January 2012
20 posts
The best way to be safe is to move away, I tell my kids. How many fists do you see move? How many times do you wish you could run?
He rests his head on my left thigh, and I wonder, what did I ever do to make all the animals like me?
Are all presidents this good looking?
relatedly: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zEJ2ZLkjqQI&feature=player_detailpage
We scraped the fish from under its charred skin, and wrapped it under layers of herbs, with a translucent wrap - dipped it in fish sauce and called it a new year. Did he say, as he reached for the lettuce, “I love Oakland!” And I suppose I knew what he meant, as out-of-context as his expression was. It made sense, yes. Happy new year, new year, new year.
Remember that you are made of the kind of stuff that lasts.
She found all her pockets unzipped, and inside — nothing. This is not what one looks for. No, not this kind of moment.
The sun hovers like a muted light bulb, strings spread out everywhere. The earth tries to hang on and pull itself close. We are trying, yes, trying. I would hang onto you like the sun and earth in its dance. There is darkness and light in all of this. Please do not be scared of all that is dim and for the tunnel we find ourselves in. I know you are grateful for whatever light we have. Me too.
Let me remember this — the ocean spread out from left to right, skyline blending in with horizon, and our feet dangling over the rocks.
Not so sunny San Diego, and an out-cold nap.
I have a dream…
that there was no such things as guns and gangs
that there was no garbage and clothes on the streets
that there were no robbers
that there was no shoes on the telephone wires
that there was no cussing (that people always spoke nicely)
The dreams my students came up with, on their own, for our MLKJr. art project.
It is often like this, on the drive home: hold on, this...
I wish I could capture that energy, and the easy way my kids laugh, and how the smallest things excite them — like the putting of a fish in the water bowl, as the new class pet slithers out of its hideout. They remind me to smile and be content.
Just let me lie still and breathe as deep as my lungs can take me. Why is it that, “dear jesus, oh my God please help me” is always the first thing on my lips in the murky morning?
“You lucky dogs, you.”
Today, I found myself in line at Petco, buying ridiculous amounts of things for a pet garter snake. This habit of risky decision-making of mine better come without too many regrets.
He tells me, “You would do anything for your kids.”
The best ideas are created in the shower, with that hot curtain of water on my back.
If I could hold on to one thing, it would still be Azucena’s smile.
And Paula’s laugh. And the way Damonie runs. And how Jarvell bounces back. And Ben’s silhouetted wave at the top of the slide. And getting to leave with the sun on my back, and come with the sun in my face.
Why does one jarring moment hold so much weight against all the other sweet ones?
Damonie, I want to remember that you are a child — even when, in your anger, you break the eraser I gave you that morning in half, and the pieces lie in crumbs of pink rubber. I want to remember that when I told your dad how proud I was that you did turn it around, your choices showing your ability to shine — you reached your arms out to hug me goodbye.
You are so eager, and I hope...
It takes the magnet of a sunset to darken the woods before the end of our hike.
It takes half an hour to meander the edge of the mountain, from Skyline through the Oakland Hills, until we find ourselves at the bottom of its northern neighbor in Berkeley.
It takes no money to ease ourselves pass the toll booth at the magestic Claremont Hotel, to give the four of us a free thirty minutes to...
Oh, to start the new year full.
Morning, simple praise and a cool, pale rock in the lines of my palm. Afternoon, a languid nap and driving through the forested hills. Evening, surrounded my aunts, all of which are borrowed. It is a treasure to be surrounded by laughter and to step into that warm, pulsing circle that is family. Night, the flickering screen in the arms of my love.
December 2011
1 post
My fighter’s heart.
November 2009
3 posts
October 2009
2 posts
Hanging out after school on Halloween. Who knew this would be the last time I saw her?
September 2009
4 posts
One last day.
The Bronx.
August 2009
17 posts
Late night, new year.
Making house.
Making home in my first classroom. Moving years of materials into the hallway.
Bikram yoga. Sweated from every single tiny pore in my body.
Remnants of NH’s first Pie-Off. Peach goodness.
View to downstairs. My favorite sofa chair, $10.
Breakfast overlooking the Port of Seattle.
Pike’s Place, downtown Seattle.
PNW Roadtrip Day #1. Beer, instant noodles, apples — everything tastes better when camping.
July 2009
13 posts
