always
I think of it on grey
mornings with death
in my mouth the tea
is never hot enough
then and the cigarette
dry the maroon robe
chills me I need you
and look out the window
at the noiseless snow
At night on the dock
the buses glow like
clouds and I am lonely
thinking of flutes
I miss you always
when I go to the beach
the sand is wet with
tears that seem mine
although I never weep
and hold you in my
heart with a very real
humor you’d be proud of
the parking lot is
crowded and I stand
rattling my keys the car
is empty as a bicycle
what are you doing now
where did you eat your
lunch and were there
lots of anchovies it
is difficult to think
of you without me in
the sentence you depress
me when you are alone
Last night the stars
were numerous and today
snow is their calling
card I’ll not be cordial
there is nothing that
distracts me music is
only a crossword puzzle
do you know how it is
when you are the only
passenger if there is a
place further from me
I beg you do not go

Famous People

We saw famous people in Los Angeles, namely Natalie Portman and Linda Cardellini. Both hot ladies. We were stuck in traffic next to Natalie, who was driving her Prius. It looked like she was carrying on a serious conversation with herself, but I'm sure she had an earpiece in. However, it is tempting to believe that, like me, Natalie Portman talks to herself while driving.

We saw Linda Cardellini in the tea room on the top floor of The Museum of Jurassic Technology in Culver City, which is right around the corner from the Temple for Krishna Consciousness, or something like that. This particular five square block area of Los Angeles holds endless fascination for me. 

It's been nearly a week since we arrived in San Francisco, and we are already halfway across the country in College Station, Texas. All is well. 

 

Newness

New blog.
It's about wandering and perpetual wonder and the whole world being one big curiosity with myriad curiosities within it: VECTOGRAPHY

CALIFORNIA

Portland to Redwoods: 6 hours.

Redwoods to Oakland on the Pacific 1/101/128: 12 hours.

The Bay Area is more beautiful than expected. California in general - more beautiful than expected. Yesterday we woke up in the Redwoods National Park. We ate breakfast at the Hiouchi Diner (oatmeal w/ raisins and walnuts for me, one egg, bacon, and one slice Texas Toast french toast for Camila), which was like a Northern Cali version of the Double R Diner in Twin Peaks.

It took us about 12 hours to drive from the Redwoods National Park to Oakland, but we took the scenic route, and it was absolutely stunning. I sent a text message to my boss, Arianne, about how spectacular the Redwoods are, and she replied, Nothing like trees older than Jesus to help you stop worrying about your career. Truer words. 

My aspiration is to treat life like a big giant road trip: rolling with the punches, taking a good long think before acting, being ready and open, feeling wonder and surprise. It's all just one big adventure.

Yes a heart will always go one step too far.

  

All my thoughts are hairs on a wild, wild boar runnin' slowly down the lilac slope.

Of course I would have an amazing weekend.

I leave Portland in five days, and of course I just had one of the best weekends of the year with friends Chipp and Genevieve. We cooked, we ate, we talked, we laughed, we got tattooed, we went to Mt. Hood for a barbecue, we lolled around in the heat wave, we took a yoga class, we hung out at a bar until last call on a Sunday night. It was stupendous. I feel so grateful for their company, and for Genevieve's good sense and for Chipp's good humor. It makes the idea of leaving a bit more difficult to swallow, but I'm happy there is at least a modicum of resistance and doubt - it means I haven't spent the past year of my life hanging around a place that wasn't worthwhile. 

Portland is totally the greatest city I have ever had the privilege to reside in. Last night we were talking about how we wish all the places we love could be a hop skip and a jump away from each other. If I could rearrange the country, I would bring New England, New York, and Oregon together, but I would let them all maintain their respective characters and climates.

I feel like my heart is hovering over the country with its roots sprawling from coast to coast.