Even remotely delightful.

Oh tiny rainy California, thanks. Though two weeks of seeing people, no other plans, somehow never allows for as much time as one'd like with each-- still I got to see my family and some beloved friends, and phew thank goodness I did. The facts be that though I live in a sweet sitch in Madrid, home/reality/whatever is wherever my loved ones are. And a family is becoming, not just had. My family is becoming a family better at accepting itself. Thank you for all of you welcoming me.

Saturday and Sunday back in Madrid were pretty unreal feeling, really, but Monday I had three classes with sweethearts and felt much more present. Ivan made dinner and Ewan bought the bread and he and I cleaned up--charming, normal, sustainable.

All of a rush home: a hole in the clouds! I LOVE to fly cntnntl: they feed me meat and white bread and iceberg lettuce and something sweet, they give me a wee scratchy cushion an ugly blue blanket. Sometimes they pay me to bump myself from a flight! Cntnntl!




Sun flowers sun windows--but days and days of rain.




A behind the scenes shot of Posie's dance-date-distortion art project, which can be viewed on facebook.




Mama kept all her hair on for my arrival. It washed mostly off all of a sudden one evening. She put all the clumps on a paper towel and we all came and witnessed. I can't imagine not having been there. Hair loss should maybe be the least of cancer, under the pain and the exhaustion and the fear, but its visual impact is significant. The woman without hair is the image of cancer, and mama is not otherwise the image of cancer. She's tired, but she looks healthy, so I think the hair loss was something we all needed to see.

Here, with hair and flowers:



Hi, Beautiful.




Hey!



5 days went swimming by and I got no pictures of Monroe! Said Ma: "Oh, so it's like he was never here." Mmph.