Thursday, July 12, 2007

"to fill the spaces / where my body's been."

So I was checking up on that lovely documentary-in-progress, "My Heart is an Idiot" and the filmmaker read this poem:

"Keeping Things Whole"

In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is
always the case.
Wherever I am
I am what is missing.

When I walk
I part the air
and always
the air moves in
to fill the spaces
where my body's been.

We all have reasons
for moving.
I move
to keep things whole.

-Mark Strand


I used to have a phobia, maybe not a phobia, maybe a quirk of some sort, about buying furniture. What I mean is, I never wanted to really "own" much because I thought it would make it harder to pack up everything I own into a Honda and move across state lines. It was somewhat comforting, knowing that nothing was holding me down to the place where I was currently residing.

Then, I moved to Chicago, and made it a year only owning a futon and a dresser. Then I bought a desk, a small little desk that has a fold out/down leaf so really, it's only the size of a small two-drawer filing cabinet, see:



















(the bottom drawer doubles as a seat)


Then, I got my own place and made it 10 weeks before I bought a bookshelf and a table. Now, even thought the bookshelf and table are "easy" to dismantle, I find myself * freaking out * over their presence in my home. The clash between the comfort of having a place to eat my cereal or not having all of my records and books on the floor and the the invasion of "stuff" in my space is turning me a little bit inside out. What this means is that I am in someway tied to this place. If I ever want to leave, I have to sell all of this accumulated furniture. Or I have to get movers and a u-haul. Is it worth it? Am I more complete with this surrounding reminder that I am asserting myself in this space or am I more of a "whole" person with nothing around me?
















I think the latter is true. I'm not ready to put any kind of roots down. I have a feeling, in less than a year, I'll be on my way somewhere, my furniture sold, my books and clothing donated, and just me and a Honda crossing state lines.


in other news, I'm working on a story that starts mid-sentence. ba-dow.

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