OneHundred Days 2010

100 Days 2010.100 The End

2010-08-28T21:36:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/510

The End

The film snapped to an end and the writer was sad. She agreed with the filmmaker,the answer was simple, that's not to say the project lacked complexity, but the idea behind it was simple. It was about her, you, everyone. She simultaneously understood yet was perplexed. If it was all about her, what did it all mean? She supposed for her it meant taking back up the torch of writing she had abandoned so long ago and using it to light new flames of photography and film. Some works burned bright like fireworks against a cloudless sky while others snuffed out like a campfire left unattended overnight. No matter whether the pieces shined or burned out however, they were, in fact, all about her and each was precious and deeply held like 100 little children gathered in her apron and held close yet she had also let go of the apron and sent all the fragments of her heart, soul, and spirit into the world to be read, judged, or ignored. She started the journey not believing in herself or her ability to make it to the end and for a while it really seemed as though she wouldn't be able to make it through to the end but with some encouragement from some beautiful souls and poets and an internal drive to change the narrative of her old life (She never follows through on anything) she did it. Today she is writing her final piece for the 100 Days 2010 project and tears of happiness and grief are streaming down her cheeks as she does it.

Had she achieved the goal she set out for herself? Had she found the artist within by looking to inspiration without? Gun to her head she would answer yes. Writing her final piece she knew in the depths of her soul she would rather photograph the beauty in urban decay ,write a poem about the death of her father, or make a movie starring her beautiful niece than submit another financial statement. Did that make her an artist? Earlier she called out one of those beautiful, encouraging souls to stop hiding behind her self-dismissive label of housewife and embrace her truly fitting fine cloth cloak of poet. Was it time to throw off her own yoke of office manager and begin to skip down one or all of the paths of poet, photographer, or filmmaker? This question is not so simple to answer, but she surely will begin to give it some thought.

Epilogue

I have been inspired by and enjoyed the work of each and every participant in this project but there are some who I owe a special debt of gratitude for their amazing work, inspiration and occasional support. In no particular order I would like to thank and praise John Timmons, Steve Ersinghaus, Susan Ersinghaus, Neha Bawa, Susan Gibb, Jessica Sommers, Maggie Ducharme, and Heather Lochtie.

100 Days 2010.99 The Dream

2010-08-28T11:10:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/508

http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=1085

Jennifer had a habit of falling for men who she knew from jump could not should not or would not fall for her and she feared being asked about this in the interview. Especially since Jennifer knew she would be sitting there by his side, Alfred to his Batman during the day, but in the night... How could Jennifer tell her when she was starting to fall for her too. Jennifer had seen her pictures, she knows she shouldn't have looked but she had to, and they broke her heart. They told a story of a comfortable, weird, happy, lovely life-husband, children, mother, pets, and her as the wife. What she wanted was under both their skin.

If asked about it in the interview she would lie though they both would already know the truth. If they were kind they would accept her lies and move on to the next question, the question of reality. There she had no fear in answering. Jennifer would sit up straight and say"I don't know yet if this is the right path for me but I am willing to travel down it a little further in order to find the answer." She had started down the path for him, and they, by now, would also know that, but now she was traveling it for herself. If they were compassionate they would understand and move on to the next question of windows. There also, Jennifer had no fear in answering. "We see what we want, not what is there or not there when we look through a window." He would nod his head slightly in understanding waiting for her to say more, but she, Jennifer had never met her yet so she had no idea how she would react.

"When I look out the window onto my deck I see a grill covered in a green cloth and two chairs folded up, leaning against the brick wall. I also see two empty flower pots, one large, one small, that from them once grew sweet and fragrant basil that I never used to cook with." That was the objective, descriptive representation of what they would see if they too looked out the sliding glass doors onto her deck. Jennifer continued "But what I also see is failure and potential, disappointment and possibility." There was no need to elaborate on those dichotomous views, her remark about the basil pretty much explained that, and Jennifer was sure they would both understand.

It was then, however, that Jennifer realized while one might perceive this dialogue as an interview, in her mind it was turning into an inquisition and the secrets that churned within her would soon overflow the levees of her mind, there was no blow out preventor that could cap the shame and desire that gushed from the bottom of her soul. It was the damn dream, five years ago and she couldn't shake the guilt associated with the dream even though at the time Jennifer had no idea that she even existed.

That's when Jennifer realized the interview (inquisition?) was over. There was nothing that she could say next that would be perceived in any one's reality to be the proper thing to say. She had two choices: she could tell them about the dream, let the water crush the levee and the well gush freely. But who would be able to clean up that mess? There was no dispersant that could send the pool of pain, passion, lust, and betrayal into meaningless fragments to be swallowed by the world and eventually forgotten. Or Jennifer could calmly stand up, shake their hands, thank them for their time, turn around and walk (run) from the room never looking back.

Maybe, Jennifer thought, there was a third choice. She could still calmly stand up, shake their hands, thank them for their time, and leave but then she could tell someone else: Ruiz, Thomas Cobb, or her friend, the comatose patient still stuck in a blue checked armchair on the shore of Coventry Lake. Then her secret dream would sink like a stone to the bottom of a calm and beautiful lake instead of ravaging a gulf of which she had no concept of the width or depth. So that's what she did, she shook the interviewers' hands and headed out into the peaceful chaos of the sidewalk outside the firm. Someone had dropped their hat on the ground, funny that she had not noticed it on her way in, she picked it up, placed it on her head, and took a cab to the hospital. She placed the hat at the bedside of the comatose patient, sat down and began to confess her dream:

"I once knew a carpenter who told me he had been trapped on a raft at sea. One day he came to my shop. I owned a small shop with an apartment above, I sold fine household items, milled French soaps, hand embossed stationary, and the like. I don't know whether the carpenter came to my shop to see me or the shop but it didn't matter. Perhaps he came to see me or perhaps, being recently widowed, he came in because he knew his wife loved the shop. She had been in on many occasions though I didn't know she was the carpenter's wife. She enjoyed sending hand-written letters and often purchased note cards that were thick and creamy white with delicately embossed patterns. Maybe he was looking for me, maybe he was looking for a sight, a smell, a shadow of his recently deceased wife. He saw me and began to weep. I hadn't seen him in years since he had repaired some broken boards on my deck and I was surprised and happy then concerned to see him weeping next to my display of delicate English bone china tea cups. 'What's the matter?' I asked him. 'My wife passed away and I am all alone now.' That was the end of conversation, no more needed to be said. I embraced him gently then led him up the stairs to at the back of the shop that led to my small apartment above. There wasn't much to it, a galley kitchen where I could have made him a cup of tea, but instead, I led him to the large walnut bed covered with a thick white duvet that covered crisp white linen sheets. We made love, not for the act of love, but for the act of comfort and though he continued to weep throughout, I knew the act of flesh against and into flesh was momentarily distracting (or maybe eyes closed he was reliving) but wrong yet necessary. I wanted him to put his pain in me so I could take it on and take it away from him. This was before I had any loss of my own and could not fathom the futility of this or any other act of distraction in the face of grief and the finality of death."

