...:: I want to join the orange cohort! ::... 

I love receiving email from my sister Jerri, who is in her second
year at CIIS, working towards a degree in expressive arts therapy.
She writes:

You would LOVE my psychopathology professor. He is
completely irreverent. Tonight, we read scenarios and
then made diagnoses. He requested we read them in
funny accents, then asked for Katherine Hepburn, so I
[complied], and was roundly applauded. Only one other
soul was brave enough to go for it. John read one as
Bob Dylan (John is Irish, so Bob had a bit of a lilt...it was
the best Irish Bob Dylan I've ever heard). I did a second
turn as Blanche Dubois. Mark (the prof) did Peter Lorre.
A good time was had by all.
   He (Mark) does all this with a straight face. Threw the
DSM (Diagnostic & Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders,
a large, rather formidable book) on the floor and jumped
on it to show us not to be afraid of it. He reminds me of
my high school biology teacher Mr. Pirie, who would
lecture standing on the lab sink. As I made my way to
the front of the room, dissection plate in hand, he'd hold
my worm aloft and announced, "Jerri...dinner."
   I'm a sucker for a funny teacher. Make me laugh
and I will learn.

...:: * ::... 

There are times when I cannot get enough of Kate Bush...
her music, her lyrics, images felt between line & chord...
sometimes the hunger to hear a certain song is almost
tangible, like a living, breathing thing caught within the
breast... 

                          * * *

i found a book on how to be invisible
take a pinch of keyhole
and fold yourself up
you cut along the dotted line
you think inside out
and you're invisible

          eye of braille
          hem of anorak
          stem of wallflower
          hair of doormat

i found a book on how to be invisible
on the edge of the labyrinth
under a veil you must never lift
pages you must never turn
in the labyrinth

you stand in front of a million doors
and each one holds a million more
corridors that lead to the world
of the invisible
corridors that twist and turn
corridors that blister and burn

          eye of braille
          hem of anorak
          stem of wallflower
          hair of doormat

          is that the wind from the desert song?
          is that an autumn leaf falling?
          or is that you, walking home?
          is that the wind from the desert song?
          is that an autumn leaf falling?
          or is that you, walking home?
          is that a storm in the swimming pool?

you take a pinch of keyhole
and fold yourself up
you cut along the dotted lines
and think inside out
you jump 'round three times
you jump into the mirror
and you're invisible

how to be invisible, Kate Bush
© 2005 Kate Bush, Noble & Brite

...:: * ::... 

In the past when someone learned that I knit and asked what I
make—"sweaters, hats, vests?"—my standard reply was:  "I knit
like a Mexican works on cars*...I don't actually make anything.
I just knit."
   Their reactions varied, from a non-plussed stare to an uneasy 
grin. Those who knew me well simply nodded in understanding.
   While today I do actually 'make things,' they are never the
products of beautifully intricate, precise patterns...I find the need
to follow rigid instructions difficult. No. Impossible. I've tried, and
have failed repeatedly, never able to stop myself from 'coloring
outside the lines."
   Today, my favorite knitting projects are crazy throws, made from
randomly selected and wildly differing skeins of exotic yarn, string,
twine, whatever catches my eye and is knitable, varying the pattern
on the fly as the spirit moves.
   The results are eclectic, sometimes decidedly peculiar, and not
to everyone's taste...but they are always an accurate reflection of
me, myself and I.


*my sincere apologies to the Mexican community. No insult intended.

* * *


moon nova