natural adaptations

this is me recounting an event that i witnessed

I was riding my bike home, salt crusted and sunbaked, from a full day at work
and after jeff had left me riding up the hill, i decided to walk.
I walk my bike up this steep hill almost everyday, aside from a moments rest it gives me time to look at a part of my world that i usually narrow-mindedly speed past.
And on this day I realized why.

I started with a fawn
and this grazing fawn balanced some how on spindled legs on an almost impossible slant
I watched the fawn,
in earnest, I stopped walking, stood against my bike and watched this fawn.
and as the sweat began to find its resting place my shirt, seeping in and cooling me down, my eyes adjusted to find nearby another fawn.
they stepped a cautious tango through the tangle and the slope
bending their necks and bowing to seek out sustinance, then heads rising to reveal their guarded eyes.

still focused only on their side of the hill, in their organic diorama, which in all respects the cosmos must have plopped me in front of it for an unknown reason
came the mother
she was so much closer, but she came to me last
her tan hide mocked the thick tree trunks
she was lower and could reach for food at her own eye level

this is when i started to really watch
i saw the mothers strong coat able to fit nicely into the shade
she could afford to go lower, but she still watched her children after each bite
and the spots of a fawn mirror the sunlight hitting the redwood needles through the filter of the tall canopy
they creep through the sunlit and jump through the dark

the deer weave in and out of my vision
and that is when i realized its near perfection
its simple skin had saved it
this is why it survived

as the deer moved after awhile, so did i
the clicking of my bike as i walked it was not an example of stealthness though
they hopped, or at least the fawns hopped, to the saftey above quickly
as a well worn instinct they scattered and slanted out of the sun
the mother found trees to move slowly behind before breaking out into a gallop
i was content

i feel that things were learned

fortune cookies

"Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes."

"No problem leaves you where you found it."

"Knowledge and not doing are equal to not knowing at all."

"Your life does not get better by chance, it gets better by change."

"Only she who attempts the absurd can achieve the impossible."

spices

-picking up pennies
-helping my mom
-cooking for friends
-organizing my room (throwing out things i do not need, simplifying)
-making lists
-writing stories in my head
-laughing at my own jokes
-playing practical jokes
-the magnetic fields
-talking to my dogs
-kissing my dogs
-making friends (on paper and in real life)
-sand in my ears
-sandwiches
-blowing bubbles (underwater and with soap)

full blown, pre-meditated post coming soon!

i am glad we are able to share this joy

I have been in a funk. Without school or a job to fill my days, it has been hard for me to find a sense of purpose. WIthout a sense of purpose, I feel useless and my days lose their meaning. I tried to fill my days with the little hobbies that keep me happy but it was hard to connect them all to a bigger purpose or sense of duty. One of the biggest problems was most of the days I was by myself, patiently and eventually impatiently waiting for my friends to get out of school, finish their finals or finish their shift at work. Being with someone who truly cares for you and vice versa makes all the difference; even the silliest of conversations or the most menial of chores is filled with a warmth and a familiarity when you are able to share it with someone who knows you. Not everyday and every meeting has to be filled with monumental, earth-shattering discoveries and adventures. Simply being aware of someone's presence physically and emotionally is really all you need. Sure, you can complain about how uneventful your night was, sitting at the same coffee shop as always, drinking the same hot tea. But at least you are given the chance to sit down and enjoy each other's company, share stories and share a laugh. I really enjoy the phrase "to share a laugh". To be able to split joy, and its physical appearance (laughter) with another person, is a really meaningful and fulfilling opportunity.

attention readers

If you want to be happy, do not read Ernest Hemingway.

Don't Worry About Me Anymore

I am on my way Jennifer Christine Williams.

egbok

Songs for the moment

Most of the time I like to think of sining this to a particular point on my life,not really a person but a situation. Or I think of a good time singing this to me, if that makes sense.




and this is just beautiful.

Caught up in things, you know?

It is the end of the school year for many people out there. As for me, it is the closing of my first year of college. It is an end to the tumultuous existence that I call on campus living. And so, with the added hubbub of final papers and exams, I must also move out of my small space that I have somehow crammed so many knick-knacs into. This process results in a great deal of trash, not just from me, but from all who are going through a similar situation as you could guess. And now to the point, which is that while throwing out some assorted garbage and recyclables I stumbled upon a calender.