That was it, it was only a dream but the detail and the sadness and consummation of it stayed with her for weeks and to this day the memory of the dream is faded but the person it opened her up to become is bright, shining, flawed, hopeful, and real. If you looked out your window right now and saw her, she might seem sad yet beautiful, beaten down yet still fighting, alone yet connected, a transparent frame or an intersection of light, the hardscrabble path behind her or a yellow brick road in front of her that she need only open her eyes and begin to walk down.

100 Days 2010.98 The Dress

2010-08-27T17:44:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/506

The Dress

100 Days 2010.97 Perspective #5

2010-08-26T16:53:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/504

Perspective #5

100 Days 2010.96 Stalking

2010-08-25T15:43:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/502

I wish I could say I didn't really think it was stalking but I know it was. It was a habit I learned at a young age from a friend of mine. Every night since she got her driver's license we would get into her parent's giant blue Lincoln we gave the very original nickname of "The Boat" and drove across town, up Willis Street and then a left (or was it a right?) and then a slow drive by of the house of the boy she had a crush on. A boy who she could look at but never touch. I don't know what satisfaction she gained driving slowly by his house, I don't even know if she had a way of knowing whether he was inside or not but night after night, we drove and craned our necks to look in the windows hoping to catch sight of what I'll never know.

100 Days 2010.95 Wounds of Remembering

2010-08-24T20:00:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/500

Wounds of Remembering

Because YOU can't see them doesn't mean they are not there
Because they don't appear as bloody gashes or oozing scars
Interstitial tearing or shining white bone jutting from mealy red
flesh doesn't mean they are not there

My wounds of remembering may be unseen but they are felt
The holes, pits, incorrectly routed circuitry, and misfiring synapses in my brain
Tear apart my heart, suck out my soul, and diminish my spirit
Just because YOU can't see them, doesn't mean they are not there

100 Days 2010.94 Moving

2010-08-23T18:05:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/498

Moving

100 Days 2010.93 Absence

2010-08-22T17:27:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/493

Absence

100 Days 2010.92 Less than Whole

2010-08-21T06:53:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/488
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=177001

How is it that I can move to keep things whole when I myself am less than whole, less than worthy, less than right? When I move in a field does the air move in to fill the space behind me or do I pass through as less than a leaf, less than a molecule, less than an atom? Or does my physical mass trump my shrunken soul, disappearing heart, and dissipating spirit and the air whooshes in behind me and the field wonders why when something so obviously not whole has passed through yet the air tries to make it so. I am less than whole yet when I move I move to make things whole.

100 Days 2010.91 Excerpt

2010-08-20T06:47:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/485

Excerpt 9/27/05

As I shrink out of my clothes I find myself getting rid of some that have very specific memories attached-of course memories of he who now avoids me like the plague. I throw them into the donation bag with only a twinge of sadness and regret as those memories are barely even sepia toned in my mind yet I am having an irrationally difficult time parting with a certain blue skirt. I don't know which would be more painful-throwing it away and therefore throwing away the last shattered vestiges of the whole pathetic situation or keeping it, seeing it, letting the memories haunt me dimly-shadows of ghosts reflected in a window...

100 Days 2010.90 Poetry, Prose, Music

2010-08-19T14:21:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/479

Poetry (Let it Out)

You tell me that you'll be my confessor
With no hope of redemption, I'll be your obsessor

Your strong hands are without desire
Still they melt my frozen flesh of fire

Without contact you penetrate me
My eyes are shut but you make me see

I've never felt this a thousand times before
Without payment, I'd be your whore

It could never have been and yet it must
Without telling lies I have betrayed your trust

What is this pedestal you've built for me
Made of bricks that I could never be

Your confidence in me is unnerving
But my hope for better is worth preserving

My perfect flaws are hidden from view
Without absolution, I keep them from you

Of all your faith, I doubt I am deserving
My road ahead is long and swerving

Prose (Untitled)

I think about just (just) making out with you all the time lately. Not in a general sense, but specifically. I grab your shoulders, suck on your lower lip, flick the tip of my tongue against yours, against your earlobe, against your neck. You close your eyes and I breathe you in and then our mouths are locked together and then...

Slowly and gently at first, then faster as we get the rhythm of it, then harder, more intense until there is no more you, no more me, only kissing. Lips, tongues, saliva-you can't breathe but you can't stop. It could end at any second, but it feels like forever and then...

Music (21 Guns)

100 Days 2010.89 Do You Know What This Is?

2010-08-18T19:23:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/474

Do You Know What This Is?

Tell Me What You See

100 Days 2010.88 What the Comatose Patient Thought

2010-08-17T14:35:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/471
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/420
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=1045
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=993

What the Comatose Patient Thought

"It's interesting" the comatose patient overheard his friend Ruiz say to Thomas Cobb. "What's interesting?" the comatose patient thought as he tried to imagine the stones in his pocket drifting away as if riding a wave or being lifted by a feathered balloon.

"If only there were no more stones in my pocket, I might join in and agree or disagree as to whether the buildings with the painted doors in Mexico City were interesting. " Had the comatose patient ever been to Mexico City? He felt the weight of the stones in his pocket pulling the feathered balloon back down to earth and suddenly he couldn't remember.

Thomas Cobb said" The last time we spoke about these buildings our friend was in a blue checked arm chair on the shore of Coventry Lake." Ruiz, surprised, replied "I don't remember him ever sitting in a blue checked arm chair on the shore of Coventry Lake. Surely we last spoke of the buildings in Mexico City when we were in the desert."

"Yes! Yes!" the comatose patient thought. "We did talk about the painted buildings in Mexico City while I sat in a blue checked arm chair under a cloudy yet blue sky on the shore of Coventry Lake."

"It's interesting." Ruiz said to Thomas Cobb as he reached into his pocket and came up empty. "I brought our friend a rock from the desert to leave at his bedside but it's no longer in my pocket."

