Open Water

There is a picture that captures you perfectly.
All it took was a little
"snap"!
and you were taken
your face set in emotion
set in the lens
your shoulders back
sturdy like the tall strong mast of the sailboat
by which you stand
there is only a slight smile on your mouth,
each corner only turned up enough for me to see it
and I know what it means.
it means you feel the rope in your hands, each hair of it prickling against your fingertips
the wind that tweaks your nose and soars against your chest is strong against you
but your countenance is stronger
you are going to split the sea with the bow
cut through the bodies of the water, keel under you
and you stand on top of it all.
It captures you perfectly and all it took was a snap.
Just like how something snapped in me when you captured me.

It's the perfect setting
The blue green water chops, rough and wild
But that's what I think of you.
You like to hide, you like to pretend
people think because you speak softly
that you are soft, like a worn, tattered sail
but let them try to bind you
you stand on top the power of the ocean
let all of it churn beneath you
you'll glide over it
just make sure to duck when the boom comes around
Aptly named the boom because that's the sound it makes when it makes contact
Just like the sound my heart made when your hand first made contact with mine

I should sail away
I have all the seven seas and more to explore
I could sit in front of maps and chart my voyage
or simply sit and let the wind take me

Peach

Eating a peach is the most sensual experience I can think of
Each fine silver vellus hair stands up straight off the contour
of its plump, round, orange body
I run my finger over its surface
I hate to break the skin, the fine soft skin
with the edge of my teeth
but as I run my lip over the skin
savoring the tingle of the soft tissue
I cannot help myself
As I sink my teeth into the thick liquid center
the juice runs out toward me
my tongue is alert with the sensation of sweetness
I suck the wound I have created,
taking in every drop of juice
before completing the bite
My hands are dripping with glucose
the succulent drops run down my fingers
I lick off all the sweet pools
that have collected in the lines of my hands
Then I demolish the peach
leaving not one heavenly morsel behind

Rain

When it rains like this

on a day like today

It makes me smile

and I think of the earth drinking it in

each blade of grass is like the little pink tongue of a kitten

lapping up milk

or of a small child

drinking lemonade on a hot sunday afternoon

I open my mouth

and point the chute toward the sky

the glowering gray plane

random drops ping in scattered places

but if the clouds lumber heavily enough

I will soon feel the drips plunk into my mouth

and roll with the coldness of the sky

down the back of the my throat,

the wetness soothes

the sky cascades down too big to fit in my mouth

and quench my thirst

so it sends down pieces, 

messenger drops to say

"I will satiate you. Drink your fill."

and along with the earth, I do.

A Dana Eckstein Original

"Pews"

Yes I am the one they talk of

Me, notorious in the queue

My reputation is put out there

Spoken of by those who often do

For sure, it's of me that they talk 

Those bags who whisper in their pews

You must have heard from them mention

Of their stories, tales, and reviews

Please, don't listen to what they've said

Those old bats who lack any clues

They've not done me any justice

They still have yet to pay their dues

If they tell you that I am wild

I guess that could be somewhat true

But they haven't explained at all

How that is relevant to you

Do not let them keep you from me

The guards, lions that prowl with rue

They wish to keep us separate

That's why they paint me in bad hue

It's because I'm independent

That my infamy did accrue 

How they do fear sharp minds like ours

That stand apart from their foul crew

I need to reach you urgently

Before their words can sit and stew 

You just cannot believe those lies

The slants and facts they've turned askew

Love, let us come together now

A rare bond to form something new

We'll soar before the salt sinners

And then proudly bid them adieu

One of my favorite poems

"I'm Nobody! Who are you?" by Emily Dickinson

I'm nobody! Who are you?

Are you nobody, too?

Then there's a pair of us - don't tell!

They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!

How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!

