Conversations About Joni Mitchell

Chicago reminds me of the idea I had of Chicago. The houses are very pointy. These are the kind of Americans who have upward mobility in mind, why else would so many identical arrows line the streets? The colors of the homes are very distinctive, which is very important because they are so close to each other.

My brother lives in an old warehouse. His room is two very small rooms, and he hangs his lamp on a nail in one room, and on an ankh in the other. "It's perfect because an ankh is a symbol of the sun" he told me. David has chickens, and a small black cat called "____." He has 3 roommates that all remind me of David.

I've met some of the people that I've been hearing about for four years. One of these is a professor named Matthew Goulish. He is exactly as wonderful as David describes him, except alive, so more wonderful. I attended one of his classes which I got to participate because a) "all twins are allowed to come to class" (-M.G.) and b) I'd read the book the month before, The Turn of the Screw by Henry James. It's a ghost story, but now, having been to class, I have a sneaking suspicion that it's actually abstinence porn like Twilight. I am not sure yet, so don't tell anyone that.

I have to finish building my tent, and writing songs to sing inside of it, because I keep inviting people to come to my tent and listen to my songs.

This trip has been punctuated very regularly with conversations about Joni Mitchell. She's like a clock.

Christy Finally Goes to Colorado. Part I.

With all the ease in the world we decided to take the band on tour, to one place. Denver Colorado. Having earned $35 (by passing around a hat) we figured we had enough money to finance our trip! And so we set off for Colorado with two guitars, a banjo, a churango, a tiny tamborine, and a new name: Albuquerque Boys Choir (we don't have a myspace yet, but look us up soon).

Albuquerque Boys Choir (Bethany, Christy, Stef)

Arriving at the Pitchfork co-op was surreal. We walked in the door and I recognized everything. First the smell, then the posters on the walls, and the dirt on the floor, and the man sleeping on the couch (a guitar tucking him in like some wise and sturdy blanket.) It all sunk into me with such but-of-courseness that I giggled all the way up the rickety stairs to the attic library.

We slept there and in the morning got to know Denver in the best way possible: picking up food for Food Not Bombs. Bethany, Stef and I piled into the truck with Eric. I use the word "piled" entirely on purpose. The passenger seat was not affixed to the floor in any way. It was wonderful. We then headed to the markets that give donations to food not bombs. I believe that this is the best way to shake hands with a city. Here's why: A) Often when you go to a new place the majority of your interactions with human beings involve money. B) It feels much better to pull up to the backs of grocery stores in a big brown truck and politely ask where the huge pile of free food is waiting. Everyone smiles as you lift box after box of perfectly ripe tomatoes and one-day-past-expiration-date crates of soy milk into the back of your truck. They dig around and shout things like "hey I found some eggs you could take! And how about an amazing fuckload of beautiful grapes?" (No one actually said fuckload, but I felt like they were saying it. And fuckload was the most beautiful bountiful word ever uttered). We were gifted a small mountain of bread, a bursting bag of pastries, pears, boxes of the world's most lovely peppers, clove after clove of garlic, and miles of smiles...




We brought back our moving van of food and got to sort it, chop it, taste it, and cook it! There is nothing I miss so much about living in co-ops as chopping mountains of vegetables on huge cutting boards with 3 or 4 other people.




At some point we drifted away for naps and band practice and evening came.

The Legendary Explodin' Jesus Christs opened up the evening with some soon to be hits. The band consists of two of the co-opers, a piano/alternately guitar, and a very small casio keyboard. They're lyrics are really to dirty to repeat here, but in person are hilariously appropriate. After the rousing show we were nervous about our soft harmonies and folky acousticness, but it went off very well. And we had them dancing by the end! I want to make more dance music just to see people dance!

After the show the night imploded into the usual sort of co-op party activities: a bonfire (eggs being fried on top of), bottles of wine, banging on pots, throwing things out of and at windows (Bethany attempted to push someone out of a window, but the only victim was a potted plant), a game of sardines (Swooning with melancholic reminsings I encouraged everyone to sing "Row row row your boat" while we hid in a tiny room together in the dark),

--Note: Of course, nothing compares to playing Sardines in the JS when it was closed down, what with the rats, the hobos, and all of the ghosts standing invisible in the hall--if you know what I mean.

and an unexpected trip into the night to play zombies on a play structure across the street.
Then sleep on a library floor, and morning.

As we left I noticed the clouds were exploding in ways I have never seen before.