100 Days 2010.87 Perspective #4

2010-08-16T12:43:00.000-07:00

PLEASE view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/468

Perspective #4

PLEASE click on the You Tube link and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1l4eY1GtUM

100 Days 2010.86 Proof of Love

2010-08-15T06:17:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/463

Proof of Love

100 Days 2010.85 Conversation

2010-08-14T11:24:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/459

Conversation

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4fywUR4fAQ

100 Days 2010.84 Tell Me

2010-08-13T04:45:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/456

Tell Me

Tell me about the signs.
Why, you refuse to see them.

Tell me about your thoughts.
Why, you refuse to acknowledge them.

Tell me about laughter.
Why, it's been gone for years.

Tell me about the child.
Why, there is no child.

Tell me about the waves.
Why, we'll never walk amongst them.

Tell me about your possessions.
Why, they mean nothing to you.

Tell me about love.
Why, our love is like a fuzzy image flickering black and white and indiscernible from our sadness, anger, grief, indifference, and pain.

100 Days 2010.83 Dance/Depose/Discharge

2010-08-12T05:08:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/453

Dance

Depose

Discharge

100 Days 2010.82 Eating an Elephant

2010-08-11T04:08:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/450

Eating an Elephant

The question is: "How do you eat an elephant?" The answer that was given to me is: "One bite at a time." Obvious answer, I suppose, but less obvious is, where do you bite first and then where do you go from there?

You,dear reader, may ask "Why eat an elephant at all?" The answer is that the elephant is not really an elephant at all. "If it's not an elephant, then what is it?" you may ask. The elephant that is not an elephant is the largest problem you're dealing with and the bite is not really a bite but a step you can take towards solving it.

"So what step do you take first?" you may ask next. I can't answer that for you, dear reader. Only you can know where to bite the elephant first.

100 Days 2010.81 Cultural Divide

2010-08-10T04:51:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/447

Take Out/ Take Away

100 Days 2010.80 Blind Date

2010-08-09T06:07:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/442

Blind Date

100 Days 2010.79 The Balloon

2010-08-08T05:22:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/437

The Balloon

100 Days 2010.78 White Box

2010-08-07T17:22:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/434

White Box

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NS3mIvZKK4U

100 Days 2010.77 Over Time

2010-08-06T13:03:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/431
http://onehundredpoems.wordpress.com/

Over Time

Over time the bright moving light
Of our youth has turned
To a moody blue
Of change and fighting
Against growth

100 Days 2010.76 Signs

2010-08-05T06:27:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/428

Signs

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkys0L_Qca4

100 Days 2010.75 Rex

2010-08-04T04:54:00.000-07:00

Rex

100 Days 2010.74 A/V/C

2010-08-03T05:18:00.000-07:00

A/V/C

100 Days 2010.73 Coventry Sky

2010-08-02T16:54:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/420
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=754
http://inceptionmovie.warnerbros.com/

Coventry Sky

My friend Thomas Cobb told me once that you never remember the beginning of your dreams so if you're sitting some place unfamiliar like on the shore of a lake under a puffy white and light blue sky, stop and ask yourself "How did I get here? If you can't remember how you got there, you are probably dreaming."

"Bullshit" I said. "What if you are in the same place you always are, say a blue-checked armchair just comfortable enough to stay in forever?" Mr. Cobb looked at me quizzically so I continued "If you've always been sitting in the same blue-checked armchair, how are you supposed to remember how you got there?"

"It's impossible" he replied. "You have not always been sitting in a blue-checked armchair because right now you are sitting on the shore of Coventry Lake under a puffy white and light blue sky." He continued "Maybe you are sitting in a blue-checked armchair on the shore Coventry Lake and not where you always sit in that chair."

"Aha, but I am sitting a blue-checked armchair just like I've always been therefore I am not dreaming." I replied as I looked across the lake to see two carpenters floating by on a wooden raft with no discernible paddles. "When I'm dreaming there are trees and fire hydrants and small glass bowls filled with colorful pills. What do you make of that?"

Mr. Cobb shook his head. "You can make a list of any items and they will sound meaningful to someone so I make nothing of that."

100 Days 2010.72 Great Moments in Home Organization

2010-08-02T13:32:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/416

Great Moments in Home Organization

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6z0s0r6dD4

100 Days 2010.71 Portal?

2010-08-01T19:58:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/414

My first drawing-unless you count Pac Man.

Portal?

100 Days 2010.70 Watching

2010-08-01T19:35:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/410

Watching

100 Days 2010.69 Does That Answer Your Question?

2010-08-01T09:59:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/406

Does That Answer Your Question?

100 Days 2010.68 Myopic

2010-08-01T09:58:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/402
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/

Myopic

I used to have a schoolgirl crush on a college professor of mine(now I call it an intellectual crush). I think besides being a college professor, he was also a carpenter in between semesters. At least once during a lecture on "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" he told us a story about having been stuck on a raft with another carpenter. Whether the story was true or not, I'll never know.

One night in 2005 I had a dream about that carpenter that was so powerful, so realistic, so laden with the presence and absence of emotion that the dream stayed with me for days, no weeks. So powerful was the dream that I am wholly convinced the dream caused neural pathways in my brain to shift and allow me to enact behaviors I previously wouldn't have. I hadn't seen the carpenter in years but the mere presence of him in my dream (I have convinced myself) unleashed a tsunami of desire and passion that led me down some dangerous paths.

I blame the dream for so much, just like in freshman year English when I blamed the tragic end of "Romeo and Juliet" on Rosalind. If she hadn't rejected his advances, he never would have been at that party, never met Juliet, so on and so on. In this myopic view I blame the dream, like I blamed Rosalind instead of fate, not the desires and passions which is ridiculous of course, the passions and desires were already there.

Walking back from the pool with my husband (who is definitely not a carpenter) yesterday, I reached for his hand. He rolled his eyes begrudgingly grasped my hand back. "You used to hold my hand all the time" I said. "Do you really want to go down that road?" he asked, pointing out the myopia of my question. We walked the rest of the way back arms swinging at our sides.

Now I try to tell myself that it is ridiculous to claim an intellectual crush on a carpenter who writes about such meta topics as dendrological scansion but that would ignore that this same carpenter writes such beautiful short fictions as On Breathing and On Precision. Now I tell myself to take the long view.

