Sometimes my brain not work right.

Making things make sense requires a type of effort and energy that I simply do not have at the moment and yet I’m compelled to type lovely little letters in ‘Times New Roman’ on a white screen glowing in my dark room under my down comforter in a ‘Word file’ titled “Document 1” with the sound of the fan and the meowing of a cat named ‘Go-Go’ and you may read on if you dare…

There is a chorus of some kind of chirping outside and I have no idea what from! Are there bugs here in Silverlake? A neighborhood dog seems to be aggravated at the sounds and is barking and the cars hum along on the 101.

I went to the beauty supply store and bought ingredients to mix my own hair color, I felt like a wonderfully mad scientist and the result is a very pleasing rich and coppery red. I also cut my own hair with some scissors and a hand mirror while leaning over my porch so as to let the bits drop over the edge. I’m pleased with this trim-and-tone and have received many compliments. If I can keep my hands away from a pair of clippers I think I’ll let it grow long again.

A guy came into the café this morning and chatted with me for about two hours. His theory is that everyone is meant to do something very specific and that when they realize what it is they will be amazing at it and it will energize them rather than drain them. He says you have to try lots of things to figure it out and that there are clues that can help you discover it. One, is noticing what things you do that people respond to positively, also, what things seem to serve others in a unique way and what things you are totally passionate about to the point where you could imagine doing them all the time. *He still seems to be trying to figure out his own thing, but I like his theory.

He also told me about how a lion kills a wildebeest in the most efficient manner so as not to die itself and that it requires "totally severity". He teaches self-defense and sells shampoo and might be doing an acting course at the Stella-Adler school. He’s huge and I’m pretty sure he could take out a wildebeest if need be.

I met a dog whose name is ‘Noodle’. He loves me because I gave him a piece of turkey. If only that worked on people. You would have to give me Tofurkey.

Reading about a book called “Connected” in the New York Times book review I learned that we really, really do take after the people in our lives and even the people in their lives in a very direct way. You have to read it to know what I mean because I don’t feel up to explaining it without quotes and I lent the article to a co-worker, but you really must read it and then tell me what you think. Especially fascinating in terms of online social networks. It struck me on a personal level in terms of 'cutting out' or 'letting go of' negative people in my life. Something I’ve never really made a practice of doing in the past. I tend to sort of love everyone for one reason or another but I’m learning that that isn’t exactly healthy or realistic and that I can’t just will people to be the best they can be, or whatever it is I want them to be (although I know on some level they are unique perfection and wholeness) there really are some meanies out there believe it or not! It sucks. Tangent. Apparently I’m sensitive. Mainly, I'm just realizing I'm not a victim in any way when it comes to the world around me, I don't have to take up with everyone who comes into my life if they're harming me in any way.

I watched “Jules and Jim” the Francoise Truffaut film, rented from the library, highly recommend it. Beautiful, complex, moving, philosophical, entertaining, tragic. They really don’t make movies like that these days.

Today I read about a women’s Shakespeare company and started to tear up with inspired emotion. I dork-out about stuff like that once in awhile.

The free clinic I went to today was another moment of true admiration and inspiration in my day. Women working in shitty buildings for low pay with poor un-insured patients in a non-glamorous, non-Grey’s-Anatomy-esque environment are my heroes today! The one who drew my blood had the lightest touch and smiled and chatted the whole time and the doctor who saw me felt like a cool aunt or a best friend’s mom and filled me in on some realistic pointers to a healthier lifestyle that I actually want to follow! She even told me I can drink the water here! (Everyone else is all obsessed with bottled) but I’m anti-bottled water anyway and I don’t notice any taste to our tap! I will be drinking this tap water joyfully and you can see if I die or not.

Speaking of which, I had this weird, gross thought about online graveyards, virtual headstones like little website memorials… Freaky. Don’t know where that one came from.

Do you think they’ll publish famous peoples’ Twitters in books when they die? I shudder.