Holding

Yesterday I was standing on a hill of black rocks with some students from the community center. It was really hot, but windy, and the climb had been steep, but short. One child came up to me and said, "Christy, is this one of the most wonderful things that's ever happened to you?" I thought for a second and said, "yeah, kind of" and she said "me too!" Later we found a rabbits foot.

Fourth Communion, Sip of our Spirit.

The fourth Communion of all time will take place this Saturday at our house. If you are in Albuquerque and you are feeling musical or something else you are cordially invited to come! This applies to all consecutive Communions as well (the second Saturday of the month!) Disclaimer: Although we partake in wine drinking it is not necessarily the blood of Christ. Communion = Really Great sharing on whatever spiritual/intellectual/chemical/spacial level you choose to operate in.

Public Announcement Number 1

Out of necessity we started a band.

Happening in Funny Ways

diagram of something else: part I

It would seem to be an accurate description of the events. Something strange happening, or funny maybe. That is, things were occurring awkwardly and efficiently at once. The pieces were falling up, like leaves (if they were to fall up), or dominoes to be more precise. The phone calls, and the words all arranged themselves like hiccups and giggles.
The back of a hand gave off a telling glow, the earth and the buildings rearranged themselves in tetris variations. The bed was falling apart, sheets first. It was like lemon custard exactly, some evasive crust on the tip of a silver spoon. Every question and motive was a limitation because of the exactness of the kaleidoscopic "to be."

diagram of something else: part II

The fingers sensed it slowly, and attempted a portrait. "Careful of the pear and the purple curtain!" Now this is a delicate line to walk, like a memory of how fruit smells. A very slim trail. And to follow it on an empty stomach with circles under your eyes! But this is exactly the sort of trail I have been looking for! I grasp at thin tree branches, green mosses, and a path I've walked on and have not walked on (both at the same time).
I :::::::::::: the road, the simplicity of the arrangements, the buttons lining up, and the edge similes that fit between the dark dark fir and the light light field. These last two were located by a lake in Oregon that we used to go to a lot.

diagram of something else: part III

As the Days get Warmer so too do my Words. (Gold Earring Theory Part II)

Although I did not wear gold earrings today, I felt as though I could have. Today was a t-shirt day. Now at 10:30pm I could still probably sit on the back steps playing the guitar and feel heat coming up through the concrete under my feet. Heat concrete, feet. That, my friend, is what gold is really about.
I woke up with a sore throat. But it was only on one side: Your left, My right. I squeezed a lemon at it. Then I got in a sour mood (was it the citrus?) I squeaked my way through a pot of tea, and finally got a friend to steal me a cup of coffee, but was I really breaking the law? My lack of gold earrings stirred about my face. I drank the coffee and began to feel just fine...

Does coffee count if you steal it? Who, other than A, will judge me if I drink coffee anyways? A always tells me not to drink coffee, but he doesn't give me convincing arguments.
I went to work all buzzed up and jittery. I was walking on shaky clouds. We played games on dry spring grass. A new student got the giggles. He laughed the whole time. His chuckling made me feel very successful. Mostly we mimed setting traps and falling into them.

After a sumptuous meal I found myself quite inexplicably forced into attending a potluck. We sat on a rug laid on a carpet, a volley of food piled up around our ankles. I was stuffed and thus refused everything but wine. I got very jolly and knocked down piles of plastic cups that Bryan built. He knocked down mine. We acted exactly like children.

(Note: At the restaurant a couple of really cute, small, french children turned to our table and announced "I have a cookie!" They were both very smug about it. Then then they started repeating themselves and adding nonsense words "I have a cookie mookie lookie dooky," "rooky tooky shooky pooky." We were being bombarded with "ooky" words. Streams of "sooky wookie looky zooky" poked our eyes and prodded our half drunk chai teas. Who taught them to do this? It was the most amazing thing that had ever happened!)

Back and forward in time now. In the strange apartment, on the floor, picnic adjacent, someone turned off the lights and we told each other of places we had been and would like to return to. My favorite was cape cod what with the coconut oil, roller blades, and salt water taffy.

I told a story about floating on my back in a lake. All I could see and feel was blue blue blue. It was like I was in the sky. To wrap up my theory on gold earrings I would like to put in one final thought --here amidst the blue sky. I guess living in Albuquerque is kind of like living in the sky. But you aren't weightless. There's something tugging at your ears.