100 Days 2010.67 You Are the Food

2010-08-01T09:57:00.002-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/399

You Are the Food (Photo and Video)

100 Days 2010.66 Right to Left

2010-08-01T09:57:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/396

Right to Left

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbC1fGD9vWg

100 Days 2010.65 What If Life Were Like Making Movies?

2010-08-01T09:56:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/394

A Day in My Life

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy! (This is a bit of a long one.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKfONLwZGo8

100 Days 2010.64 Dispel

2010-08-01T08:44:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece and one hell of an amazing poem as well at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/392
http://100days2010sue.blogspot.com/2010/07/day-64-decant.html

Dispel

100 Days 2010.63 The Whole World Is Moving

2010-08-01T07:48:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/389
http://www.poets.org/printmedia.php/prmMediaID/15923

The Whole World Is Moving

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4TtWHsQp8PY

100 Days 2010.62 Leaf

2010-08-01T06:14:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/386

Leaf

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H_Q0Ny85BOc

100 Days 2010.61 Appearances

2010-07-31T22:01:00.001-07:00

Appearances(Elizabeth Through the Looking Glass)

100 Days 2010.60 Birthday

2010-07-31T21:43:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/379

Birthday

100 Days 2010.59 Entrance

2010-07-31T20:50:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/375
http://mmducharme.wordpress.com/

Entrance

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8heaGSNM_y8

100 Days 2010.58 They Were So Young

2010-07-31T20:38:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/372
http://100daysphotographs.blogspot.com/2010/07/day-58-july-18th-2010.html

They Were So Young

100 Days 2010.57 Bridge

2010-07-31T19:58:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/369

Bridge

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kl-SStES0Jk

100 Days 2010.56 Point the Way

2010-07-31T19:33:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/366

Point the Way

100 Days 2010.55 Someone

2010-07-31T19:04:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/363

Someone

100 Days 2010.53 Wander

2010-07-31T13:05:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/356

Wander

Please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5W9dW26CjXE

100 Days 2010.52 My Father's Passing

2010-07-31T11:58:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/352

The following piece is the eulogy my sister and I wrote and she read at my father's funeral in November of 2007. The "I" in the eulogy is my sister Colleen who had to read it instead of me as I was stricken speechless by a nasty case of swollen tonsils and bronchitis. Let me introduce you to a few of the characters mentioned by name. There is Scott, my sister's ex-husband (they were still married at the time), Rich, my husband, and Babcie, my grandmother and father's mother who had already suffered the untimely loss of her husband when he was only 59. If this project were like American Idol and you, the reader, were like Simon Cowell, you would definitely critique this piece as "self-indulgent" but it is a tribute to a man I love and miss and I'm going to write it anyway.

Eulogy (Words for Daddy)

If there was only one thing we could tell you about our father, it is that he is a big man with an even bigger heart. A heart that was filled with joy and love and caring for his family. He could be a little tough to love back sometimes, you had to come to the table accepting certain ideas about him as absolute truths: he was always the smartest man in the room, he always knew the best way to do things, and of course, he was always right, and no one would ever defeat him at our annual Christmas Trivial Pursuit game.

He had the exterior of a grizzly bear, with a soft teddy bear interior. Our father was the most generous man in the world and he was always there to help friends, family, neighbors, and coworkers alike. He would always rake Babcie's leaves every fall and take her on mother/son trips to the dump with a few minutes of quiet conversation on the ride to and from. You could always count on Dad to ready with his pick up truck or van to move people back up to school in Easton, Boston, Albany, and once even all the way to Ohio.

I can't imagine how strange it must have been to grow up with two brothers and then raise two daughters. He was happy to receive into his life two sons-in-law that he could include in his family circle. First Scott, finally someone to drink beer with and discuss lawn care and car repair. Then Rich, someone to drink wine with and discuss computers and bowling. It's worth noting also, that when our dad got an idea in his head, there was no stopping him, like when he just had to get a certain large sized lawn mower for Scott to mow our average sized lawn.

He also loved taking his family out to dinner for any celebration or no celebration at all. He had just as much fun at a lavish dinner for seven for our mother's 55th birthday at Morton's as he did a a slightly less lavish dinner for 15 for Cathryn's 30th birthday at one of his favorite places, The East Side Restaurant during Oktoberfest. Believe us, no one could "hoy, hoy, hoy" better than Dad. Probably his favorite dinner outings were for no great celebration at all, just dinner for 3 or 4 or 5 Thursdays at Kid's Eat Free Night at IHOP with his wife, his granddaughter, and sometimes Scott and I, or Auntie Cathryn.

No discussion of our Dad's generosity and love for his family would be complete without mentioning a certain family vacation to Orlando when we were teenagers. He piled himself, our mother, us, our cousin Kim, and a case of Snapple Grapeade into an 86 Buick Park Avenue and we were Florida bound. We ate breakfast together everyday and then he let the three of us loose in Disney World with lunch money and nothing else but a promise to meet promptly at five for dinner. Besides making our childhood dreams come true, Dad was obviously making some of his own come true as well. We were amused to see him whooshing down water slides with reckless abandon and telling us that we just had to try them. Cathryn wanted me to tell you this: On the last day at Epcot Center when she had run out of her own spending money because she bought souvenirs for everyone back home, Dad insisted on giving her $20 to buy something for herself.

There was nowhere our father's generosity was more evident than when it came to spoiling the women in his life. Ge treated our mother like a queen, always cutting out articles about the church for her, taking care of all things around the house large and small: from the lawn to recycling to starting dinner and cutting out coupons. He always wanted to find the perfect gift for her like this April when he dragged me and Elizabeth all around Michael's until he found the perfect butterfly bracelet for their 35th anniversary. He also adored his mother and bought her a beautiful wooden gilder for her to sit on and enjoy her backyard. Just this past Christmas, he could barely contain his excitement as he presented us and Mom with gift certificates to enjoy a relaxing day at the spa together. There was no one, however, he loved to spoil more than his pride and joy, the light of his life, his granddaughter Elizabeth. He relished almost weekly trips with her to Stew Leonard's to enjoy the shows and samples, first birthday gifts of two swimming pools, a sand box, and of course, her very own pint-sized UConn folding chair for someday joining Grandpa in tailgating. He was looking forward to a couple of years from now when she would be old enough to bring to the UConn women's basketball games.

We were lucky to benefit from the knowledge and experience of the smartest man on earth for the last 29 and32 years. Here is just a short sampling of what we learned: how to drive on the highway well and how to drive a stick poorly. He helped us with first cars and first jobs and taught us to always enjoy a good meal and good wine, and he taught us how to over tip. He taught us the perfect ratio on a vodka gimlet, not the traditional 3 to 1, but a much stronger 6 to 1. He taught us the best way to rake leaves and to crack dozens of eggs at the restaurant. He taught us all the words to the UConn fight song, how to throw the perfect tailgate, and how to root with passion for his alma mater. We learned to share his love of a variety of music from Springsteen to Beethoven to jazz and country. Most importantly he taught us these things: He taught us that patience and forgiveness in love are the key ingredients in a happy marriage. He taught us that family is above all else and you will always be there for each other no matter what. With his sudden and unexpected passing we have learned to savor and enjoy every precious moment with those you love. We love you Daddy.

