TMi

    June 14th would have been Ko Murobushi 's birthday. June 18th will be the 5th anniversary of his death.  He was one of my butoh teachers. Last year I wrote some words for his birthday, but did not publish them at that time. I reworked them now into something better than before; maybe. The words are not adequate, but there they are. Going through my old papers, I found a loose sheet in a notebook with a poem composed by Ko-san.  It was typed in imperfect English so I gave the text some light editing in a way that made sense to me.  Does the dead mind such things?  Does the living?  I can't tell any more.  If you are wondering, the poems do not go together. They are not in dialogue with one another. They just exist in proximity to one another on this page. Like I existed in proximity to Ko-san in New York.  redrum self portrait 2020 original photo: Miro Ito s hared kyphosis i think of you from just two letters k o  smal...

I've been in lockdown for a month. An itch to cross the border comes over me now once in a while, but with about 2000 known cases of the virus in the San Diego county, why would I want to go up there? After all, I could remain south of the border, where there is no accurate count of the spread and everyone is in blissful ignorance to the extent of it. The official numbers seem unreasonably low for the state of Baja. But how will we ever know? Even with the internet you can't find all the news. Or hide it. Whether it's horse hockey or not.  And there is so much of this horse hockey coming at me from all sides. From people who mean well. And people who I thought had better uh- discernment. While I have never parented a child, I feel like this is a small taste of what it's like to be one. You have to sift through everyone else's opinions on how best to take care of life .  It's such a weight of unneeded energies bearing down on a person. Why not smother people in t...

Wednesday I went to Tijuana and then across into San Diego. I didn't exactly know it at the time, but it turns out that was the last time I'll be making the crossing for at least a month. The border will be closed to 'non-essential' travel by midnight Friday- today. It seemed like there were too many people outside even though it was pishing doon off and on all day. And, oh, there is supposed to be this highly contagious, potentially deadly virus going around. It was like folks were furiously trying to pretend nothing different is happening in their little end of the world. The rain has been abundant recently, so at one point the car had to turn around and get on the toll road because of flooding. The border crossing took about 40 minutes. Not a long time, but not that quick either. The wet US roadways buzzed and hissed with drivers also desperately pretending nothing is changed; the pretending was so hardcore that there was a two car smash up on the fre...

About twenty percent of people on the planet have Reynaud's Disease/Syndrome/Phenomenon . The numbers vary depending on what source you cite, but no matter where you look, it is clear that this is not a common ailment. It is, however, something I suffer from . Some people have called it being allergic to the cold. To me, it is more like having a stutter in your arteries. The blood vessels are called on to do something quite ordinary and natural, but they get freaked out and overwhelmed by it and then don't operate properly. When it kicks in, I feel like I become the ambient air temperature. I feel like I wear the flesh of a dead person. It can be harder for me to speak because of the decreased feeling in my face. I noticed this happening when I was a teen. I saw that I was the only one in PhysEd who could not warm up while running track in cooler temperatures. I found out that not everyone's hands turned bright red and hurt afterward. Not everyone's toe...

in all the sparkling hosts that sparkling host-ess cup cake of welcoming sweetest smiling red and velvet lips speaking nothing but welcome warmly crushed by selective perception in idiot wonder watch her sparkler smoke and ashes you learn nothing leering 

Thanks even in the middle of no thanks. These recent cancer episodes in my life have left me mangled, near to breaking point. And I have been trying to put on a brave front and not let on- Let on that I had to see a doctor this month because my entire digestive tract basically stopped. And that it was more complicated than just a little stomachache. Irritable Bowl Syndrome they call it. IBS they call it for short. Huh.  Three stinking, little letters triggered weeks worth of weight loss, poor absorption of nutrients and consequent panic attacks of ridiculous proportion. I am improving finally.  It was interesting to sit there in the doctor's office and hear him use the label of ' Type A personality .' If only he knew what has driven me to the anxiousness that I am certain he could see in my bearing- all over my face. It is also interesting to note that science really does have a pill for everything. It has even concocted one for rhyth...