3.

In this picture I'm about three.

2.

This is a series of old photographs I found stashed away in a drawer full of unused, generic stationery-the kind you get at birthday parties and at Christmas.

That's my youngest aunt on the far left. I have no idea who the other people are.

It's crunch time again. And I have fallen sick. Again. How to write ramble analyse an obscure Robert Creeley poem about parks and pets breaking in two, when all I want to do is curl up in my bed and sleep the fever away.

1.

(Click on the cassette icon on the right to hear (some of) what I'm listening to)

2 a.m.

It has been awhile (again). I have been busy, but the real reason for the quietness was because some fluffy automated machine decided that this was a spam blog and had it shut down for awhile.

This ended Saturday night and it went swimmingly well. It was fascinating enough to sit back in the dim control room and to simply watch. Watch how everything unravels itself, and how differently it unfolds each night.

I want to stop and do nothing. To think about the past week and try to arrange my thoughts and give myself some kind of stability and coherency. But I can't. I have a mock lesson to do and an interview to show up for tomorrow. And everything else lined up for the next few weeks all neatly drawn in my Muji planner.

I want to take time to be with people and just being. Without any need to talk at all- much less about anything substantial or mind-bending. I want to learn how to love and give out of inconvenience and lack. And to read something of my own choosing.

Tonight the rain reminded me of you. And much less of me.


Coffee, 15 minute naps, resumes and wordless music.

The jar really should be saying 'Head' 'Heart' Aid.

The renovators next door are at it again. There's always something to knock, drill, break with a cacophony of multi-decibeled noises. Just yesterday I heard one worker singing a Hindi tune while roofing.

I wish I could tell the world to shut up and leave me be. Otherwise I would just completely sink into my enclave of questionable and trite movies on Astro and a bowl of clam chowder from a can. And nothing will get done.

But I will still have my mindless entertainment and starchy carbs.

So much has happened since.

Been meaning to put something up here but it hasn't been easy. Thunderstorms rolled in twice two days ago just before I could piece a sentence. And the day before that I spent my morning navigating through a pile of emails (if they could make a pile they would). And all the other times in between I got distracted by really important stuff like pretty ceramics, reruns of Nigella's Kitchen, this movie, loads of laundry, perhaps an odd essay or two, and all that.

Or this. 120 cupcakes frosted in one night. And today, while the country line up to cast their votes, I'll be painting walls.

Paints, brushes, teenagers and potato cut-outs. Fingers crossed.


Last weekend I walked out. Only to return with a determination to remain. It would have been easier to leave, but after that night something changed. Hezekiah might have something to do with it.

It was one of those things which make you want to choose ignorance and sit still in hope that it'll blow away or walk past you. But before I even stepped out of the door that day He already gave me my answer; and gave me time to make that answer mine.

I'm home. And that's where I choose to be now. Even if it does not welcome me like I would like it to. I will wash all my dirty cups every morning without delay, and clean my toilet religiously if that is what it takes.


My kidney is still intact and I didn't have to trade it in to raise the money for the exchange trip because a group of people who have absolutely bleeping lost their minds gathered 3/4 of what I needed while trying terribly hard to keep it a secret. And on the last day an anonymous person handed over an envelope with the remaining quarter.

3065/3000.

Thank you.

Thank you for giving. But even more, thank you for your love. For believing in me (and there I was making contingency plan A, B, X to get loans and how to repay them) and for being the Church. Thank you for holding my dreams with me, and at the glad risk of sounding cheesy- I love you. I love You.

He knows what you really need. When you lack, He will pour it out to you in many more folds.

Been occupied rehearsing for our latest project, a somewhat murder-mystery play complete with butler and singing villains. Here for the teaser and here for the video trailer.