New Song Lyrics - Stranger

When I look at your eyes
there is something familiar
There's something reminiscent
I remember of your figure

Did I used to know you
Were we once close?
I think I used to love you
You're the stranger I miss the most

I flip through photo albums filled with us
Why is a strange man posed next to me?
Could it be that you were some else
And I dropped from your love to apathy?

I sacrificed myself so I could save you
but you only saw that I let you free
I'd hoped that you would learn to grow
but 'fore two fortnights you've replaced me

When I see the friends we used to share
and I peek a glance into your room
There's hollowness that fills me
My emptiness, I feel it consume

Are you sure we've met before?
You address me as if we're acquainted
but surely you're alien to me
What happened before was all tainted

You'd think I know better than to trust
a man who says he's capable of change
He won't reform his faulted ways
He'll just turn completely strange

When I look at your eyes
there is something familiar
There's something reminiscent
I remember of your figure

Did I used to know you
Were we once close?
I think I used to love you
You're the stranger I miss the most

Oh how I miss you sometimes
I'm sorry - have we met?

It's Never Too Early to be Thankful

Yesterday as I rode on my bike to class (too late to walk), I noticed a guy making a mad dash across the bridge. As I pass him near HJG and whizzed on my way to class, he called out, "I could use one of those right now."

Touché

My bike is fantastic. Most bikes are pretty nifty creations and mine is extra. It is sleek and lightweight, sturdy and trusty, fully equipped and utterly perfect in every way. I am a very lucky girl to have such a nice bike. 

This reminds me to be grateful.

A friend of mine I've recently visited isn't super religious but she says grace every time she eats. There are blessings in Hebrew I can say for food, but I've never taken the time to learn all of them. I only know the ones for bread and wine on the Sabbath. My project for this week - learn them all and start using them!

I also want to remind the universe that I am thankful for everything else too.

I have such wonderful family. This is something I used to take for granted a lot. Parents are supposed to be loving and supporting. Siblings are supposed to be your best friends. The sad truth is most are not and that's something I've learned more and more about recently. I love my mother and my father and my sister more than anyone else in the world and I would gladly give up my life for them if it were ever necessary. Without them, my world is not the same. They give me courage to face everything and I always that whether or not I've faced it successfully, I have a warm, loving place to come back to. Whenever I am scared I have guidance. When ever I am lonely, I have home. Thank you to my family. 

This is not to say anything less about the family my friends have made themselves to be. There are people in this world who are not related to me in any way and yet, they have chosen to bond and connect with me. They too offer warmth and support and have taken me into their lives with love. Thank you to my friends.

Thanks for the roof over my head, the food that I eat, the clothes in my closet, the blankets on my bed, for the color of my eyes, the warmth of the sun, the teachers who really teach, and for learning how to be wise.

Last but not least, I really like (this blog brought to you by) my computer and the internet. So thanks for that too!

Please

Pacing

Pacing

It seems like my life is out of control - speed wise.

Everything is coming so fast! I'm having the same shirking feeling that I felt when I first learned how to drive.

I started with a minivan in a parking lot. I lifted my foot off the break and the car lurched forward and even though I gripped the steering wheel, I didn't know if I knew how to turn it properly in order to avoid the curb. Furthermore, I was in a huge minivan and as I learned to drive I always had to be conscious of its big tail and cumbersome body.

Well I seem to be picking up a lot of things to do, stacking up bulk items in the trunk of my metaphorical minivan. There are certain activities and commitments I deem necessary to my career (and since I am going into such a difficult field, anything that can be roughly construed as helpful ends up categorized as necessary). Then since I am spending so much time working, I hate denying myself pleasure activities which I why I refuse to quit ballroom club even though it is completely unnecessary and why even in my busied state I am looking to work in a greenhouse. I need time for plain old fun.

So here I am, with so much stuff in the drunk of my minivan, it's spilling into the drivers area. Sometimes I need to break and I find that something has slipped beneath my foot that prevents me from pressing down.

Full speed ahead.

The biggest problem is I often feel weary as if I don't have the energy and capacity to handle everything I've taken on. I'm just rolling down the highway with cars going 70mph behind me and I'm frankly, running out of gas, yet I find myself able to run on empty sometimes. It is a gift that it keeps me from crashing but I don't know what the long term effects nor do I know how long I can keep it up.

But there is also the issue of perspective. The sides of the roads are in my life become blurry. I don't have time to look at them and I certainly can't turn around and look back.

Well then, it appears that I am most definitely not in control.

So should I be enjoying the ride?
I think so.
Where to?
Disneyland?
If my road is going where I really want it to, maybe I'll end up at Nickelodeon!

Dana

ps. My life is going so fast, yet my running is pitifully slow. I need to train a lot more if I hope to run a decent 5k for the upcoming turkey trot. Did you know that wild turkeys are actually very fast animals? Must must must keep up!

This is a beautiful stream that flows as fast as nature commands - I wish to be free flowing like the river!

Destiny

One Love, One Aim, One Destiny
Peace

I saw this window in the early fall at the Namaste Cafe in New Brunswick, NJ. It is an important place to me. The cafe is the in the renovated second story of the George Street Co-op, a small market of health food. I used to go with my mother all the time when I was little. 

Seeing the new second story reminded me that things consistently change and grow. A place I remembered from my childhood did not wait for me to come back. It is thriving without me and has become a new place with a new aura.

The window in particular sparked me and touches on something that has concerned me of recent. The window says mentions aim and destiny. I often think about the path I've taken and whether I've taken this path because I have been pushed toward it. I worry that supporters of my art, wanting to help me, pushed me in that direction, when I could have easily become passionate about another field. Given that I am so frightened about making a life with my art (as I have decided to do), it is easy for me to doubt if I'm in the right place.

I am afraid that although my dedication is there, my focus is not. I pray for aim so that I may never lose sight of what I want. 

Namaste. The light in me sees the light in you.

Mountains Writing Piece

The mountains are soft, she argued. They stand tall, blanketed in a cozy layer of snow, furs of trees coating them. They are enveloped by clouds. Everything about them is soft, including their slow descent to the valley.

No, he persisted, mountains are sharp. They are sharp like the stinging point of the needle leaves of the pine trees. They are jagged as they jut out, scraping the heavens. Their edges are serrated, their cliffs severe, and their descent to the valley anything but gentle.

That's not true, she said. They are soft like the cotton ball clouds that surround them. The downy froth that smoothes everything.

Smooth? He asked. Have you ever seen a mountain? Are the rocks that project out of the surface smooth? Are the menacing concave crevices of the glacier smooth?

Yes, she said, they are smooth.

No, he said. Everything cuts sharply out of the mountain.

Like what? She asked.

Like the trees. He replied.

Well, that doesn't mean anything, she retorted. The hairs on your face jut out of your skin just as the trees jut out of the face of mountains but that doesn't make your cheek any less smooth.

Eh, he considered, rubbing his face. I guess you make a point there.

katchke

This blog is not dead...yet.

I really like these ducks

They are so ready to go to work and be awesome. They are my inspiration for this year.

Allegory

One fine day, a princess was born into a beautiful garden. The birth was quiet and beautiful. No one in the world was there to witness the golden butter petals of the fertility flower curl down to reveal the baby. The child, supported and held by vines, reached out her plump little fingers and selected a buttercup from which she drank the morning's dew.

Sun rose and set in the garden and then it rose and set again. The child, growing, watched the path of the ark with her large blue eyes. During the days, she romped through the garden, clad in a garment of leaves, her golden locks bouncing with energy behind her. At night, the moon watched over her and she, in turn, watched the lady bugs crawling through the grass.

One day, the child, curious, reached out to touch one of the lady bugs. Her fingers, clumsy from inexperience, approached the insect with too much force. She crushed it. Looking at the mangled mess on her fingers, the child shed her first tears. Even under the protection of the garden, the lady bug was vulnerable to forces larger than her.

When the child was grown, she had a vision while she slept. Her heavy breaths matched the tone and pulse of the beating sound she heard in her dream. With each dark and resonant clang of the drum, she watched her garden shrivel. Finally, all that was left was earth. The little princess scooped a measure of dirt into her cupped hands and kissed the earth that had provided for her for so long. Even with the tenderness of her affection and the strength of her intention, she could not bring life to the pile. There was something missing.

The princess did not know where to go or who to ask for advice on how to bring back her sanctuary. Even the stone pillars depicting the gods and goddesses of the natural world had disintegrated into dust. Finally, the girl knew what to do.

At exactly midday, she walked into the center of the field and raised her hands to the sun. She reached her finger tips, stretching with al the burning desire in her towards the atmosphere. As the last bit of strength in her expired, she plummeted towards the ground and burst into a million light leafy pieces which floated around the ghost of the garden. As each piece landed, it combusted in a burst of colors that  splashed around and colored the gray barren soil with vitality and life. Each spot that received a band of color sent forth roots until every plot teemed with green plants and vibrant blossoms.

"Like vines we intertwined" - The Hush Sound

So my sister's earrings, each a white discus with the word peace upon them, broke. She asked me to fix them and I probably can. I am very good at fixing things.

A simple story, no doubt, and even a little boring as a write it. But what is so great about this story is that in context it is subtly amazing.

The backstory that makes this little record of unfortunate body decor hysterical is that this week in my house the peace broke.

There is a line of tension threaded through the beams and supports of my house that began winding its way there in 2000. It crept, like ivy vine, into every crevice to the dismay of my family but all we did was watch it grow. When its growth reached its maximum potential, it began pulling itself. The tension of this chord is so tight, wound like a guitar string, so that all you have to do is lightly pluck it to hear the beautiful resounding symphony of very angry people screaming very hurtful things at each other at record volume.

It is not my problem. But it is my family's problem and I hate having to watch them duke it out. I have tried so hard to guide the growth of the vine so that my family can live happily and peacefully but that stubborn thing is so phototropic that I can't get it to grow nicely. It is always seeking the sun and growing where ever it needs to in order to get it.

So I can fix my sister's peace earrings, no problem. But there are such deeper and more significant "fix-its" that I simply don't have the tools for. It makes me so angry that I almost became the one shouting hurtful things. I watched the whole situation escalate for ten years and that is just about the limit of my patience.

This is me. I have become Poison Ivy. Angry and resentful and now more likely to break things than fix them.

Well at least my sister can have her stupid earrings.

Fairytales

My life is kind of funny because I'm the kind of person who is able to embrace reality, mainly because I don't have a grip on it. I can't remember the time before I'd seen disney fantasies like The Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast. My life has always existed on some level in my head as The Little Dana or Dana and the Imagination.

This picture was taken a year and half ago at a shop in the Salt Lake City airport terminal. I love it. Most especially, because I never stopped. I just went straight from being young enough to being old enough and my life has been, consequently, enchanted. Sometimes I wonder though, if my grip on reality is thorough enough.

Today I spent a good amount of time in that fairy tale land, trying to craft a story about mermaids. I spent some time doing grueling research (I watched The Little Mermaid...again...I wish I knew how many times I've seen it. It must be nearing the hundreds!). I had an enjoyable day on planet earth, but I really enjoyed the time I spent in the la la land in my head. 

Right now, I'd give anything to jump back into my head and be on the beach, climbing on the moist jetties with salt water spraying icy chill into my noise, craning and looking for that mermaid who would appear among the waves and beckon me to join her. Unless of course, underneath the water her friends are fighting the way mine are right now.

This weekend, one of my friends who has consistently let me down, let me down again. Except the worst thing is, she didn't let me down. She did something stupid that hurt herself and since I love her so much, that hurt me. But basically, this girl is hazard to herself and I don't know what kind of ways I need to slap her to help her get a grip on reality.

