column of smoke

backbone of smoke and
gray gritty ashes.
Where are you?
thickly wrinkled cheeks,
they must have felt
your smile.

What was I to you, as
your soul flew from your body?
How am I to know
where to find you, how to
distinguish you from other
beautiful things in the world?

orange blossom night

What do you do when it comes upon you suddenly after dinner? Or no, maybe not suddenly, maybe thats why you have been slightly “off” all day. Spaced out. Distant. Quiet. And then the warm Arizona air scented with orange blossoms sweeps by you as it cools in the night and the tears come, un-summoned, and you see the fathoms, the miles of darkly lit water below your boat. Why is it that I can only see the depth of this grief sometimes? I am thankful that I only see it sometimes, that its not there, a bottomless ocean beneath me every day. But on these days, on these orange scented evenings when the tears come, what am I supposed to do? It is hard, learning to just sit silently and feel the rocking of the boat.

Manchmal – On Some Days

Manchmal – on some days
Sometimes I miss you, and sometimes I don’t want, that I miss you
Sometimes I miss me, I am searching myself in the dust of my new life
Sometimes I dislike the New and the Old

Sometimes things strike me
I turn around and want to tell you the story from the my magpies
Or share, how much I like the sound of the babbling geese over the river
Oh, I greet the crows every time
Maybe I am greeting you, maybe you are greeting me
Each time is still often

I don’t want to loose memories, like my friend Robin says,
pebbles to put in my pockets, treasures,
words, pictures, thoughts, tastes, chuckles, smells, views
which should remain
but no new story will be added by you

Inevitably new stories are added now,
And I am wrestling with my Alter Ego sitting on the perch
That my life really goes on, not impressed if
I do not want it or if I wish it
The task is still to plunge

(from Jutta)

Requiem for a friend

That we were frightened when you died…no; rather: that your stern death
broke in upon us, darkly, wrenching the till-then from the ever-since –
this concerns us: setting it all in order is the task we have continually
before us.

Rainer Maria Rilke, from: Requiem for a friend, 1908

stones in my stomach

Memories are now like pebbles I collect, loading down my pockets with them, hoarding them and wanting to store them in little corners. To tuck them into the ears of friends, the pages of books, and the folds of my skin. I eat rocks because they remind me of the earth and I consume memories like they are commodities, just taking as much as I can for as little as I can, the voracious neoliberalist consumer I am.

When I found out. I was walking across the crosswalk, walking from one side of my life to the other, in the space of a footstep I had crossed over. I couldn’t comprehend, all I could feel was fear and anger, and all I could see was your little face, face of my once familiar dad, moving away from me as if on a train I had just missed.

Like a candle just blown out, a plane just lifted into the air, the moment of departure seemed to slide into a moment quicker than comprehension. And I don’t want to let it go. I don’t want you to fade into the past, I want to hold onto the feeling of your presence, your just-here presence. Already fading. Just stay with me a little while longer.

crow stuff!

smart crows use cars to crack nuts: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGPGknpq3e0&feature=relatedcrow raises kitten: (dorky narration) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZjZQ6KkiUk&feature=related crow using and modifying tool: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TtmLVP0HvDg&feature=related 

two posts from Satom

Feb 9, 2007

Is it too late now to tell you I love you?

I had not seen you for quite some time since you left me and your family behind. A new world you created that did not include me…and I selfishly turned my back thinking you’d forget about me. You returned for a brief moment to say your goodbyes and how excited I was to finally see you. We had brunch in one of my favorite Pho restaurants as we chat about dreams, life, and the beautiful daughter you felt so proud of. The warmth in your eyes, the tenderness in your voice…not one sound of disappointment regarding your role in her life. She is the one thing in your life you felt you did right…a gift that you could offer to the world.

So much I wanted to say before we depart…but I couldn’t bring myself to utter those three words I longed to say and how much I had missed you so. I wanted to stay longer, insisting that its ok to miss my class, but you urged me to go making sure I wouldn’t be late. But inside, I desperately wanted to stay and hang out with you for a while, but I couldn’t tell you that! So instead, we shared a warm embrace before I finally left to go. I watched you lay peacefully to rest with a smile across your face for a nap, as I left feeling quite comforted in your peacefulness.

Three days later I heard you upstairs as I was hurrying myself to get to the hospital to meet my mom for her chemotherapy session. In my rush to leave, I didn’t get a chance to say hello, thinking I’d get a chance to see you again before you go. But the chance never came to say those words I could not say before. You were found the next morning, with a 26page letter detailing your pain…a gun wound that shook our world, leaving us stung with a multitude of emotions we are still struggling to comprehend.

Why did I not see the sorrow in your eyes? Why didn’t you tell me the pain you were suffering inside? You were my dear friend, my beloved mentor, my second father…so much we had shared since I was a teenage girl. Boys, relationships, and love! Evolution, science, math, and depression! Everything from me you heard it all! I would’ve wrapped my arms around you and tell you I love you. I would have wiped your tears away telling you I need you. I would have crossed the Atlantic to show you I care…but its too late now…you are no longer there.

