And won’t you dance with me?

Somewhere, there are pictures of me dancing, but I don’t have them.  Hard to photograph yourself while you spin and whirl and who knows what else to the beat of drums.  It was a dancing New Year’s, to say the least.  One more thing that has taken me pleasantly by surprise.  Woke up sore and more than a little muddled, but all told, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.  Happy 2010.

The Thing About Seattle

I’m still in love with the city. And it (might be) starting to love me back. I’ve found my way into an office for two days of the week, and it’s banal and lovely.  Music on, computer on, no need to interact with humans. The commute is half the distance, the people (when I do talk to them) are friendly enough, and looking out the 12th floor windows is lovely. Better pictures will come from a better day, but for now, here is what I see in Phase 6 of Seattle: Office Temp Girl.

David: I have to say, enjoy your time right now. You’re lucky. Moving breakneck speed through school left me out of school and flailing, with out a college fund help me through the periods of questioning. Take photographs, travel, do all the things that your mind can soak in. And travel. Travel. Travel.  I love Seattle, but I would love nothing more than to be able to pick up and visit Europe for a bit, see Venice before it sinks, say hello to a dashing Scotsman living in England, wander through a castle… if you can, do it. Don’t let anything hold you back.

Wyoming

I forget how incredibly diverse landscape can be sometimes, and then I go somewhere new and am blown away.  I just got back from a trip to Laramie, Wyoming, where I was in one of my best friend’s weddings.  She grew up in Wyoming and I never really thought about what it looked like.  I think in my head it was just a version of where I was from, and I didn’t really process what it would actually be like.

Laramie has been having strange weather this summer; thunder showers once a week or so, and the land is green and colorful instead of the normal dry browns of August.  It has been a long time since I’ve seen a proper thunder shower and I’ve never seen lightning like in Wyoming.  The sky is massive- stretching just end to end forever, and streaks poured down into the ground.  I didn’t even see a strong storm, just a mild one moving through.

I don’t know that I could live in the west, but I sure could visit again.  I didn’t get to get much out of the town, but what I saw was amazing, and I’m still trying to process both the trip and the wedding.  Such a nice escape.

It’s going to be a hot night in the old town tonight

Imagine this with more sun and the land and water solid bodies.

While I know that it gets hot in other places, Seattle has been relatively mild.  Until now.  With heat in the mid to upper 90s I’m about ready to melt.  We’re keeping the windows closed througout the day and trying to keep the house cool, but there’s only so much to do.  I know it was hotter than this in California, and Jersey can get this toasty (and humid) as well, but for some reason it’s hard to keep in perspective.

Luckily, we have water here in the lovely city.  I went to Lake Washington with my housemate and his friends and we splashed around and lazed in the sun.  I don’t have any pictures of my own though, so the images are borrowed.  I think I’ll be crawling down to sleep in the basement tonight.  I just don’t function well in the heat; I’m trying to read Forrest Gander and feeling as though my brain is too small to take it in.

Weather like this reminds me of this past summer, working with my Mom at the Prop Shop.  We would have days of absolute grime and heat, moving the same couch three times over.  Luckily we worked with wonderful people, so it was bearable, but still exhausting.  I remember coming home from a day like that and almost without needing to talk deciding to stop in High Bridge, pick up gin and tonic water and making ourselves icy cold drinks with lots of lime.  I loved leaning against our kitchen chopping block, the sweating glass in my hand, relaxing with my mom.  My family means a lot to me, but I don’t tell them often enough; I just ramble about them to my friends.  I think it’s time I change that and become more active in my relationships.

First step: have my brother in town!  Mike comes in tomorrow, and I’m really excited about his visit.  I just hope the heat doesn’t take it out of me too badly.

Ariadne

It started out grey and stereotypically Seattle this morning.  I had plans to meet a friend for coffee, so I headed out anyhow, waving to my roommate as I left.  A bit chilly, warming with the walk, and eventually we found our way to the coffee shop at 43rd and Phinney.  A bit of clever iPhone use and we found directions to a park that my friend thought contained a sundial.  In a city more known for grey and rain than sun, we were headed for a sun dial!  But when we got there it seemed more season oriented- bits of silver inlaid into the ground with “winter” and “summer” written on them, but no standing spire to cast a shadow.  No sun either, so it was all rather moot.  Still, lovely view of Queen Anne and Ballard and there were umbrellas tied into the trees.

