Telling: Altars & Artifacts


every happiness

I am a fish in the night aquarium, flicker and moon, but I don't go down. Too giddy to sleep. Too busy. Is busy the same as happy? Sometimes. In someways. My mind is slippery and slick. My thoughts quick and incomplete. I am elevated, levitated. In the bath: a tub of dirty dishes. Through the window: a bitten off moon. On the table: knives and a fork, cast off juice box straws. I'm in love with all of it. I know no moderation. Ideas proliferate (bunny brain). I want it all. Want to do it, think it, know it all.

Inside every happiness is the understanding that all will soon be broken.

A Mother's Journal

field notes from
1997 - 1999