May you rest in peace, my fatherly friend and mentor. I will think of you as I look above to see your eyes through your beloved black knights soaring in the sky. With all of my heart, I love you.

——–

October 26, 2007:

I couldn’t stop my tears from flowing as I was reading an article about the entrapments of our wild animals held captive in the zoos of our western civilization! Bob literally came to mind, as I find myself empty of the person who shared so much of his knowledge regarding the human quality of our neighboring friends (if they are ever allowed to be). He always spoke with such compassion and with high regards for the creatures we looked upon as savage, beastly, unintelligent…to the point they are a mere entertainment for our own self-centered views. Bob can go on for hours and hours with stories of animal behavior and I would listen with captivation, though at times my mind would wander out into space…but when my mind returns, I see him as enthusiastic as he first began! That’s what I so desperately miss…among the many unique qualities that makes Bob one of the most genuine, sincere, honest, and dearest friend I have been fortunate enough to meet in this life time. He is truly a rare find and will always remain in my heart as one of my greatest treasures.

Thanksgiving

I sent out invitations

To summer guests,

I collected together

All my friends,

Loud talk

And simple feasting:

Discussion of philosophy,

Investigation of subtleties.

Tongues loosened

And minds at one.

-Ch’eng-kung Su

3rd century Chinese poet

————-

Dear Friends,

I want to thank you all, today, on the day of Thanksgiving, for being, each of you, essential in my life. I am thankful for the time that we have had in the past, for the time we have today, and the times we will share in the future. I am thankful for the laughter we share, which I know reaches across oceans of life and death to those loving us from far away places.

May you be well, eat well, and laugh well.