This calender

Happiness by Robert Doisneau


he is famous for his black and white Parisian street scenes, catching the innocent joy of precocious children, or the love and humor of the common man and woman.

I wanted to share this story not only because I enjoy the calender I know own, but because of how I came across such lovely images. I stopped being caught up in my own waste, and I found something lovely. I kindly advise you to sometime do the same

strangers

One of my last days in San Francisco, I was reading in the sun at Dolores Park. A group of young people walked by, announcing to everyone at the top of their lungs that a water balloon war would commence in half an hour. Anyone brave enough was welcome to join. If you know me, you know I am incredibly shy. I knew this was something I did not want to miss, however, and I stowed my book away in my purse and quickly walked up the hill towards their headquarters. I may never see these people again, but my afternoon was made that much more interesting just because I was willing to break free of my shell and get soaked with total strangers. I documented the event with my oktomat action camera:

yeah, what patrick said

"In going where you have to go, and doing what you have to see, you dull and blunt the instrument you write with. But I would rather have it bent and dull and know I had to put it on the grindstone again and hammer it into shape and put a whetstone to it, and know that I had something to write about, than to have it bright and shining and nothing to say, or smooth and well-oiled in the closet, but unused."
-Ernest Hemingway

So don't let the bruises, bumps, scrapes and broken hearts get in your way.

TO MY BEST FRIEND IN THE UNIVERSE ON HIS BIRTHDAY

"symmetry"
thank you for being my best friend. for calling me to tell me you punched a bus. for lifting my spirits. for sharing your world view with me. for cooking me quesadillas. for giving me piggy back rides. for being my brother. for sharing your secrets. for understanding and encouraging me. for laughing at me and for listening to me. for your weird, planned laughs. for your green shoes. for your obsession with soul music and strong female characters. for saying poop all of the time. if there were best friend marriage, i would ask you to be my best friend husband, but there is no such thing, so you are just my best friend patrick. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! THANK YOU KAREN AND TOM GILL FOR FUSING YOUR CELLS TO CREATE PATRICK GILL 19 YEARS AND 9 MONTHS AGO TODAY!

I don't want to be careful, I want to feel alive.

Ruth Fisher
I will always love Ruth Fisher



I am watching the first two seasons of Six Feet Under




call me if you have my number
we can watch it together

ITS RAINING CANDY

I really enjoy pinata's. They are just so childish, and yet appropriate for any age. Perhaps it is because they allow me to relive tension in a colorful fashion. Or maybe because it is one of the only times I like being fooled, you know with a blind fold and the dizzying spins. And there is always a surprise waiting inside.

Glass man

Recently I have felt a sort of empathy to, more in some ways an intrigue and fascination with, the character of the Glass Man in Amelie. He waits, waits for events to come to him, as he perfects one moment that he has seen so many times before. But it never really is the same moment, little anomalies show themselves, so really the original painting is just a template that is to be built off of. I feel like I have been stewing recently. I do leave my room, but much of my time is spent in reflection ,wherever I am. I like the Glass Man. I do believe change could benefit this man's life, but ultimately I am enraptured by the fact that he can dilate a moment, freeze it and send so much time exploring the complexities of it.

i hope you arent afraid of heights, patrick james gill

Patrick's list of things

here are my little I can find joy in now:

- Swedish fish
- laying down for extend periods of time
- keeping a small flower in a glass of water
- the moment after talking things out with people
- noise canceling headphones
- copious amounts of water, in my belly or expanding in front of me
- the way my hand wraps around my cracked yellow mug
- cracking my knuckles and back
- David Sedaris' commentary on life
- tofu
- the smell of tomato sauce

ill make it up to you

the last few posts have been slight downers. like, hey, life can suck and you are gonna die but get over it and be happy kind of downers. lets practice those lists again, you know, of stuff that makes you happy. here is what has been making me happy:

-carrot juice
-grinding coffee beans at the grocery store (the smell and the sight)
-how hoarse my voice gets after recording humming onto garageband
-riding my bike (downhill)
-organizing
-meeting new people
-prank phone calls
-remembering to take my vitamins
-my soap from trader joes that smells like honey and oats
-bodey the dog
-what a terrible jogging partner my dog, pukka, is
-what a fantastic cuddler my dog, pukka, is
-practical jokes
-the bruises on my legs from sledding down cardboard hill
-finding straw in my underwear from sledding down cardboard hill

lovey dovey mix

this lovely mix cd is going out to kim, who requested it via myspace.

myspace.com/thebigblanket
add us!

if you want a copy, or another mix cd, or a penpal, or want to hear a story, or want me to send you some stickers, or a drawing, just email us!

interiors

I sure seem to post a lot about movies. Maybe it's just because this is right after my thoughts on "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly". These movies just make me think, especially about this big things like life, death and the happiness we are all grasping for in between. I will probably write more about other aspects of this film in the future, but here is the first theme that really got me going.



For some background information, this was Woody Allen's (praise him) first drama. He is known for his romantic comedies, such as Annie Hall, but he is really capable of capturing raw human emotion, human relationships and especially human drama. It's like, he draws you into this normal situation involving people you would see anywhere, there is nothing different about them at all except you can relate to them. Woody will tuck in the most beautifully phrased dialogue and narrative into lonely taxi rides or walks in Central Park. And if you really pay attention, the visuals usually mirror the meaning he is trying to send.
The scene that really dug into me started with Diane Keaton staring out of the window in her Connecticut home. The camera focuses on the dead tree branches, criss-crossing each other at sharp angles and harshly contrasted with the white snow. All of the colors, inside and out, are muted, bland and stark. She begins to sweat and walks downstairs to talk to her husband, stating:

"I just experienced the strangest sensation... It was as if I had a sudden.. clear vision where everything seemed sort of awful, and predatory. It was like, it was like I was here and the world was out there and I couldn't bring us together... I suddenly became hyper aware of my heart beating and I began to imagine that... I could feel the blood sort of coursing through my veins and my hands and in the back of my neck, ohh. I felt precarious, it was like I was a machine that was functioning but I could just conk out at any second..."

I felt that this was one of the main, although lesser, themes of the movie. The fragility of life, the realization of mortality and so on and so forth. Have you ever just stopped, listening to your breathing, stared and your hands and tried to wrap your mind around the fact that you are alive? It is uplifting and absolutely terrifying at the same time, because with life inevitably comes death. Without death, however, life would not be so beautiful. It is carefully balanced and incredibly fragile. Every moment is unique and can never be recreated. What you choose to do with your time is that much more fantastic, simply because that is what you chose to do with your incredibly limited time.

"I'll tell you a secret. Something they don't teach you in your temple. The gods envy us. They envy us because we're moral, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again." (from a movie that my roommate watched, not sure which one, but helps drive home the point I am trying to make).

So many people strive for a sense of immortality, especially through notoriety and fame. But the stress that ensues this futile searches makes it pointless. To live life fully, live it for the sake of living it. You are only given so much time, so do not waste it on things that do not bring you joy. This even includes the little things. A few days ago I decided to give up reading this Mark Twain book because honestly I found it boring. I thought to myself, "If I die tomorrow, I would have regretted putting so much time and energy into trying to read this long, boring book." So I picked up Hemingway's short stories, which so far have all ended in violent deaths. Interesting coincidence, but beside the point.

So, if there is something that is giving you trouble, do something about it. Reconcile your differences, shed yourself of your worries and simply do what you want to do. After the death of my friend a few months ago, it hit me that life is not a movie. What I mean is, there is no set beginning, middle and end. It all merges together a bit awkwardly, there is no clear portrayal of good and evil, not distinct problem and solution followed by a vignette and credits. Despite your plans, life often cuts you off, as if in the middle of a sentence. You think you have all the time in the world to get out what needs to be said when all of a sudden Death himself adds a period where a comma should be.



Sure, one day you will die and no offense, you will probably be forgotten. But by then you will be dead and you won't care much. So just get the most of it while you can, and, however grim it might sound, keeping the idea of death nearby is a good reminder.