dominicvineoftheowls (dominicvine) wrote,

so much (for that) there

so much (for that) there
Tuesday night I passed out on the way home (by nearly 4am)
And I haven't been home since then:
a flaw in my plans
(to write on the way home...)

it's friday morning now...
no, 3:42pm
I slept on soho
after sleeping in Brooklyn
a cat nap in gerald's room
then Hot Nude Yoga
which was not terrible as I'd feared
but how would I have done if I'd not had a hot bellied muscle-bear-man there?
the whole practice was not psuedo sexual as if feared
though there was one man who was constantly looking at me with a tangible gaze...
and yeah: the partner yoga was lovely
and I must admit
reminded me of what I always forget:
heart-centered... generating love and compassion and gratitude...
I always do it in theory better than practice
but practicing with a partner in yoga:
it's an asset

I feel like I wish I could practice yoga every day
maybe that's what I'm moving towards

thus morning
before heading to Brooklyn
I talked with my brother
telling him what he wanted to hear
but in accord with myself
that, of course he needs no healer
but in tgat order
he must train himself to fully care for himself
-he asked me to cone out there and help
as well as spend time with Connor
and I love the suggestion
though I aim to stay home this year
not leave
the challenge: not leave

of course
I took the keys to my friend's flat in the village to house sit for him there next week
is that a vacation?
a perspective shift?
I fantasize about living in a few different areas of the city this year
just part of my New York project
to feel other neighborhoods

it's too easy to let things slip out of my hands
the string grip of the relaxed hand is what I'm wanting
practice, practice

I'm thinking again of all the things I want to write
this story taking shape
when I remember what happened last year with Ægypt nipping my inspiation in the bud by being not only my exact idea, but better executed than I'd imagined and about someone coming up with that idea and finding it already written
yet unfinished

of course that story is unfinished
how can infinite loose threads ever be tied up?

this one is different
but reaches back very far and wide inside of myself
I'm starting it in the middle
it might just be notes
we'll see where it goes


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