It only took six weeks for my leg hair to grow out. And even though I've been back in California for over a week now I still haven't shaved; I like feeling that I am an animal. Studying poetry has made me more sensitive on every level. I hear more in music now and when I am touching objects they touch me back. Since reading Baudrillard I have been thinking every time I drive about my personal identification with my car, which is so much like a bear; am I like a bear; if I were an animal, would I want to be a bear? I've always perceived myself more like a dolphin.
This year has been really splendid; I've gotten to travel a lot. Utah, and California's coastal spine, and Helsinki and Sweden and Copenhagen and Paris. Next time I go to Finland I will go to the country and spend every morning in the sauna and afternoon in the forest but I loved Helsinki; I loved the flea markets and the berries and the fish. At the Hietaniemi flea market I found an Olivetti Valentine for 25 euro (!!!!) but didn't buy it because I didn't want to carry it around all day. I had two picnics in abrupt downpours. I learned how to say excuse me and I said it to everybody because I felt bad that I couldn't say anything else.
It was storming like crazy in Sweden, too; when I got to Gothenburg lightning was striking and the mall flooded. A couple days later there was even a tornado. But the days at the beach were perfect and beautiful, the dream Swedish summer, nights that stay light and don't get cold. I swam more in the ocean in four weeks in the North than all year in California. Man får passa på. I didn't see any jellyfish this year.
I got the sunniest week of the year in Copenhagen and I swam there too, at Islands Brygge in the harbor. It was cold, like jumping in the ocean in Santa Cruz in April. I got the other sunniest week of the year in Paris, which I didn't even actually want to go to. I mean of course I wanted to go to Paris, I have been wanting to go there forever, and way more after reading Stein and Rimbaud and Bachelard, but by the time it was time to go, I was not wanting to be in a city, I had just been in three cities, and really Copenhagen was great this time, because I don't live there anymore, and I just get to do all the fun things and leave, but I was wanting to go slow; I like moving, but I like moving slowly. But yes above all else I like being in motion, so on the flight to Paris I just thought of the trajectory I was drawing, and then I was there, and there was this language I know nothing of and cheap wine by the glass and a park or a square on every other corner and cheese to die for, and all movement and flux, and everywhere something astonishing to look at.
18 August 2012
I'm sitting and waiting for the bus at Fredrik Bajers plads. It seems like a dozen 6As have passed in the opposite direction. All the babes are wearing overalls. I'm thinking about LA. I'm salty from swimming in the harbor, and tanner. I'm thinking about how to be in a city. Always check for toilet paper. Don't be afraid to go in. It's a damn good idea to ask for a glass of water. Carry snacks. Try to remember only one thing at a time. That woman pedaling by is wearing the same t-shirt she was when she offered us her joint på staden yesterday; I don't know her name.