100 Days 2010.54 Perusals

2010-07-31T10:56:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/359

Perusals

Please click on the You Tube link to view the video and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MpJP-4Xv_bc

100 Days 2010.51 Something

2010-07-31T08:18:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/348

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/39

Earlier in this 100 Days project, John Timmons posted a beautiful short film entitled "Cloud". At the time I was current with the project and wanted to put my piece up immediately. I thought the film was gorgeous but was not inspired to write anything based on it nor any of the other pieces that had already been completed based on the film. It was late on a cloudless night so there was nothing outdoors I could photograph to tie in with the piece. I experimented with capturing clouds of smoke from extinguished candle flames but was not quick or skilled enough to capture anything to my satisfaction. In order to just get my piece done, I photographed the smoke from my cigarette, named it "Cloud" and slapped it up on the blog. The piece was done but I was not happy with it, despite a rarely given comment by Steve Ersinghaus on the piece. A few days later, I captured this scene on film in homage to the original work by John Timmons. I am putting it up today, and that, to me, is something.

Please click on the You Tube link to see the video and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_wNTH2Semo

100 Days 2010.50 Holes

2010-07-31T07:32:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/218

Holes

100 Days 2010.49 Passing

2010-07-30T20:38:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/333

Passing

Once again, video upload issues. Maybe I should think about a different platform for this blog as I intend to make more videos for the rest of the project. Anyway, please click on the You Tube link and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kV6URZe_LiA

100 Days 2010.48 The Act of Changing Location

2010-07-30T20:22:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/345

The Act of Changing Location

100 Days 2010.47 Wish Tree

2010-07-30T04:50:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/331

Wish Tree

I plucked a tag from my
Wish tree and sent it out
Into the ether like a
Dandelion parachute

It fluttered away and
Landed at your feet
"I wish to be a mother"
You ground it into the dirt

I picked another wish
Rolled it into a bottle in the ocean
It washed ashore unread
"I wish to be left alone."

I ripped down a third wish
And thrust it into your hands
"I wish for you to hear me."
You turned around in silence

100 Days 2010.46 Posing

2010-07-30T04:47:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/328

Posing

100 Days 2010.45 Flow

2010-07-30T04:38:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/320

Flow

100 Days 2010.44 4th of July

2010-07-29T10:26:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/324

The current bout of major depression that I am currently working through really kicked in Fourth of July weekend so I missed the usual family festivities, but I think this picture captures the same spirit.

4th of July-Actually Memorial Day

100 Days 2010.43 Concentrate

2010-07-29T09:17:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/228
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=880
http://onehundredpoems.wordpress.com/2010/07/04/043-years-ago/

Concentrate

After my car got towed while I was having a long, languid dinner on the patio of Tisane drinking black currant green tea, I waited outside the restaurant with my friend Mark for my husband to pick me up. He was drinking green tea lemon drop martinis out of a rectangular pitcher known as a "vessel". After about twenty minutes of waiting, he left me to go to the bathroom. "If Jon Smith shows up while I'm in the bathroom, tell him I said hello" he said before making his way through the crowd. Funny, I thought, my husband's name is Rich Esten. Jon Smith is a man I had an unrequited love affair for years before I met and started dating my future husband. Through his lemon drop martini haze I made him concentrate and remember that I am not married to Jon Smith, I am married to Rich Esten and in a matter of moments Rich Esten would show up like a knight in a shining Nissan Versa to pick me up and bring me to get my car, $160 cash in hand.

If I close my eyes and concentrate, however, I can still remember the precious magical moments when I was my old self and thought a future with Jon by my side was still possible. Improbable, but possible. If I concentrate I can remember: his hand reaching for mine during a Smashing Pumpkins concert at Madison Square Garden, him blowing smoke from the joint he just inhaled from pursed lips into my open mouth, the feel of his arms around me in a white undershirt that smelled like Tide as he hugged me hello or goodbye, the feel of his lips on mine as he lay drunk on the hood of my great Aunt Ena's 1986 Buick Park Avenue on a Hollywood perfect summer night and lightening coursed through my veins, and millions of other moments large and small that are part of my old life. If I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough it is a fall day in 1996 and we are skipping Intro to Philosophy to go on a "bone ride" and drive til we get lost and I am happy.

100 Days 2010.42 Path

2010-07-29T09:05:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/317

Path

100 Days 2010.39 No One Would Wonder

2010-07-28T18:30:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/307

And No One Would Wonder

If I didn't call
If I didn't write the note
If I did nothing at all
If I didn't show up tomorrow
No one would wonder
Because they would already know

100 Days 2010.41 H2O

2010-07-28T18:19:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/314

H2O

100 Days 2010.40 The Smile

2010-07-28T17:57:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/309

This is a tribute to my friend Mary who was my lucky charm tonight.

The Smile

100 Days 2010.38 Valley of the Shadow of Death

2010-07-28T14:53:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/244

The Valley of the Shadow of Death

100 Days 2010.37 Drops

2010-07-28T14:44:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/45

Drops

100 Days 2010.36 I'm Not Listening

2010-07-28T14:43:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/178

I'm Not Listening

100 Days 2010.35 Duality

2010-07-28T07:11:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/240

Duality

100 Days 2010.34 Hands

2010-07-27T22:12:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/175

Hands

Last photo courtesy of Christy Benoit

100 Days 2010.33 Seymour, Feed Me

2010-07-27T21:46:00.000-07:00

Seymour, Feed Me

100 Days 2010.32 Out of Reach

2010-07-27T21:30:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/226
http://100days2010.blogspot.com/

Out of Reach

100 Days 2010.31 Everything Counts

2010-07-26T21:54:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/223

Everything Counts

100 Days 2010.30 Fathers Day

2010-07-26T19:17:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/186

Father's Day

What can I tell you about my father? What should I tell you about my father? I can tell you what his former boss at the Waterbury Observer had to say about him in his moving tribute after his untimely death. It tells one side of a multi-faceted story, I could tell you about some of the other facets. My dad once beat me because I came home from school and had not yet learned how to tell time. I can still see the clock in the living room of our first Bristol house, wooden with painted numbers and decorative wrought-iron handles. I can still hear him asking me to tell him what time it was as he shook me and I cried because I didn't know. When I remember back to this incident, my "memory" tells me it was probably quarter to six or so.

