[decision]

precious. and perfect. decidedly undiluted. walking...sandstone wearing...waving redwoods...raving. such beauty in truth and decision. such confidence in solitude and isolation. i crave nothing. knowing the self in decidedly unmovable terms. both of my hands are empty. smiling. full mouth and heart no longer wavering. i wholly embrace the taste of this. decision. to move. softly stepping. again and again and again. with nothing and no one. and ev-er-y space inside of me. a light.

[worthy]

i want space to come over me. step inside the cells where walls meet. when you arrive...i sense the world stashing air around me. causing life and love to fall through my skin...forcing breath and extracting nonsense. there are no words to call forth execution. you are a wonder of this world. a cave for craving. a man worth surviving.

diety.

your face. a slight deity. bound before me. your limbs. watching in silence and tearing at me. wavering slightly so that i might see. whispering softly so that i might know. every reason. every acceptance...and lust and love that could cover us. every memory that ever has been and is being created in this moment. now and for each step. i take. towards you. i am not standing in silence anymore. i am awake and perspiring. exhilarated. and patient. amazed. at the beauty and futility. of Love.

wow. that was a night! (julep. doc's. and my new favorite gay)

i'm not sure how to describe last night. so i'll just get to the specifics.

first off. if you haven't eaten at jeollado (sushi on 4th between 1st and 2nd) you are missing out on one of the best things in nyc. amazingly fresh produce. gorgeous sushi. and sake for $1. yep. a buck.

julep. oh how i love thee. not only for your amazingly cheap (dare i say free??) beer. but the basement (guero) is pretty much my 2nd (or is it 3rd or 4th...?) home. playing a show in the dark with a red light on me was pretty awesome. and despite the fact that i had a hoarse voice because i've been out till 4am and up at 8 every morning for the last 9 days you still loved me. liza. genevieve. jeff. wow. you rule.

gerry. you made me something delicious and even included a plastic spoon. i was confused at first about the bag with soy sauce in it. but then i realized you are a far better drunk than me and were merely providing the utensils for the gorgeous yumminess that you created. i know it wasn't apple pie. but i liked calling it that. and i liked eating it even better. having homebaked goods in a bag with my name on it handed to me when i walk into a bar is awesome. i really am homeless....but well provided for...woot!

doc's...meridith. that's pretty much all i have to say. and daniel thanks for coming out. and noel it was good to see you. and most importantly, christian! despite the fact that i was wearing an impossibly short black dress with hot pink underwear and you decided to knock me and my barstool over...you are still my (new) favorite gay. see, usually i am perfectly capable of incurring enough mysterious bruises onto my person in the course of a night. but you my dear...wow. there's nothing like tumbling from that height. in that dress. onto the floor. good thing my ninja skills kicked in and i was able to recoup before anyone knew what happened. it sure was confusing. and you are still my (new) favorite gay. and your brother's hot. awesome.

dawn. you rule. that's pretty much the verdict. popcorn. sex. and the city. we are dangerous alone but trouble together. i love you.

ok kids. that's all for now. stay tuned for pics and more stories. mili's coming this weekend. i hope i don't die.

xokg.

my feet step softly.

there's a reason that beauty does not lie. that truth holds all secrets ransom. that my face seeks redemption in yours. there's a reason that guides me, steady and unwavering towards this place. where answers speek freely. where beauty, truth, and love are the only reality.

state of affairs.

ok where to start. my head does not hurt but i am bruised. and my eyes won't focus and my inner organs are shaking. part joy of living part lack of sleep part being in love with the world...it adds up indeed. i think nyc has taken to me quite well. i've spent 3 of my last four birthdays here and they just keep getting better. photos. coming. soon. more. right. now. too preoccupied trying not to fall over to post :)

thank you all for this beautiful weekend. i love you. shannon. dad. meridith. dawn. jeff. alex. jen. bacon. michael. jess. jessica. taly. james. gerry. suzanne. joey. strangers. and new friends. oh yeah. ps. dancing at 4am to garth brooks and being swirled around on the dance floor then having your partner slide across the floor on his knees to you a la dirty dancing patrick swayze style? hot. i love everyone (i think i said that already)...

this week? solo show at my 2nd favorite dive bar (julep/guero) on wednesday. come on. disco balls, candles and vintage furnature? bring it.
*find an apartment*yoga*sleep*
and tonight? fried pickles.

