new environs
My long-time love-bird buddies Belinda and Michael just smudged the heck out of my apartment the weekend. If you're not aware of what smudging is, it's the act of using burnt sage to ward off evil spirits and bad energy. For good measure they passed through the place with some smoldering sweet lemon grass as well. The outcome: an apartment that now emits the odor of a Phish concert mosh pit-- that is to say pot and sweat.
I'm not dissing them of the ritual of course, but I can't help but wonder if it's merely the smell in of itself that keeps the bad ju-ju out! I went out to do laundry and the essence of "Otto's Jacket" was just so strong that I had to step out for a bit which does make me wonder if perchance *I* am a bad spirit. Maybe I've been emulating so much negativity lately that my own spiritually attuned apartment didn't even want me around. After a good 12 hours of contemplating the possibility of this and some additional soul searching, I came home to a sweet smelling apartment (the scent of brand new bamboo floors and paint come to mind) once again. I guess I've purged whatever baggage I needed and now am ready to start my new life.
I've got a box of crystals sitting on the coffee table. Quarts and rutile, mica, purplelite, tourmaline...lots of pretty shiny things glittering at me waiting to find a home somewhere on my CD shelf. They'll serve as category markers. I spent a good bulk of Friday with another old friend sorting and categorizing 4 large boxes of my beloved music collection while sipping on Chianti and Merlot. "Is Octopus Project experimental or indie? What the fuck is Option 30??? Why do you own so much Madonna?"
And of course, there was ample conversation throughout the night, prompted by a song, an image or even a publication year from these CDs. As 3 am rolled around and the wine was now replaced with shared tobacco, our conversation turned to the existence of God and how to model Him mathematically. Of course we live in a nested set... This was when I knew for sure that I managed to reclaim an old part of me buried and lost for so long. We greeted the late night clubbers coming home as they pulled into the parking lot below. University students pretty much talk to anyone and even though my friend and I are both a decade older than the "kids" it seemed to make no difference, or perhaps we still look youthful? I dunno...
But back to my box of pretties: The amassed collection of crystals came from Belinda and Michael over the years. As a couple they go digging for quarts specimens in Arkansas and frequently bring back gorgeous pieces. Such kind gifts meaningful to me as I was a major rock hound as a kid and eventually got a gemology degree later in life.
Except for polaroid that I accidentally left in one of my CD cases and a framed series of my boots, I didn't bring any pictures with me which is quite unusual. In fact, my environs are quite stark by Cindy standards, but I like it. Without the clutter and just a few items within reach to amuse me, I find that I have this new sense of clarity and contentment even if I do feel alone at times. It just truer to who I am.
I'm not dissing them of the ritual of course, but I can't help but wonder if it's merely the smell in of itself that keeps the bad ju-ju out! I went out to do laundry and the essence of "Otto's Jacket" was just so strong that I had to step out for a bit which does make me wonder if perchance *I* am a bad spirit. Maybe I've been emulating so much negativity lately that my own spiritually attuned apartment didn't even want me around. After a good 12 hours of contemplating the possibility of this and some additional soul searching, I came home to a sweet smelling apartment (the scent of brand new bamboo floors and paint come to mind) once again. I guess I've purged whatever baggage I needed and now am ready to start my new life.
I've got a box of crystals sitting on the coffee table. Quarts and rutile, mica, purplelite, tourmaline...lots of pretty shiny things glittering at me waiting to find a home somewhere on my CD shelf. They'll serve as category markers. I spent a good bulk of Friday with another old friend sorting and categorizing 4 large boxes of my beloved music collection while sipping on Chianti and Merlot. "Is Octopus Project experimental or indie? What the fuck is Option 30??? Why do you own so much Madonna?"
And of course, there was ample conversation throughout the night, prompted by a song, an image or even a publication year from these CDs. As 3 am rolled around and the wine was now replaced with shared tobacco, our conversation turned to the existence of God and how to model Him mathematically. Of course we live in a nested set... This was when I knew for sure that I managed to reclaim an old part of me buried and lost for so long. We greeted the late night clubbers coming home as they pulled into the parking lot below. University students pretty much talk to anyone and even though my friend and I are both a decade older than the "kids" it seemed to make no difference, or perhaps we still look youthful? I dunno...
But back to my box of pretties: The amassed collection of crystals came from Belinda and Michael over the years. As a couple they go digging for quarts specimens in Arkansas and frequently bring back gorgeous pieces. Such kind gifts meaningful to me as I was a major rock hound as a kid and eventually got a gemology degree later in life.
Except for polaroid that I accidentally left in one of my CD cases and a framed series of my boots, I didn't bring any pictures with me which is quite unusual. In fact, my environs are quite stark by Cindy standards, but I like it. Without the clutter and just a few items within reach to amuse me, I find that I have this new sense of clarity and contentment even if I do feel alone at times. It just truer to who I am.
Labels: apartment
posted by cchang at 11:31 PM
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