In August of 1995 my father had achieved one of the items on his life checklist. He finally had enough money to take his family to Disney World. I was eighteen my sister sixteen, and my cousin Kim who we brought along was fifteen. After I spent all my money buying souvenirs for my friends back home and had nothing for myself, my father gave me $20 to buy something for myself. I went to the Mexico section of Epcot and bought myself a blanket. I can still see it (before I lost it in a house fire) woven with all the colors of the rainbow with black "native" designs. In my memory, it was the most beautiful blanket I've ever owned.

The first time my parents met boyfriend who would become the man I am married to today, the evening started out pleasant enough with dinner at the Olive Garden. We then proceeded to a first or second round Women's NCAA tournament game at Gampel Pavilion to watch the Lady Huskies kick butt. He had two pairs of tickets, one for him and my mother, and one for Rich and I. Our seats were at the opposite end of the court and from where we would be meeting up to leave after the game. The game turned out to have a surprisingly close score so we stayed in our seats until the final buzzer when UConn eventually prevailed. We walked through the crowd to find only my mother waiting. For reasons to this day I cannot recall, my father spent the entire ride from Storrs to Bristol screaming at us "What the fuck? When the game is over you get up and go, you don't fuck around." It is a testament to my husband's unwavering love that we are still together as I spent the entire ride praying for the car door to open up so I would fly out and be crushed by an 18 wheeler on 84 East.

In February of 2007, only two months before I was to be married my father invited me to the Civic Center, this time just him and I to watch the UConn men this time. We sat high up and he used the binoculars my sister and I had bought him to show me the close up seats his friends who were boosters and season ticket holders had. I remember running into his younger brother with his son-in-law and how my engagement ring sparkled under the bright Hartford Civic Center lights. Earlier, he treated me to dinner at Mayor Mike's and I nervously asked him whether it would be OK to be walked down the aisle at my wedding by both he and my mother instead of just him. He surprisingly responded yes, of course, it was my wedding and I could do what I wanted and he supported me.

Six months and two weeks after he walked me down the aisle and danced with me to "I Loved Her First" he died in his sleep of unknown causes at the age of 57 after 35 years of marriage, two daughters, and one granddaughter who changed him into a man I never could have imagined in the second grade. I think about him every day.

This is a picture of me and my father:
Photo courtesy of Christy Benoit.

100 Days 2010.29 Cinema is Life

2010-07-26T17:21:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/169
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=834

Once again my video will not upload so please click the link to watch it on You Tube and enjoy!

Cinema is Life

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H148kpmZhog

100 Days 2010.28 The New Team

2010-07-26T06:16:00.000-07:00

The New Team

100 Days 2010.27 The English Patient

2010-07-25T19:40:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=830
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/210

The English Patient

She watches the English Patient and she can't get the words scribbled on the wrinkled remnants of the Christmas cracker, the same kind they pull paper crowns, plastic toys, and silly jokes out of every year in Simsbury on Christmas day. "Crimes committed in peace time are nothing compared to crimes committed in times of war." Was that the exact quote? She couldn't be sure but she knew what it meant anyway. She wonders if he has any idea the great power small sentences from him have over her, He manages to break her heart into millions of shards and pick them up again within less than twenty words. But he shouldn't be the one with power over her heart. It troubled her that even though her heart sped up, it was very easy to breathe when she was near him. It could be ten years ago and Jon all over again. Well, she had told Shawn that she had figured out the secret to time travel.

100 Days 2010.26 Five

2010-07-25T19:25:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/215

Mental Interior Design Pieces:

1.)The time I asked my dad if he was on the warpath and he replied "Now I am."

2.)The nicknames I was given in junior high and high school.

3.)The night in Costa Rica my sexual identity began to take shape for all the wrong reasons.

4.)The time I walked into Jon's house to find him in bed with Marie.

5.)The time my dad missed my college graduation because it was too hot and crowded inside.

100 Days 2010.25 Perfect Moment

2010-07-25T06:16:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/203

The perfect moment: I walked out on the balcony of the spa at Bellagio, freshly waxed (I can't believe I lost the bet) and there in the atrium surrounded by hydrangeas, hyacinths, and tulips and carnation sculptures of lady bugs, frogs, and snails, there you stood. You didn't have to be there at that moment, you could have been anywhere: a bar, a store, the blackjack table where you won the purple chip you were giddy with anticipation to show me in your pocket, but you were not at any of those places at that moment. Maybe it was honeymoon bliss but seeing you there in that moment felt like all I needed then and forever and I was sure in my heart it was the same for you.

100 Days 2010.24 The Search For Meaning

2010-07-25T06:09:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/201

The Search For Meaning

100 Days 2010.23 Dear Jon

2010-07-24T22:08:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/42

4/25/2005
Dear Jon,
Listen, I really don't think this whole situation is working out for me. I am beginning to get too upset when you don't call me back and that is something I don't need right now. I thought we could hang out, have a good time,whatever, but it has to be both of us that want to do that not just me and then you whenever you remember or feel like being bothered or whatever. I don't mean to sound harsh or turn this in to some kind of melodrama because that is exactly what I am trying to avoid. We both deserve to be treated with respect and if I haven't been treating you that way I apologize sincerely. Our "relationship" has always been tough to navigate for me and I'm afraid that I have just run into my last iceberg. Meanwhile if the reason why you have not called me back is something stupid like you fell asleep during Cold Case and I am turning this into a melodrama for no good reason I'm sorry but maybe it was for the best anyway... I hope I have been some kind of good moment in your life- a break from the ordinary,something- as you have been a good moment in mine. That has always been my heartbreak with you: an extraordinary moment followed by several more ordinary disappointing ones. I'm sure this email will either piss you off or amuse you greatly, but whichever it is I hope at least you get a song out of it...

Cathryn

100 Days 2010.22 Phone Call

2010-07-24T21:50:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/181

Phone Call

I called you just to see if you would come.

I called you just to see if you would come and you did.

I called you just to see if you would come, you did and you paid.

I called you just to see if you would come, you did, you paid, but after you came, you made me bring back the room key.

Even though I know that if I call you just to see if you will come you will come and you will pay I will not call you again.

100 Days 2010.21 Sullen Ride

2010-07-24T21:40:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/184

Sullen Ride

100 Days 2010.20 Forever

2010-07-24T09:39:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/196

Forever

Forever? How long is that?
Until you die or I die or
You leave for someone who isn't crazy
And never has a headache?
Did we even say forever on the day that forevers are make to be broken?
I will love you forever.
Forever. How long is that?

100 Days 2010.19 Thank You

2010-07-24T07:42:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/198

http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=808

Thank you-you know who you are.