:)
xokg.

reasons to be beautiful :: catherine feeny

it's time. to share...more music. more sound. more soul.

i've been humming all day...'you can't tell the truth, not even to yourself...'
the opening line of the brilliant song 'touch back down'
if you've never heard it best get on over to www.catherinefeeny.com and check it out

also just as obsessive is my fascination with the song 'i come home' which you can hear on her myspace page:
www.myspace.com/catherinefeeny

she has a stunningly hushed voice, soothing and soaring all at once.
it's beautiful to see her getting so much more attention these days.

...xokg.

wow. really? (my head hurts and other fun stories)

let's begin with a side note ---> only in new york do they not only make your coffee for you adding the perfect amount of cream and sugar in an instant...but they place it ever so kindly in a paper bag with napkins and hand it to you.
so strange.
i'm lovin it.

ok back to my head.
it's hurting. a lot. a ton. mucho. beaucoup.
i narrowly escaped turning into a gremlin.
shannon is in town and trouble is already loose.
we headed out to see the james armata show last night (um. heaven. if you haven't seen him you are missing out. ps. crazy drunk irish people are not the authority on channeling k thanks. i am.)

despite our best effort to see the show then head straight home so we could get shannon to bed since she hadn't really slept or eaten in about two days...well.....we.....ended up drinking. let's see...wine, beer, whiskey (omg i'm so sorry jameson i cheated on you but he wasn't irish so does it really count???), jager, vodka. repeat. and no, i'm NOT wondering why my head hurts so bad today. but thanks for asking. (5am bedtimes are nifty.)

i'm not going to explain much more. photos tell a much better story. let's just say that telecasters rule. unborn alien babies drool. and i love everyone. even you.

:)

[gift]

stand. encased. enraptured. lost language resurfaced. he pulls the face of fate apart before my eyes. i wear callous remarks no more. honoring the deafening language that calls forth angels and demons together, at once, in such space as this. where golden threads appear, long entwined, ever apparent. you are the call. you are the space without waiting, the energy of moon and jupiter, the ring forgiving all reproach. there has never been such vision as this. where words call colors and memories and skin, drawn together without touch. i know not what this speaks of. but i remember everything. and i know that excellence, past and present, is now a gift to give. in you. through you. with you. and of you.

[untitled]

please remember. that lust is not a virtue. that obscenity is a cause for retraction. that inspiration is a song and a touch and a moment free of time and space. let there be fortune. and light. a signal. some sense of rationale.

i love. and what of it? what fears have been faced to come into this place...

i cannot carve any more secrets into my skin. the words of your dream, placed on my palm, will remain. i can see again. i can sing again. and with that. i will begin again. i am free again...to place such hope and want and need in a single thread. and dance until it's tied between, this space where we meet.

xokg.

lost.

i have lost all lines of communication. misplaced teeth and tears over this. held my own hand and rushed forward accepting fate and fear and synchronistic wanting. but such silence blinds me. there is no mastery of wordless lust! or even you, near. i have lost everything. everything this time. and though the words tie hard knots around me, faltering and caressing. i know. [i know that he is gone.]

razors.

i feel sharp. sticky. obsolete.
airs and absence and comfort are lodged deep in my throat trying to get out. seeking space. hands and limbs and lips. they retrace fate and bring forth memories long buried. i thought i was stronger than this. i've grown to know more than i wish. so sitting softly on lily pad and sandalwood, i carve secrets into my skin. singing, for faith or freedom. listening for eruption or just, a moment within.

