field notes (05/07/2017)

Another adventure to Minneapolis – to the best possible place – Harry Waters Juniors’ place. Fuck yes. The May Day parade was today & a party at Harry’s after. Was too sleepysluggishstoned to do much else but sleep. Had some water – toting coffee with me now. Going to find Jules @ midtown market before Harry’s. A gorgeous artery of blue, vessels of green – system circulating openly under open sky. Bridges are thrilling. I love riding the 21. Many memories of this bus – oddly enough the westward trips to MPLS jump to mind, rather clearly, but I don’t much recall taking the 21 back east. Why? Hm.

Often when Anika was on E. 19th I’d bike there – sometimes bus – sometimes Lyft. Missed her really badly for the first time last night. Not to be a werewolf about it but it seems that direct moonlight on my skin seems to stimulate a nervous response that gets me all sad and sappy, or sweet & sappy, I don’t know. In the ‘miss you’ type of way more than the ‘angry at you’ type of way. Or the moon makes me smile about the situation rather than frown. I dunno. Avoid the moonlight!!!

The 21 also reminds me of her. I’m very much a homebody- most comfortable to be in the regular certitude of my own nest. And Minneapolis is so big – formerly such a rare visit – that outings there were nerve-racking. Still are, I guess. Bus trips, busses missed, etc. On March 9th I bussed to Minneapolis to see Anika, knowing-not-knowing she would probably dump me by surprise. Getting onto the 21 – especially at night – especially in cold – reminds me of that bus trip It calls to memory that westward ride – the little yellow journal. Doodling in it. On that night I was sitting on the left side of the bus, near the front, in one of the disabled seats. I had a short green pen (one that Matthew got me, meant for drawing) and I was aimlessly scribbling numbers and wannabe equations into the journal, hardcover, from Wet Paint. Sensing tectonic plates moving, & a fault line splitting- on one half, knowing it’d work out. The other – denying that it wouldn’t. And between those landmasses – a gulf, which ripped open the next afternoon once I got home. Wow, aren’t I a little pity party today? Enough ruminating & back to the present….Shut up, hippocampus. Hello, parietal lobes.


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