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Sometimes you might see me with another girl
Lookin' like I'm havin' fun...
Although she's cute, she's just a substitute, because
You're the permanent one.

=== sings Linda Ronstadt in "Tracks of my Tears".

Writing to Lois on April 16 nine years ago:
"In real life and in just parts of four days last week, she really moved into my heart. Where she will always stay."

Soyeah nine years isn't 'always', but it's a good start.

Writing on April 17, on this exact day nine years ago:
"We can keep connecting with Anna as much as we want and whenever we want, by opening ourselves to listen to her wherever she is now, over the bridge of love we have for her that can always keep her close and safe."

I could have written all that just yesterday. Since I feel the same ways now as then.

Clocks and calendars all melt. Some other things do not.

everyone heals in their own time

On campus. OSVPR messages everywhere. They say, part, "Everyone heals in their own time and their own way, and the path isn't always a straight line."

Well, no it isn't.

Sometimes it can even be, say, thirty-five thousand feet over Montana. Not a straight line, but a direction.


Crosspost from Ki:


Through each of us to one another.
The icon is from Holland, my first Christmas ever, across the pond in Europe, 2008. I created a group of photos of tree lights, which had been strung up to decorate branches along the street in one of the plazas not far from my home then. At Kerstmis, as the Dutch spell it.

CrossPosting toward Kiota:


'You're only dancing on this earth for a short while.' Looks even shorter when you get this far, waaaaaay far beyond 18, and you look back toward the past, toward the dancing, toward the tears. And, joys.

Words are from Cat Stevens.

The lighted "stars" remind me of her short story, "Too Late For The Stars".

There are many earths to dance on.

And across. And over.

you're the permanent one

...automatic weapons or not.

Meetingup again with Linda Ronstadt, she's only about seven years younger than mee, one of the most successful "chick-singers" --- that's how SHE puts it --- successful in the 70's and 80's, and still is now. Awards and platinum albums all over the place. Up into the hundreds of $millions in 2016 dollars. Did a bit of stage work, too. NYSF in Central Park, it wasn't free Shakespeare, it was free Gilbert & Sullivan. Now, she's retired in 2011 and dx with Parkinson's in Dec 2012... "can't sing a note."

Super covers. Last September, she and Emmylou Harris and Dolly released "The Complete Trio Collection", 41 tracks on three CDs. She might not be able to sing any note now, but they've digitally remastered their big hits and you can always go back.

CrossPosting from Ki:


This morning isn't the last morning at all. It's the first one of the next nine years. Or, of however many years.

Yep, lots of Ones... but you're the permanence in each of them. Your smile doesn't look out of place anymore. Whatever the place.

Blessings Be.

we laughed and needed love

Escaping the rain, mostly, using paper towels to keep the hardware dry. At our old cafe' an hour ago, now the last post remembering Saturday 12 April 2008.

CrossPosting from Ki:


The post title is from Cat Stevens:

...Remember the days of the old schoolyard?
We used to laugh a lot...
When we had imaginings
And we had all kinds of things
And we laughed and needed love,
Yes I dooo
And I remember you...
No matter what place, whatever the space,
I still see your face
Your smiling face, inside my dreams...
And I remember you.

And I remember something else.

To carry forward --- carrying the fire from the past, not its ashes.

We both do that. The mission.

No matter what place.

we've only just begun

Icon is a shot Ki took of Becky, during a family trip to Turkey. Becky is playing in the waves at the eastern end of the Mediterranean.

On this last afternoon she was here, nine years ago, I had just flown back to Boston all through the night and earlyMorning sunrise, and had cancelled a flight to New York to see another friend, a performer opening her own multilingual show on that Saturday night. Cancelled b/c I was utterly exhausted and needed sleeeeeeeep.

Wanna crosspost to her memorial journal:


The words are from Karen Carpenter's first megaHit in 1970. She was 19. Ki was seventeen days short of that.

Karen passed away in 1983 of a heart attack from complications of anorexia. She was 32.

A short quote from Tom Petty, one of my faves:

I'm Learnin' To Fly
But I ain't got wings:
Comin' down
Is the hardest thing...