this is not a riddle...

only a fool would choose fear over love.

prayer [true taste]

prayer. for peaceful remembrance.
for forgiveness
for sins and lust and regret
for every moment I wait for you
for every second you wish it could go on
without a word of undue persuasion.
I am not without fault
I crave what does not belong to me
I am not without fear
I taste what is offered no more
but I believe
and trust
the pain and truth of lust
and remember
to hold
and embrace
the true taste
of love that’s to come

forgotten.

it’s tearing at my limbs. shooting ‘cross my belly. obscene. wicked. truthful.
obsession dies a faulty death only to rear up night after night. again. slight worry. remembrance of broken heart, wet limbs and absence. but the heart knows no limits. the hearts seeks only truth and with it, late night phone calls, dreams or words of sex and rebirth. if only there were answers. but questions, more, keep coming. and I have no response. I have heady words and eager hands and silence…
I can calm anger. I can live in love. I can claim beauty and death at once. I can stand still in this. I can engage chaos. I can be the answer, loose tongue and a wager on how long till this is all forgotten.

love. [i forget]

it's almost 930. i'm in nyc. sitting on a balcony. alone. finally. for one of the few moments i get these days. which i cherish more and more. the sun is gone but the sky still holds onto blue. it's not even hot and it's july 2nd. some miracle. some beauty. my mind mumblings are of love. of relationship. of the unspoken contracts we make to each other. conscious. unconscious. before arriving here even. the commitment we make. to communication. to understanding. to seeing. to knowing. to holding. to respecting. to knowing what we are and what we need. so that we know what to ask for. so that we know what we can receive. so that we can embrace and willingly give that which we are confident to offer. so that we can carve out space such as this to reflect and replenish and honor our solitude when needed. when it is asked of us.

delusions. of rules and regulations. forgetting that a relationship brings flexible boundaries made to be pushed and expanded so that we can grow. i forget. i set up fences and close doors. loosing the keys and forgetting combinations. i unhinge doors to keep myself occupied, in attendance to all i'm being shown. the dance of faith and lust and love. of friendship, of long forgotten lovers, of souls, mating, underestimating and recuperating. i forget that language cannot solve issues of the heart. that emotions cannot be persuaded except through simple song or long bouts of silence with both beauties present.
happiness. growth. the knowingness of another. the understanding of the chaos that makes their world exist. the holding of their hand. the weight of their breath. the slight release. the full birth. of love.

the special relationship

somewhere between assassins, glaciers and airplanes there is a space. i can't call it love. and i won't call it lust. i won't even name it. but i will explain it. a situation so delicate. so tenuous. so filled with adoration and slight obsession. with questions and exclamation points and..................... lots of ...........'s. sometimes grief. she carries in a splash of apathy and rewards patience with understanding. sometimes no words can come. sometimes too many are uttered. sometimes all that is needed is a hug, a head on the shoulder or a look in a bar with a handful of strangers watching to acknowledge what is felt. to be reflected back again and again and again...all that cannot be spoken. all that is unknown. but felt. deeply. in the heart. on the skin. in fingers and in photographs. in words and through song. there are days one wants to walk away. there are days i want to run. catch the first plane out of new york city. and fly to you. but i would not know how to sit still for so long. or what of me you would take when i arrive. when the offering is everything. so i walk in circles. standing in dreams and changing my reality with long deep breaths and calm seeing. you are not me. there is no destiny. there is longing. and deep stirring. and lessons burrowing inside of me. transforming. rearranging. adjusting. still i cannot and do not and will not expect any little thing from this. from you. but i sit. and watch. in silence. offering up to you the simple space of my heart and the emotions therein that lay bare. for fear of the unknown is no longer an emotion i can live with. what words must speak have spoken. what wait has abated now brings fortune. and new songs bear singing.