9/12/08 the end of something- all the tori i've got

today i am taking things down and weeding things out. pictures off walls, cards off mirrors. old shirts stolen from exes that haven't been worn in years, but continue to follow me around from apt. to apt. i am sorting through old notes, and handmade birthday cards and cd mixes. ancient love letters, stacks of polaroids, lists and lists of old song ideas with possible capo positions scribbled precariously in corners. i am sifting through a collection of trinkets and gifts and memories that, when put together, make a pretty good map of the last 15 years of my life.
there's a duct tape wallet made by a mills woman who sang opera for me in the practice room of our dorm, many many evenings.
there are 2 bottles of bubbles given to me by an adorable 16-year-old boy with cerebral palsy who thought we might enjoy playing kid in a park one day.
i have a gigantic piece of black netting knotted around a silver ring that i kept fiercely clenched in my fist, and close to my heart, for a 3,000 mile drive because it helped me remember the eyes of a bird who took my breath away completely, one night at the orchards.

post cards.
mixes.
decks of cards, missing jokers.
the notebook i shared with my best friend in high school.

all of these things looking back at me curiously, as i look at them, and consider where they might live from now on.

the plan is not to rid myself of these gems altogether.

they are gems, after all.
gifts.

the plan is to see them. to KNOW each and every piece for a moment. to feel ever person connected to them as close as i can, and to SEE those folks too, as clearly as my heart will allow.
the plan is to run fingers over everything.
the plan is to let all of it seep deeply into every cell.
the plan is to breathe in what it means to have been loved, and then breathe out all of these things, and THIS, that i feel grateful for.

the plan is to make room.
the plan is to make space.
the plan is to say yes, and cast all eyes forward.
the plan is to survey what's ahead and give the rear view mirror a rest for a while.

it is funny listening to all of this tori today. so many albums, so many songs, so many vibes and moods and sounds that trigger so many different people. it seems she has put her stamp on every soundtrack for every period of my life. "caught a light sneeze" was with me, mostly in headphones, when i lived at bella bru and eban taught me how to blow spit bubbles. "jupiter" sat with thelma and i on the hood of her white ford sedan as we considered the truth to all of the rumors that swirled around us that first year in mary morse. "concertina" allowed my heart direct access to thelma later, when i moved to virginia. "siren" lit the way for months as i drove home late from town to free union years ago, and recently reappeared in a mix made for me, causing chills and blurry eyes as i drove towards vallejo on highway 37. "big wheel" played loudly while i nervously trimmed the locks of a love i barely knew, and "beauty of speed" puts me right behind the clark art museum for some cricket hunting...
"bouncing off clouds" hands me an american spirit and a loving glance from T, before taking in a dusky williamstown horizon one final time.

so appropriate that tori is sound tracking this, now. i put all of her i have into one massive play list totaling just under 15 hours, pressed shuffle, then pressed play. it is good that there is so much to listen to. it will take me at least that long to visit all that there is to visit today before closing doors to open new ones.

i can feel it.
this day marks the end of something. the end of an era. the end of chapters that have remained open and wide for some time. and, these that are closing now will always be somewhere near, always come before, always inform, and always be remembered as how all things now came to be.
they will pulse on forever.
only a little quieter, and a little wiser now.
rich with experience, as informers are meant to be.

journal