I can't get a grip on reality myself. How am I supposed to give it to her?

Except my lack of grip isn't dangerous. My lack of grip allows me to sit in a blank room for an hour and see great adventures taking place behind my eyes. Her lack of grip lets her live thinking that she can avoid consequences of her actions.

She had great dreams. We had great dreams for her. I don't know if they are still even worth contemplating.

Worst of all, I can't give up on her.

The reality is, she is probably going to have to work through some very difficult flaws for the rest of her life. Yet, I can't get a grip on that. I will always see a beautiful path she could be taking and try to steer her toward it.

There is some song on the radio these days "Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now". I think I could really use a fairy tale right now. One wish, especially one manipulated into existence, just isn't going to cut it.

A Slippery Situation

While gardening with my dad this weekend, he found a toad.

We both got very excited. My dad picked him up and handed him to me and I held him so I could observe him. Although toads are not known for their beauty, there was something about his glossy eyes and the way his nostrils flared at me that made me just want to keep him forever. Unfortunately, it was clear from his squirming legs that he wasn't interested in such a relationship with me, and I put him down. He didn't hop away right away, but by the time I was done staking the tomatoes, he had made his way down the old dusty highway, never to return again.

I was absolutely delighted by the whole experience. When I was little I used to read The Adventures of Frog and Toad, but I'd never seen either in person. This year I adopted a pet frog that my friend could no longer keep, and after this weekend, I had a face-to-face with a toad, thus completing my amphibious experience.

As much as I wanted to hold onto the toad, I knew that he didn't belong with me, much the way my frog doesn't belong in the tank in my bedroom. Goodness knows where he came from, but given that I think he is an African clawed frog, he belongs somewhere in sub-Saharan Africa. His life in my room is probably dull at best and such a life would be torture for me.

So I wonder about the source of my desire to keep the toad, knowing very well that he'd only get bored and lonely with me. I'm always collecting stuff which I think is a fairly human trait. There were times when people gathered what they needed, but the trick of the system is that they can only gather what they need. If people gather all of the flowers needed for a certain medicine, they could be sure that they have all they can take, but then they wipe out the possibility of more ever growing. And then they could also take more than they need, rendering themselves overwhelmed by a menacing stack of flowers. And that's me. My favorite part of Mary Poppins is her bag because I'd love to be able to take anything and everything with me all the time.

What am I afraid of losing?

So the toad hopped away and now I'm toadless. I debated for a long time on whether it was worth shucking off my dirty gardening gear so I could fetch a camera from inside to at least keep a memory of him and ultimately I decided to get over it. When I saw the toad had gone, I was so sad. I missed him like an old friend and what I lack in ownership of a toad, I more than make up for in nostalgia for the absolute delight of looking into his eyes.

There is a quote from the movie, Troy, that haunts me.

"I'll tell you a secret, something they don't teach you in your temple. The gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now, and we will never be here again."

When I first saw it, when I was fourteen, I completely didn't get it. My reaction was that human moments are not more beautiful because they are doomed, but instead they are tragic because they are fleeting. For me, the most beautiful things are the ones worth keeping and if you can't keep them, is there a point?

I know my attitude often times prevents me from enjoying that which I can't preserve. I keep trying to learn from the wisdom of Achilles (or David Benioff, the screenwriter..)

I let the toad go. I didn't even give him a name. He isn't mine to name, but now, actually, I think I should name him, so that he'll be preserved in my memory.

This post is dedicated to you, the mysterious traveling Achilles the Toad and to my delightful yet anatopistic pet Delta the Frog.

❀Dana

A New Beginning

The beginning of my new blog and a forum for my curations.

Today's picture of the day was taken in May at the University of Hartford. The stones in Hog River are usually arranged by frats to advertise their letters, but on this marvelous day, someone arranged them to give us all a message of inspiration.

So what is the purpose of this picture? It's to make a great start for my blog and to continue the optimistic beats in my life.

YES!

❀Dana