O no, it's not hard. Just entirely avoid coming down at all.

they open from the side you're on

April 11, 2017. Tuesday. All day.
April 11, 2008. Friday. I left her via SEATAC, aboard the red-eye to Boston, then UVM. Left her VERY reluctantly...but, yes, it was time.

Overwhelmed. Emo drained.

Although I've been on campus multiple times since I moved here, today for the first time I visited again, precisely, the places where we went nine years ago. Foot by foot, chair wheel by wheel, the whole path. Pics, of course, will pub them later; not into the tech right now, just the afterglowies.

Discovered the curvy path to what was the Sem II Cafe, now it's Einstein's Bagels.

Nine years ago today, we got up, tripped through the libe computers, went over to the cafe'.

-"Don't turn around, pick up your cup and follow me right out that door.
-Max just came in, she's right behind you. DON'T TURN AROUND!
-But I wanna meet Max!'

But Ki was gone out the door, and with that tone of voice, I followed orders.

Then we sat on the steps outside and discussed Max..."What is this thing you have about Max? ?" and I explained that anybody so important to her was important to me also. More discussions about sex, the summer and beyond, Cambodia, the future, and other things, including her plan to ask Max if Max wanted to start dating again.

I was right back on those steps today... not able to sit down anymore, but lots of pics of the chair and virtual pics of the memories. The virtuals I always have with me, Ki wasn't sitting on the steps but yes indeed she was, and cuddling inside me all the time as well.

Me = lots of weeping. First time back at that spot on the very day and hour we had been there in 2008. Could barely take pics for the eyeMist. The actual sun was shining brightly, for once.

We walked over to her dorm... once more, just like then. But just like the cafe', her old dorm is gone too. Not the actual bldg 'e-dorm', but all the structures beyond 'd-dorm' have been interiorly-decorated into new living spaces; on the outer entry-balcony the outer door to e-307 is gone because e-307 does not exist anymore; her door e-309 has now become the door to the entire top floor up there. It's been repainted. I would bet "my tiny, tiny room" does not exist anymore either. The old bldgs are newly-called "MOD-HOUSING."

.... Reading all that, I see this is all fluff now, the only connections are to the very vivid VIVID memories.


Max certainly DOES exist now, in fact atm she and I live only a single state apart instead of the whole country. I asked her last year if she wanted to meetup on campus but she said "It's way too hard, I'm still grieving." She has invited me to visit her in her new city, so we might be able to meetup over there, the travel is inexpensive and frequent.

Max was Anna's central and intense love-interest during the few months Ki was here as a first-year student.

When I got off the El Al jetliner in ISR in August 2008, the first thing I did was buy a Cat Stevens collection of songs, 3-CDs for fifteen euros (He goes back to the sixties and seventies, and he just toured the USA in 2015.) Several of his songs stay with me, here are the partial lyrics to one:

I'm not making love to anyone's wishes
only for that Guide I see...
Oh I know I'm on my way
to somewhere not so far from here:
Life is like a maze of doors,
They open from the side you're on...
Just keep pushing hard, grrl ---
Try as you may,
You're gonna wind up where you started from
You're gonna wind up where you started from

And this totally recalls a story from Rumi, the 13th-century Islamic mystical Sufi poet (Cat converted to Islam, changed his name to Yusuf Islam, now lives in London...)

One day a pilgrim came up to Rumi and said, "How do I open the door to God, in my life?"

Rumi answered, "It's easy. Just don't ever put up the frame into which to screw the hinges."

Blessings Be, on this day and all days.

If you're not able to tear down your doors, you could try Learning To Fly over them.

love is a rose

Linda Ronstadt sings:

"Love is a rose
But you'd better not pick it,
Only grows when it's on the vine;
Handful of thorns
And you know you've missed it;
Lose your love when you say the word, 'Mine.'

Crossreferencing to Kiota's LJ:


Come Up The Years and love mee.

it'sjust a kiss away, kiss away, kiss away

Crossposting from Kiota's memorial LJ, sitting here today on Evergreen campus inside safeSpace libe shelter while it rains and rains:


yours is the breast my heart nurses now

complete poem is in Ki's Memorial Journal, at


splintered but also timeless. at the same time.

at all times. All melts to One.