100 Days 2010.18 Pretty Things

2010-07-23T12:03:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/165

Pretty Things

Blogspot will not let me upload the video right now so I have uploaded it to YouTube and included the link. I will replace the link with the video as soon as possible. Please enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXL1YtHXex0

100 Days 2010.17 Bad Neighborhood

2010-07-23T11:55:00.000-07:00

Bad Neighborhood
(For Elsa)

Tumultuous thoughts, emotionally fraught
Tornadoes of pain, tears like rain
Go towards the good,
Turn from your bad neighborhood

Did you do what you could, did you do what you should?
Don't let questions take you to your bad neighborhood.

Torrents of fear and doubt,
You need to find a way out.
Step on the gas, slam down the hood
And drive away fast from your bad neighborhood.

100 Days 2010.16 The Stairs

2010-07-18T12:00:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/172

The Stairs

My first attempt at setting up a photograph with a person and objects. Please be gentle.

100 Days 2010.15 The Message

2010-07-17T19:23:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/36

The Message

Leaving the message
Receiving the message
Hearing the message
Mishearing the message
Ignoring the message
Imploring the message

I've traveled these roads by night and by day
You have too but not seen them the same way
My exit has passed
My surprise won't last

Insisting the message
Resisting the message
Erasing the message
Chasing the message

100 Days 2010.14 Matches

2010-06-19T23:05:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/131

Matches

I have reached a certain age when I have begun to realize that each generation treats the defining moments in their lives like great moments in cinema. Events that to generations before and after would pass as any ordinary day become iconic and enduring in the mind with time and quantity. Will anyone remember great moments from a generation entitled the "baby bust"? There are not enough people to carry the moments forward like a torch to be passed to subsequent generations. The Beatles are the greatest rock band of all time not because of Sargent Pepper or any other musical accomplishments but because millions of people born between 1946 and 1964 say they are.

Will the brilliant works contained in this project be remembered forty years after the last watercolor has been inked, the last film edited, the last narrative written, the last poem ends, the last line of code checked? The world of the internet can be our generation, carrying handfuls of matches rather than torches, a little flame for each moment that moved them forward to the the next generation.

100 Days 2010.13 Lucky #13

2010-06-15T09:16:00.000-07:00

Lucky #13

When you wear your heart on your sleeve

It is easy for it to get

Dirtied or broken

100 Days 2010.12 Love is Compromise is Love Compromise?

2010-06-02T21:33:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/59
http://100days2010sue.blogspot.com/2010/06/day-12-even-numbers-are-foreign.html

Love is Compromise is Love Compromise?

I cannot mention the housewarming party in '02
And the word geyser has been stricken from your vocabulary
I turn down the TV for you and
You turn up the air conditioning for me

I love your mean stupid cat even though he bites me
You play big blue ghost with my niece even though you hate kids
I talk to your mother
You listen to my sister

You say you'll win the lottery some day and then
I will live in Paris, you in Amsterdam, and
In the evenings we will meet for dinner in Brussels
I accept that this is your idea of romance

I trick you into giving me your keys when you've had a few too many
You realize the next day it was a good thing that I did
I always want to go somewhere new
You always want to return to the special places we've been

I flew with you to Fort Wayne to finalize
Your estranged father's affairs
You hugged my grandmother at the florist while
We picked out flowers for my father's funeral

In 2000 years when aliens land on a ruined planet Earth
And attempt to learn of the civilization that once lived here
They will look for artifacts to learn more about a culture
That lived two by two and they will find:

A white porcelain cup with a brushed nickel bottom
Containing a blue and a red toothbrush side by side
And two identical bottles of contact lens solution
Mine: clean, with the cap on and yours: dusty, with the cap off

100 Days 2010.11 Lines

2010-06-01T21:32:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/151

It's been getting pretty dark around here lately so I decided it was time for something colorful, light, and whimsical.

Lines

100 Days 2010.10 Cloud

2010-05-31T21:36:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/39

Cloud

100 Days 2010.09 Christian

2010-05-31T20:23:00.001-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/62

Christian

Blue-tinged fear, an empty hotel room floor
Only the night before you kissed me on the beach
The Costa Rican night alive with waves and wind and desire,
First kiss, forbidden kiss, the rules of the trip were very clear

Earlier that day behind a palm tree, while the rest of the group was
In the ocean your hand opened me up to worlds
I never could have imagined at 17, even if I had wanted to
But that night, that blue-black night, you changed my life forever

No, stop, I can't; but I was young and you were strong and
You entered me like a hot knife through soft butter my brain
Knew it was wrong but my traitorous body welcomed you
I screamed and cried and then lay still until it was finally over

The next morning you came to say good bye to the group and the reverend
And his wife. You want last picture? you asked in your terrible English
(My Spanish was better) And I thought maybe I had dreamed it all, the cold
Tile on my bare bottom, the sharp pain of entry, the shame, the guilt,
Did I imagine it all?

My seventeen year old brain could not find the words to tell the reverend's wife
I had just been kissed, and now I had to fit this new ugly word into the
Narrative of my short, tortured life. I cried when I told her, but she did
Not understand and mistook my tears for shame at breaking the
Rules, and I could not say the ugly word, it would not leave my throat

She forgave me my trespasses and the next night we went home
Another 17 years of my life has passed and now I can say:
I kissed a man named Christian on a beach in Costa Rica
And I wanted to tell everyone, the next night he raped me
And I couldn't tell anyone. That is my old life, my other life,
My life before this newborn narrative, born from blue-black fragments of
My former life

100 Days 2010.08 I Had a Dream About You Last Night

2010-05-30T16:09:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/96
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=754
http://100days2010sue.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-8-i-never-dreamed-of-you.html

I Had a Dream About You Last Night

I had a dream about you last night, lately I always do
I had a dream about you last night even though you don't exist

My will to bring you to life creates dreams like false memories:
Mediocre former lovers now enrapture me with orgasmic lovemaking

Old crushes who probably still work as dishwashers or at gas stations
Appear in dreams like Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird

I had a dream about you last night even though you don't exist
And when I woke, I cried because I will never see you

100 Days 2010.07 Life Is Great

2010-05-28T19:14:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration piece at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/148

Life is Great

100 Days 2010.06 The No I Never Heard

2010-05-27T18:36:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/144
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=750

http://100daysphotographs.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-6-may-27th-2010.html

The No I Never Heard

I have too much to say and nothing to say at all
You are gone and the saying doesn't change that
Some people may picture you at a bus stop or park bench
Waiting, to be reunited with your wife, your granddaughter, your mother
Or my sister and I