The entrance to the park had a large spool of silver “thread” and a quote about Theseus following the spool of thread out of the labyrinth and embracing Ariadne after he emerged.  I’ve been re-reading Bullfinch at work, and the funny thing about the Theseus myth is what follows the slaying of the minotaur.  Ariadne has abandoned house and home, she has betrayed her father and fallen in love and takes to the sea with Theseus and his men.  They land on an island and as she sleeps on the shore Theseus sails away.  Throughout these myths the women are left behind and cast aside, not to mention turned into fountains and trees and animals because some god or demigod has fallen in love.  The nymphs call to their fathers, the mortals pray to the gods, and instead of punishing the men the women are transformed.

It seems uneven, even if the women become immortal as Ash or Alder, as constellation or bubbling fountain.  A hero is a matter of perspective it seems.

Everybody Wants Some

Can’t ask for a nicer day.  It’s sunny, but not too hot, and I walked down to Fremont to meet a friend for coffee this morning.  There were stone benches and a shop dog outside the Lighthouse, good coffee in hand, fun conversation.  Then we walked down to a park and swung on swings for a little while.  Headed to Ballard to meet a friend at work and we grabbed lunch and watched the fish swim in the locks.  Makes it sound like I’m a social butterfly, but it’s just a day off of work and bright sun so I can’t help but want to be outside enjoying it with people.

The fish ladders are wonderfully creepy and green, and this time there were actually fish swimming up and back.  We also saw a seal in the water, though I thought it was a dog at first.  Shiny glint and it was gone, picking off fish I’m sure.  The world needs more seals, and by that I mean more playfulness, more bright shiny sun, more dipping slick through water and swimming.

Come Here!

I make no secret about trying to convince all of my friends to move out to Seattle.  I think it’s a lovely place, and although the days are getting shorter from here on out, the sun is still setting close to ten.  As the weather gets warmer I’m sure the twilight will be even better.

Still, I know most people won’t make it out here.  I’m realizing that my friends are putting down roots, and the dream of living in one neighborhood with everyone close by seems even more of an impossibility.  The world is so vast, and everyone has Lives happening Where they are.   Sometimes I miss when my world stretched a few blocks and I couldn’t imagine it larger.  The space between corner to corner; and all my friends lived within an easy bike ride that crossed no busy streets.

And then I talk to someone across the country, or across the ocean, and I’m glad everything has expanded.  I’m just not sure how to deal with it quite yet.

How Time Compresses

Wallingford is a beautiful neighborhood.  I walked down to Fremont yesterday, but took no pictures, so this is from last week I think.  It’s been grey here the past few days, more so than it had been, but still pleasant weather.

It’s strange to think that this time last year I was leaving Riverside, and it’s been a year since I’ve seen all but Adam and Sunshine.  Is that even possible? It has to be, because it’s true.  It feels both like yesterday and like a million years ago.  Plans have been made and fallen apart and remade and there are new graduates emerging into the same place I occupied last summer.  I wish I could impart knowledge, but I’m still figuring it out.

So good luck, graduates.  May the world have an open place for you and may you find all you seek and embrace the things that go a different way than you had intended.

Goodbye Foxglove, I barely knew you.

Hit the point in spring where flowers begin to shift over to other flowers.  The irises are dying and curling, the tulips have long since lost their petals, and the poppies are starting to shed their showy colors.

There’s more, I’m sure.  The sun was nice today, but I spent most of it inside.  I love Seattle, I know I’ve said it, but I’m finding the city difficult at the moment, despite the beauty. Or because of it, and because of how much I love it.

Indecency

It’s been hot here.  The sun burns off the cloud cover in the morning and the day rises into its heat like a child putting more and more layers of clothes on.  Of course, hot for Seattle isn’t hot for California, and I feel a bit silly thinking it’s downright summer already knowing how much hotter Riverside is right now.  My body seems to barely remember Riverside. Barely.

The irises are beginning to curl their petals into bruised clumps, and the poppies are exploding.  There is something excessive about bright poppies.  Almost indecent.  They seem oversexed somehow, bees drunk in their blooms, pollen black and scattered without caution.  Spring brings out sex as shoulders are exposed, loose skirts swirl around thighs and sunglasses hide glances.  Summer peaks over and it’s all in full swing; blossoms gaudy, laughter bouncing off of low clouds and sunset stretching deep and warm into night.

I went out to Fremont with my friend last night, and we sat in the outside part of the bar for a while.  Live music drifting towards us, the night hazy and warm, the big dipper pricked through the canopy.  This is another body to learn, another place to inhabit.  Come visit Seattle, I will show you the poppies. I will show you where the sidewalks open into parks, where the shadows pool, how the city glints and gleams through trees.