In “Jules and Jim” I remember Jim saying something about a mentor telling him his job was to go out into the world and be curious. I’ve always wanted a mentor and I’ve always wished someone I could trust and respect would tell me what to do and I would love it if “being curious” was the job prescribed. Well, no such luck, it’s me, myself and I (and you) and if no mentor will have me then I will run wild like the crazy wildebeest I am! Besides, I’ve already appointed myself the job of curiosity and observation and I am my boss and I say, “good work, Shakti! You shall have a raise! It’s not in the form of money but, uh, well, it’s a raised glass of tap water! Carry on brave adventurer!”

Over and out.

Wait, one other thing. Just so you know the reason the lion has to attack so precisely is because the wildebeest could very easily kill the lion. It's a moment of life or death, total commitment and the attacker has to be completely on target. We're all capable of "going for the throat". Not in a violent or killing sense, I wonder what positive things I can be that precise and severe about, wasting time throwing punches in the air is starting to take it's toll. Wait, am I the lion now? Oh dear...

Take Heart. Give Love.

The temperature gets better every day. I’ve found a job. I’ve been upgraded from weeks of sleeping on the floor to a borrowed air mattress (as of yesterday)! Henry has a full tank of gas and got a much-needed bath and when I got in him to drive to the library today, Fleetwood Mac came on the radio! Things are really looking up! Soon I’ll have a real mattress on the floor, and who knows, maybe one day a bed frame too!

I’ve been working on some paintings that I don’t hate (yet) and I’ve never posted my artwork on here, I don’t think, but I’m going to today. Why not, I guess. I woke up thinking about how nice it was to sleep a few inches off the ground and then about this memory of a horse I made. I don’t want to spend every blog talking about me, myself and I, in fact, now that things are less dramatic around here I’ll probably be writing about the world around me more. But since I’m mostly still alone, I can’t help but hear the voice in my head and for some reason it wants to tell you this story:

I don’t really know how old I was, maybe around 9? 10? Not sure, but I had discovered horses and I was in love. We lived in the country so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility physically, however, financially it was a crazy dream to dream. I helped out at a stable in exchange for riding lessons and I fell in love with a horse named Roam. He was a beautiful rust red with a white blaze on his forehead and we understood each other. Out of my obsession grew the desire to possess him but since I couldn’t buy him I decided to make my own version. I just wanted to be with him! I dug around in my dad’s tool shed and found supplies and scraps and started building.

The most important thing to me was that I could actually sit on this model horse so it needed to be sturdy and structurally sound. The torso was fashioned from a big plastic bucket that I stuffed to prevent from bending and cracking. I nailed it onto four pieces of wood and added another one for the neck and head. Once this skeleton was constructed I covered the body in chicken wire and then molded paper mache over it. I wanted to cover him in fuzzy fabric from the fabric store, but it was too expensive so my mom helped me pick out the perfect shade of house paint, brownish yarn made the mane and tail.

The horse was a success! He looked a little stumpy, like some kind of reddish elephant-horse, but to me, he was magnificent! He was strong enough to put a saddle on and ride and to have seen my vision come to life was a satisfying triumph! Later we ended up adopting two horses that were near the end of their lives, it was a great experience having them and taking care of them and I can’t help but wonder if my innocent (and slightly crazy) child’s imagination helped manifest them into reality. The detail I remembered today however, the thing that I woke up thinking about was the littlest part of my red horse.

When we were young, my sisters and I would sometimes cut tiny holes in our stuffed animals and implant little jewels or trinkets to give them “hearts”. Roam got a heart too. In the center of all the stuffing in the bucket, before the layers of wire and mache I planted a tiny, pink, heart-shaped chewable vitamin. This little heart didn’t pump blood and it was no bigger than my thumbnail but somehow, it worked. He had a heart and he loved me. When I think of that little heart I can see it. I can smell it. I can taste it. When I think of that little heart I think, “so this is love...” A child’s heart is less discriminating than that of a world-weary heart and it's easier for a child to love. But we all have something in us, not the chewable vitamin variety, but something much more powerful and amazing and every heart, every heart, every heart is capable of infinite love. Give it freely.

And of course, take your vitamins!