That is false poetry, words made up to soothe where soothing cannot heal
And healing cannot hope and hoping chafes like the skin around my nose
After the third box of tissues on Halloween morning
Elizabeth was dressed as a ladybug but you already knew
The last picture of you and her was from Babcie's house two days before,
Colleen dressed her up to see her cousins, you and mom stopped by
And I stayed home, sick, not wanting to infect the little ones

The night you died I called to check on you, something I had never done before
Mom called me at work to say you went to the ER the night before, sore throat
She tried to put you on the phone (which she had never done before)
And of course you couldn't talk, or didn't want to,
Either way, I never even heard your voice in the background
Saying no

Four hours later the phone rang, it was mom, is Rich with you?
"Rich!" He was sleeping on the couch so I could rest
He's gone, my mom said, your father's gone, he died
"What do you mean?" He had a sore throat, he was 57 years old, surely I
Was still asleep and this was all a nightmare that Rich would wake me from,
Angry, because I was kicking him in my sleep

There is no park bench, but I wish there was a spirit shoppe,
A dark, quiet place with filled with amber glass jars and unspoken hope
A place where I could barter my anger and sorrow for a jar containing a sound
The sound of your voice in the background saying no

100 Days 2010.05 I is Me and She is Me

2010-05-26T18:55:00.000-07:00

PLEASE view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/14
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=744
http://100days2010sue.blogspot.com/2010/05/day-5-objects-are-louder-than-they.html

I is Me and She is Me

It’s just like one of those tests they gave me in the third grade when they were testing me for learning disabilities. Look at the picture and then tell me how many objects you remember. A Nintendo DS, a pink Fender electric guitar, an acoustic guitar leaning against the fireplace, an Audrey Hepburn-like woman staring back at me from the TV, twin framed photographs, a large brown sectional sofa. Did I remember enough? I was being tested for learning disabilities because my third grade teacher was going through a nasty divorce and decided to take her frustration out on someone. According to my mother’s narrative of my childhood, that someone was me. This is how I remember it: Rorschach tests, pencil tracing each side of a picture of a butterfly, first right handed, then left handed, being taken out of class by the school psychologist every day. I can’t remember whether it made me feel special or just different. It turns out that not only did I not have a learning disability, but I was blessed with an above average intelligence yet cursed with supreme intellectual laziness.

She pondered Steve Ersinghaus’ essay-was it on polygons or paragons? How could she have forgotten already; either way it didn’t matter, she would have to look up either word in the dictionary. Contextually she understood both words, but if pressed to define them, it would be difficult-though she would probably have an easier time defining paragon. She used to remember quotes from Shakespeare and Shelley (Percy Bysshe and Mary), Kurt Vonnegut and Catch-22. Now she remembers which account to post the annual subscription for the update to the frame machine, why it’s important to know who initiated the exchange when swapping new cars with a New York or New Jersey dealer, and the reason why Doug the mechanic was fired two years ago-it was because he took a customer’s car to Dunkin Donuts to get himself some breakfast before performing the authorized repair work. She used to have a MacGyver-like ability to fashion a bowl or a bong out of objects on hand-an apple, a toilet paper core, a friend’s mom’s decorative glass bottle. Now she was known for her Lumberg-like ability to clear a paper jam from any of the ancient objects that served as printers in her office.

She ran into an old friend at a bar when she went to see another old friend’s band play. This friend used to be her boss and now she had her own staff. Her former boss asked her: how are things going? This was after her fourth (fifth?) Stoli gimlet so it was easy for her to lie: Things are great, I have a great job, I’m married for three years now, we own our own place, and I have a niece I adore. In perspective, when compared to that other life of hers fifteen years ago, when this man was her boss, her life was “great”. Here, however, was the truth underneath her lie: things are mediocre at best, she had a decent-paying job that was sucking her soul, her marriage, while still to the love of her life, was a daily struggle since her grief and depression over the untimely and unexpected death of her father two and a half years ago, and her fierce love of her niece burned in her heart in painful contrast to her fruitless longing for a child of her own.

The collision of two things in my life has made me stop and consider the significance of “perspective” seriously and mindfully: weekly psychotherapy and hearing the word “narrative” used with increasing frequency. My mother, who is probably the smartest person I know, has always given me the sagest wisdom I have ever heard, even though it has taken me my entire 34 years to begin to put it into practice. You can’t change people, but you can always change the way you react to people. I am now beginning to realize that now I can take this to mean I can change how I react to myself and that no matter how good or bad or mediocre my life has been, I can still create my own life’s present and future narrative.

100 Days 2010.04 Change

2010-05-25T15:42:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/18
http://www.blurb.com/books/356800

Change

Take these

every single day at exactly the

time. You are

and the

will

you to
There may be some

and

along the way but if you take them ritualistically, systematically, and with purpose, you will

For two years I have taken these

I have given them a

And yes, because I took them ritualistically, systematically, and with purpose, there has been
But I wasn’t necessarily

Then one day something came along through my haze of

to give me an alternative to finding out what I was missing, because all along, what I have been missing in my life has always been my biggest

Do this thing every single day for

Do it ritualistically, systematically, and with purpose and maybe

instead of

can be the catalyst for

100 Days 2010.03 Stars

2010-05-25T06:56:00.000-07:00

Please watch the inspiration video at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/28

I tried my hand at a little something different today (maybe it's the illness) but when I had this conversation Sunday something about the sweetness and innocence of it struck me so profoundly that I knew I had to do something with it. When I saw John's video, I knew this could tie in somewhat.

I hope you enjoy it: Stars- A Conversation Between Me, My 7 Year Old Cousin, and Her Mother

100 Days 2010.02 Perspective

2010-05-23T12:52:00.000-07:00

Please view my inspiration pieces at:
http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/66
http://steveersinghaus.com/mediaplay/?p=726
http://onehundredpoems.wordpress.com/2010/05/23/002-from-your-face/

Perspective

How I see my face:

Small forehead, big nose
Brown, discolored eyelids
Pores like lunar craters
Deep set eyes-like slits in a cut of pork belly

How my husband sees my
face:

Beautiful

Photo Courtesy of Christy Benoit

100 Days 2010.01 Icy Hand

2010-05-22T00:21:00.000-07:00

http://johntimmons.com/video/archives/93 This video is so beautiful- I wasn't expecting to be so immediately and directly inspired.

Icy Hand (For Rich)

bits of inspiration, like flakes of snow,
float through a bright pink winter sky

we scramble like children through thick white piles-
you warm your hands on my inner thigh

I wrap my feet around your calf and you shiver with delight;
these are the nights that you remember: the nights before we had to try