love,

Robin

a few things you liked…and a few memories

Mustard with big seeds in it
Prairie home companion
Sparkly prisms, especially on the Christmas tree
Rocks with dips in them to hold water
The smell of cedar
Raspberries
Sharing granola with Wasko—Wasko would pick out all the cashews
Huckleberries—especially in the wild
Drinking from mountain creeks—fuck giarrdhea!!
The smell of dog feet (and ears too!)
Poetry and writing
Photography.
Like water for chocolate
Raspberry tart
Sour cherries
Flickers
Wool socks
The word “luscious”
Riding the wake of freighters on the kayaks
Laying on my bed and staying up with me while I packed
Meeting me at the airport
You used to always take me to the airport too. Up until a couple years ago, you had never missed one important departure or arrival. You loved to watch the plane depart, back before 911 when you could escort me to the gate.
What were some of your favorite flowers?
I know you loved vine maples, pruning, and the aesthetics of trees—especially maples.
You broke a tooth once on grandpa’s taffee
23rd birthday. The best birthday ever.
When I started to get boobs and was all embarrassed, we were on the way to the Thai Thai and mom brought it up and I turned scarlet. You were in the back seat. You said, “look, I’m getting boobs too!” And held up your shirt.
You always could smell spring coming. I think you loved that smell. And those salty days when you could smell the sound from the house. You also loved the alpine smell. I love that smell too.
Gray jays, and all their little noises.
You loved calamari at sunfish, and pad kee maw tele at Thai Thai.
You liked David Bruce wines, and a good chianti.
You liked putting your toes in cool mountain brooks.
You loved the tide pools—like opening a present.
You loved to watch the dog open presents.
You loved to get up early, especially when we were camping. You would always have something hot for me when I woke up.
Hun Huur Tu
You liked to throw rocks to try to hit a log out in the water
You loved la rustica and the little beach next to it.
You loved cream cheese pastries at the bakery at the bottom of the hill.
You loved to lie in the grass outside.
Ice cream—vanilla, or even better, vanilla with chocolate fudge in it.
Chocolate chips with peanuts—you said they were homemade Mr. Good bars
Tolkien’s Ring
King Solomon’s Ring, the Bat Poet, I heard the Owl call my name.
Hummus.
Geology
Carmelized nut mix
Those brownies you used to make. And the chewy chocolate chip bars.
I guess you did really have a sweet tooth. What were your favorite savory foods? I know you loved Thanksgiving, especially the cranberry part. You sure loved your berries.
You loved to sit awake with me on Christmas night and watch the Christmas tree.
Empire of the sun
My life as a dog, never cry wolf.
You liked to make Duncan howl.
You would get up running in the middle of the night if you heard Wasko squawk to save him from the raccoon or whatever predator.
I think we slept outside together a few times in the summer, with a tent sometimes, sometimes not.
One time, it was really windy, and we went down to Lincoln Park and went to the point, and opened up our coats to the wind to feel the lift.
Collecting greens for winter decorations at Lincoln park. Getting in a snowberry fight.
Silent thoughtful times on the beach together.
Swinging on the swings.
We saw a fox together once at the arroyos.
You liked to surprise mom with little treats, or having the house all picked up.
You liked to have all these little systems, and you liked to tell me about them. “see, I put this here, and then I just do this.”
You told me in Germany that you had seen me once wear my backpack on the front in order to find something in there (I do it a lot) and you said, “I never thought of that, and now I do it all the time.”
You liked to tell us all the exact measurements of what you had put into something if we were complimenting you on what you had cooked.
You liked your down vest, and your gray down jacket, rain hat, and you liked to have a walking stick.
Kitka, especially the song with the one low note.
Japanese art. Sumie
You liked women in red sweaters.
You loved my tattoo, and would show it off to everyone.
You liked to read Natural History.
You liked peanut butter cups, and so did I. Mom would say, “ugh, how can you guys eat that stuff!”
You liked going to the aquarium. Our favorite was to watch the puffins.
You loved that little town we went to in Canada, on Vancouver island.
You loved the museum of anthropology there.
Quark!
Flax seeds.
One time you itched your ear with the cordless phone antennae thingy, and then a few minutes later, talking to me distractedly, you accidentally put it in your mouth! Eew. Gross.
One time you farted in the van and then after a moment of reflection said, “you know,
everyone secretly likes the smell of their own farts.”
One time you sneezed in the van and it was stinky!! We laughed and you rolled down the window, and said, eew! Gross!
You liked to admire nice wooden fences around the neighborhood.
Shogun.
Akira kurasawa.
Dersu Uzala
Qoyannisquatsi
Italian for beginners
Henry V
You liked learning about the Civil War
You knew downtown really really well, especially the crow nests.
One time we were with a guy with the walkie-talkie—remember? Haha. Little dad standing next to a security guard who is talking through his walkie-talkie saying that there is a scientist here who needs help quarantining an area of the courtyard from activity in order to help a little scared crow.
You loved ALMOND desserts! Marzipan! The almond pastry cake they used to make at south seattle community college—another of your favorite spots.
I think you kind of enjoyed the fact that I liked to eat rocks and especially the fact that the “disorder” was called “pica”
You loved your butterfly shirt
It took me some time to love your butterfly shirt
You liked hemlocks.
You loved pike place market, the music, the smells, the food. You liked beecher’s tapenade, gyros! You loved the gyros. Souvlaki. Costa’s.
The shop—el quetzal? No, la tienda.
And another little shop—a woman who was selling traditional Guatemalan weaving.
You loved the stuff from Prae Pan, Thailand, that I brought you.
When you would say hi to Liz, you liked to stop by her house, you would say, “hiya Lizzie!”
You liked pele, rocky, paton, you really liked Gabriel. Other dog friends of yours—Gunter, mable,roxie (before my time).
Kip, Wasko, Quileut, Klickitat. Shi Shi and Chinook were some of your crows.
You would make a little clicking noise at the back of your mouth (right where you taste sour) that was actually pretty loud, and hold kibble out in your hand and toss it whenever you were summoning crows or jays.
Crow banding was fun with you.
And the crow count. With almond lattes.
When you came to visit at Bryn Mawr, ,you were so happy to see me you came running as soon as you saw me. I was really happy to see you too.
You often had a slightly runny nose, out of one nostril. You would sniff a lot in the winter.
You often got into the van, got yourself settled, closed your door, put the key in the ignition… before you noticed that I was locked out still.
If I slept too late in the morning before high school, you’d come down and rip the covers off me, and put them where I would have to get out of bed to retrieve them.
You wanted me to get exercise, to learn math, finances, to stand up for myself. Not to play with barbies.
You used to say, “that’s a nice fire.” Very satisfied, to every single fire we ever had.

Wasp Story From Sabine

When Bob visited us in Schwabmuenchen (small town where we live) in the end of August and in early September 2006 we went out for a long walk every day. One shiny day with blue sky (after a rather dark and rainy week) we arrived after some kilometers at a nice restaurant near a lake. The first leaves were yellow, the sun was at the western balcony of the restaurant and it was nice to sit there outside on the warm wooden benches. We both ordered (as usually when our family is visiting this place) Apfelstrudel, a kind of apple pie – but different. Bob drank milkcoffee and I took tea with a lot of lemon. For a while we just sat there enjoying the warmth, the lake, the birds and the wonderful place. Suddenly a wasp fell into my hot tea. Bob took his teaspoon and tried to rescue the insect from drowning and sat it on the wooden table. After a short time it flew away. Then Bob took a pencil and an old receipt from the place next to ours and started to write a chain of genetic signs (XX, XO, XY and others?) on the backside of the sheet. I left school 25 years ago – this is when I had my last Biology lessons afterwards I studied (History and German)  but on Bob’s sheet I recognized the wasp queen, the workerwasps but I didn’t understand whats going on with the male ones and the queen… Bob gave some (english) explanations and ended “Here you can see: The queen is the mother but also the sister of the working wasps. This is what clever students always recognize at once.” Was it because of the warm sun shining on my head? because of the language? I wasn’t Bob’s clever student….