Dangerous Compassions


Ming said something I didn’t understand.  “Did you just say something about the Spice Girls?” I asked.

“Spy squirrels.”

“Spy squirrels?  Spice Girls?  Is that the same thing?”

Our friend G was over again, binding zines.  I sang them two songs, a Buddha song and a Mother song specific to the sect I did.  We ate candy.  We talked about teaching, what meltdowns feel like.  We played Situation Game.  They are a natural.

I was feeling happy.  I held some rocks.  Two kinds of jasper.

Lately eating is a bit of a challenge.  My appetite comes and goes.  I feel weird about salt.  Salt seems too much.  For the first time, I’m eating avocados without salt.  It’s strange.

Ming and I had long conversations about important topics like relationship assumptions, how he likes to interact with different people, death and the responsibilities of parents and spouses to prepare their kids and spouses for life without them.  We have very different perspectives on death.  I think it’s way overly avoided, while Ming thinks the opposite, maybe.  Well, I think we’re going to make a zine about it. 

How predictable!  Have ideas–make zine.  Have problem–make zines.  Have experience–make zine.  Well, hopefully you don’t mind, reader.

Saving seeds is one of my favorite things, so I took a picture of Ming saving okra seeds a few days ago.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *