tell me where it hurts

i busted my foot. i strained my arch.
HA!

so perfect. when i was in the south of france a few years ago, i almost cut my finger off.
so my hosts read me a book called "Tell me where it hurts and i will tell you why"
It was about locating the source of your injury in the meaning of your body parts.

I am trying to walk. so hard. I'm not even paying attention to my feet.

I need new shoes. new shoes to walk in. appropriate shoes that are for MY feet.
shoes that will tae me where i want to go.
shoes for me.

my base is wobbling. I'm way too big for this. im like a t-rex in tap shoes. ridiculous.

its time to face my feet.

sometimes I wish I could look at the whole thing all around and sometimes I dont want to look at all.

heres one thing im sure of: I am so wonderfully and tenderly loved.
thank you dear.
*d

weary blues from waitin'

I'm thinking of some hybrid blues experiments.

Totes my Boyf

YOU LOVED ME BEFORE

Do YOU LOVE ME NOW?

more aligned

here's some good news:

your relationship to the world is yours.

Touch things gently.
eat things slowly.
Watch them carefully.
feel for the spiders and flies.

know, and un-know, and never know.

learning gentleness in a quieter state.

hoping to bring some home and see how it feels against the tangerine paisley miniskirt of my hometown.

affirmations

Monster Chicken: Let’s talk about affirmations right now. Before we can become self-affirming, we need to learn about the effects of negativism in our lives.

Miniature Housewife: Ok.

Monster Chicken: You only have power in the now.

Miniature Housewife: Ok, sure. Right. Yes.

Monster Chicken: It is only your thoughts that can prevent you from achieving your dreams and a thought can be changed.

Miniature Housewife: Mmmm.

Monster Chicken: Excuse me?

Miniature Housewife: Nothing. NO-I mean, I’m just thinking.

Monster Chicken: Right.
Are you doubting yourself?

Miniature Housewife: NO!

Monster Chicken: You don’t have to lie. Lying. Is. Well. Not going to get you anywhere.

Miniature Housewife: Well I’m not really lying. Ok. I’m sorry. I mean, yes. YES!
I am a good woman.

Monster Chicken: Now we’re talking

Miniature Housewife: I am allowed to be happy

Monster Chicken: Sure.

Miniature Housewife: I am a success story

Monster Chicken: Ok.

Miniature Housewife: I deserve the best.

Monster Chicken: Well obviously!

Miniature Housewife: I am going to go beyond my wildest dreams.

Monster Chicken: Um…

Miniature Housewife: All I need is Me!

Monster Chicken: Hey!

Miniature Housewife: I am making a commitment to change

Monster Chicken
STOP! Hold on--- ( We hear Monster Chicken looking for something. She finds it, it is a cell phone. She dials it, It rings. The miniature housewife hears the ringing. It is coming from inside the package that was delivered earlier. She looks at it. She reaches for it and opens it carefully. Inside there is a large egg shaped thing. It is pink. Like a pill. It is ringing. She reaches in the box and it continues to ring. She tries to open it. She cannot. She smells it. It keeps ringing. She tries to taste it discreetly with her tongue. It is very bitter. Finally she says…Hello?

Monster Chicken: Bacterial Vaginosis!

Married women are sharing this secret.the new easier, surer protection for those most intimate marriage problems.

baby flavored ice cream

happy new year.
this is when i harness my pride
and dance backwards into my wildest dreams.
a bird in a dress, a mop on top.
In love with the house. the house bride.
scream scream baby flavored ice cream.
meow.
*betsy

Can Opener

I can sit at a window for hours
I can knit a sweater for a century, a real warm one
I can sneak through the house with a pan of hot cookies
I can churn a batch of butter and stack 100 pancakes on the porch swing before sunrise.
I can frost a three-layer apple cake with corners as sharp as stone.
I can set the table for 700 guests without a fork out of place
I can reach through a microwave and feel the inside of the pork roast
I can wear the dress and still have room for pie.
I can have a cocktail with three olives
I can line the wall with my skin, its made of flowers
I can list the week in meals in under 30 seconds
I can hit the mark every time with a fly swatter
I can order a Bloody Mary just after noon
I can pump the longing with my own vein in hand
I can open your heart with a can opener
I can teach you the alphabet with my skirt down
I can drive the family car into the dam and hop up over the fence
with scissors in my hand
I can run with a hot casserole

This is a marathon of epic portions
This is a congratulations feast of microwaveable meatballs
This is a parade of jerky and pies
A parade of remembrance:

Remembering a time when there was no instant potatoes
A time before outer-space, a time before compressed diner tables
When daddy wasn’t flying around the moon, aiming to shoot down all the martians
A time when daddy made us cornbread and braided your hair and kissed you and you slept like a bird
You never had to wake up to make sure he was still there, there was no outer space.
The food took as long as food is
The middle of the hearth was not radioactive. The sides still cold and gelatinous in the crock pot.
What if you were in the microwave? What if it missed you heart? Your arms and legs singed with your frozen heart hanging in the middle.

The gravity on earth is not really made for the robot pop corn now is it?
We should just stick to the corn, on the husk, on the stalk, in the sleeves of paper standing like slender blondes in rows weaving secrets.

dog love

my sister got a new dog.
this is important news

ouch, i think i found it.

Warnings:

Travel warnings
Product warnings
Weather warnings
Traffic warnings
Food warnings
Global warnings
Emotional warnings
Viral warnings

Oh dearest of worlds, i climbed a soft mountain and at the top was the most incredible view. i saw two whole continents, and the ocean between them and i had to wake up to remind myself not to be afraid. of the height, and the view, and the height and the view. And that i may fall. that i am falling. that there is no landing pad.

kin

My sister came to visit us in kansas.

kansas xmas.

beautiful, strange, weather.

I made a thousand candies.
we wore the chocolate on our faces.
chocolate zombies.
ice storm

MAGIC

Today I went to the bank and I got involved with the two tellers at the bank in a conversation about how the world is really poor right now, yes, but it's ok because I just watched Harry Potter and it was Christmas in the last movie and he went to the Weasley's house and they don't have anything really, but they love each other and they got sweaters and scarves for x-mas and it was beautiful and warm and good. And then I said, yes, and Harry is also a magician, at which point, Ben suggested that "Magician" might be a derogatory term for what Harry Potter really is : A WIZARD.

Then when I left the bank, I looked at my receipt closely and the teller who had been depositing my checks accidentally entered an extra 800 dollars into my account.

**MAGIC**

I sat there for awhile trying to figure out what would happen if i just didn't say anything about it.

Turns out that sometimes all you have is honesty, even if your just a lowly magician.

p.s. I love you universe.

Snow Day

It's snowing.
I'm getting serious.
I guess it's time to grow up. Sounds fun.
This is what we ate for dinner on Thanksgiving. we had a lovely feast for two.
Then we went to the Bourgeois Pig for a warm holiday beverage.
There are some very sweet folks in Lawrence, KS.

the house we are contemplating

this is what the house looks like now.

we are contemplating our desires.

of course we want a house.

but do we want it HERE?

We do what we can.

we are incredibly strong.
we lifted those trees just the two of us.

I thought it couldn't be done. But then it was.

Building a house. thats so much more than it sounds like.

*D

brewing a stone of momentum

I want to ask you a question?
How slow can you go?
How slow will you go?
For a tangle?
For a soft night, everyday?
For a way of doing things that are unforgettable?
Will you do it seriously.
Serious.
One time I was so mad I died.
I just laid down and died. I was so mad.
I was a somad. A soman. A snowman.
I was published by the ghosts of people who might die in the future.
I mean, they are more likely to die than others, in the future.
I guess the near future. If there is any other kind let me know.
The far future. The far out future. I doubt it.

So obstinate. I just don’t know what story to tell you.
I do it all myself.
I don’t believe in commerce.
But oh I love it so.
I don’t believe in money, but I do believe in restaurants.
Oh my love, I believe in wine bars.
I believe in the saturation of my sensual tolerance.
I believe in my body as the bearer of very expensive and beautiful clothing.
Hello. I believe in shoes.
I believe in escape. And ice cream.

doll of myself

gladness

mostly.

even though

things are insanely:

wierd

hard

uncertain

scary

confusing

insane...

I still have lots of hope. And everything I need is with me now. Everything we need is with us now.
Sending out a huge wave of generosity, gladness and support:

*betsy heavens

DRIVE

I have this fucking most annoying problem in the world.

And this problem is that if I do not drive a car I pretty much can't do anything and sonow I'm roughly about 14 years old.

I can drive the damn car. ok. I can back the car up in a straight line. I can turn my windshield wipers on. I can park.

I can stop at the stop sign.

I can probably just shut up and drive.

But I am pissed off about it.

I am pissed off that I am being held hostage by this.

I want to take the bus. I want to sit next to a junky retard on the 14 mission and get there for a dollar.

There are no sidewalks for feet with people attatched here. I just feel really resentlful that everything is made for cars. And even if I can drive and park and get out and pay and eat and leave in my car...what the f. you know?

I CANNOT walk there. there are no street lights. It's 15 miles away. I would die. Literally. I would literally die.

So maybe I'm just a big cry baby pussy pants who doesn't know exactly how to drive and that makes me really kind of an asshole. Im almost 25 years old for god's sake.

But as my deadline approaches and I get ready to take my permit test and then my stupid driving test, I just want to say once and for all, before I bend under the stupid rules that I totally HATE. Before I agree to kiss ass for the rest of my life and before I lose my ability to gage how far I think I can walk....I want to say this.

HOW BOUT YOU KISS MY ASS YOU LAZY SON OF A BITCH TRUCK DRIVIN' MOTHERFUCKER HILLBILLY ASS -HOLE AND GET OUT OF YOUR HOT ROD AND WALK.

WALK.

I LIKE TO WALK.

See you all on the road. I don't plan on having so much road rage.

love,
danielle

being perfect again

i think i gave birth to myself. here's what's wierd about it:

When you are pregnant with yourself it's really tangible. you feel full. full of yourself, not in the usual sense of those words, but you feel it. really. you just want to pop all the time. and you want things you never wanted before and you dream new ideas and most of all you spend time imagining yourself. You imagine what you might look like, what you might say or like or be like.

But the birthing experience, the actual labor is kind of bizarre. it's definately not tangible. it's a process. it takes a little while. im not talking like 72 hours, i mean like a month. A month of personal labor. i think i need a new emotional vagina. i cant believe my husband still even likes me. what a freak show.

I'm serious though. When you give birth to yourself, when you give yourself that labor, you are dialating yourself, you are turning yourself inside out so that you can be alive. its almost unbearable, and you think you'd probably rather die than finish it off. thank you. and even now, in the after-whatever of the birth, the infant of me is so small and vulnerable and sort of blank, that i can hardly tell it's there. Especially because of the big me who is supposed to provide for that little me. the big me is still there, maybe we'll trade places and we'll merge together. But I sort of thought that when I was born, I would dissappear into that new me. But it doesn't work that way.

i still have to grow up. except this time, i get to do it to myself. i get to grow myself up. so right when i thought i was all done with this big huge job of carrying myself around forever and then fucking squeezing myself out, now i have to be gentle with myself. i have to make sure i do it right.
i guess i should say a GET to be gentle with myself. i get to go slowly. i get to marvel slowly at the new world around the new me thing. i can do it right, and i will do it right, because i am a total autonomous universe in and of myself. and i know everything there is to know. even from the moment the first me was born.

i was born perfect.
i was born perfect again.
you were born perfect.
so be perfect again.

*d

dont try this at home

the concept

The Miniature Housewife is a solo performance /spectacle exploring the enduring cultural fantasy of the homemaker. In a deliciously surreal landscape, a tiny woman whose apron labels her “Mini” tries to create pretty, precise, and practical meals in a kitchen full of enormous recipes and implements. Battling all kinds of size and shape problems, “Mini” confronts her self worth, her physical capacity and her emotional power. This piece admits a real desire to be the perfect little woman in an overwhelming and unattainable environment. Mini reminds us that women are still being hypnotized by images of pure, elaborate, breathtaking feats of efficiency and grace in a world full of increasing economic turmoil, enduring misogyny and absurd social laws. She lets us fantasize about the cleanest, coziest, neatest, most comfortable and alluring home we can imagine. But this home is not simply the door we open and close everyday, it is the space we move in, the cultural sphere we try to hold around ourselves. It is the shield of sanity and pleasure against the violence and unknowns of our real homes and gardens.