Trees

I think I was a tree in a past life. Seriously. I think about trees all the time, their leaves and curling branches, the way they sway in the wind and whisper-yell. I keep thinking faeries are going to leap out at me from them -- to haunt me or give me a big hug:) Lately, I keep reading stories, and hearing about, all these things involving people turning into trees or vice versa. Granted, some of these are from the Green Man book, but these other little symbols keep popping up (the card of the Green Lady, my conversation in Barnes & Noble with two of the clerks). In any case, it really all goes back to: that darned pagan part of my personality; being f-in' terrifed of the Evil Tree in Poltergeist; my fascination with the film The Wisdom of Crocodiles and Jude Law's fall from the branches; Enya's album The Memory of Trees (such a haunting title); and so much more....When I don't think people are peeking, I like to go up to trees and kiss them, or scrape my fingers over the bark. I'm also a big fan of sniffing flowers and kissing them, too. Yep, that's me: Mr. New Age-y Cheesefest. Voila!

Garlands

As I mentioned to Ben yesterday, God and I have had some amazing talks lately where I've picked up the coffee tab and she's left fabulous tips. There is something so beautiful, and a touch melancholy, about hanging Christmas ornaments. It's decadent and magical and gaudy and safe all at the same time. I loved hanging lights with Mom on Saturday, fetching Santa, Joseph, Mary, and Baby Jesus--along with those huge wooden carolers--to display outside. Everything felt crisp, clear, and chilly. Tori's song "Garlands" has been one of my Life Songs these past few months, and that song really came into Nathan Play this weekend....the talk of mimosas, the hanging of actual garlands, me chomping on a pirouette and digesting its yummy metaphor....I've had the strangest dreams lately: vampire creatures haunting me in hospitals and office buildings that take the shape of carnival funhouses....riding escalators (I dream about escalators a lot)....mermaids and faeries and poltergeists all trying to get my attention with their stories. I think I can safely say that this is a point in my life where I feel extremely confident, kinda terrified, vulnerable, and more strong than ever. I feel sexy, boyish, and joined. I'm definitely coming to terms--and falling in love with--dichotomy.

Trust

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Trust is the sexiest word. I can't think of a better quality in a human being. I've decided this is the word that will mean the most to me with men, and it's also the word I want to apply to myself, my life, the way I treat others. So there.

Wednesday was so bizarre. Two things:

1) I'm walking downtown, and I turn onto a street to throw out my coffee cup and I see an ambulance; the medics; lights flashing; a man doing CPR--white latex gloves on his hands--and he's just pushing, pushing, pushing onto this man's chest on this bench, and the man's chest is collapsing and rising, and I was shocked by how doll-like he seemed. My thought process in 1.5 seconds: Do I move forward and toss this coffee cup into the trash and let the natural progression of life & death happen and then keep moving? Do I stop and stare like these other folks? What if I toss my cup in the trash and it makes a clinking sound and in that split second the medic flinches and then does something a beat off and the man dies because of it? So I turned around and didn't meet the eyes of the other people staring, and I found a garbage can on the next block.

2) I'm waiting to have my consultation with the tattoo artist at Tiger Lily, and these two giggly young women are waiting for the one to get her tattoo. I ask if it's her first, and she gushes, yes, she's excited, and then she goes back for her tattoo, and when she comes back, she's just glowing. She says loudly and cutely, "It's exactly what I wanted!" and then, as the artist is ringing things up, she shuffles quickly over to me and whispers in my ear (so adorable), "Am I supposed to tip him?" I say like a pro, "Yep," and nod in a "I totally know what I'm talking about" kind of way, and then she leaves him this huge tip. It was such a pure, innocent moment. She and I had a brief glitter-connection.

Thursday--yesterday--is one of the weirdest days I've ever had in my life. It involved: J's Circle, and Laura showing me the drawings they'd made, and the colors that reminded J of me (brown, orange, green) and how--inside the print of his hands--he saw a lizard in a tree and a dragon breathing fire. I shared with everyone the story of visiting J in the hospital and seeing his spirit for a split second, that pure part of him just bursting open and smiling and telling me everything will be okay. Thursday also involved hugs and chocolate and drinks with Marianna, writing a message for B-Diddy and plunking it inside one of the art sculptures at Crush. They have these cool structures with latches and gadgets, and paper with with pens, and you can leave messages for people! How strange: I was with B-Diddy on Saturday, and we had coffee at this amazing coffee shop (tables that move, things hanging from wires from the ceiling, a kayak, stuffed animal, and mannequins in the bathroom) and up in this said bathroom were pens and pads of paper, and you could write messages there, too, and then stick them to the walls and furniture. So I wrote something to the effect of, "I won't ever date a man who doesn't believe in mermaids." Mermaids, and mermen, have been on my mind a lot lately. Guess I'll have to search in Tori's apple orchards for the significance of this. Also yesterday: Talking with Aaron for an hour while wandering through the graveyard off Belmont and Morrison, and this man had these dogs who were running gracefully through the cemetery. The air smelled crisp, and I was in awe of all the different languages on the gravestones, and I sat by this one grave with this beautiful cherub and these fake but bright flowers. Finally, to end my weirdness, I stopped by and saw Ben, and at the end of us hanging out I said, "I really want you to see my back before I get my new tattoo," and he said he was thinking the same thing. We shared this really raw, vulnerable moment and I knew that he was going to be the last person to see me without my ode to my mother and to Grandma Nellie trailing down below my left shoulder blade. It felt right.

This morning, after writing, I just lay on the ground and cried to Trespassers William because I feel so weird about things right now, and I just cried and it felt wonderful, and I feel J all around me, sifting through the air, making shapes above me.

Violent Perfumes

I never, ever do this. But I need to. Here is my poem, "Violent Perfumes." I don't know how else to cleanse my palate today. This is dedicated to Bruce Springsteen, and to Juan:

violent perfumes

conjure me your Datura
your plaid pants and your chalk stains
those hopscotch games and tightrope dames
i’ve always been a witness, never witless
to the way you burned my sidewalk

under lighthouses i search for you
up above too, inside their burnt-out bulbs
on the rocks i find the sirens’ corpses
throats slit
heads shaved
androgynous
a feast of silence for the Flying Dutchman

if only i could bring you to my shore
implore you to exist, to forgive me for making you loveless
i’ve never been one to ask for a new identity crisis
but i just might be willing, if you take me shopping
if you lure me into malls after hours

we’ll dance with department store mannequins
wash our hair in shadowy salons
burn VHS tapes with ’80s memories
unburn books both pagan and witch-like

splash violent perfumes
inside the shapes of our changing organs

we are shattered
we are perfume
we whisper sex but shout war
we’d rather chop the tree of knowledge
than Taste it, this apple, this fig

my gig as your role-playing lover
has left me both Everlost and infinite
some mermaids prefer kissing sharks
but this ocean is getting a touch too bloody for my tastes

taste me, my nectar
my emotional cigarette tendencies
i’m not as decided as Mother and Child
though i long to be inside their portrait
their stolen breast-feeding moments

lunchboxes
cartons of milk
chewed straws and recess wannabes
you slip vodka into my carton
until i’m left drunk on regret
where i can’t decide on brawns or brains

these bloodstains are shaped like your yardsticks
rulers never held this heart
only pierced it with letter openers
that can never find a home

one day we’ll meet again, in our lighthouse
our angels won’t be tied down by cords
but will fly with feather wings
not cardboard ones
not kindergarten attempts at Picasso

together we’ll replace the bulbs
as friends we’ll invite sailors and captains to our tables
we’ll chisel at the rocks
so their ships reach us safely

next time:
no sirens to kill
only their beached cousin banshees
and boys in sheets at Halloween
our ghostly playmates
i’ll cut them eyeholes with dull scissors
and hope i don’t nick any last parts
that remember innocence as more than fiction


Copyrighted by Nathan Buck 2006.

Doogie Howser Inspirational Message Contest (and please see photo below)

First things first: Thanks to Lizzy for an amazing night last night. I enjoyed our conversation, and I'm glad Gizmo (in the form of my backpack) was able to join us. You were just the person I needed to see and talk to, and I'm glad we shared what we did.

Now....Yes, it's true, Doogie Howser (or, you know, Neil Patrick Harris) has come out of the closet! Wow. Look at his hair in the photo below! He sure has matured into a delicious man. I got me a Howser-crush.

I can't help but relate to you all how Jordan and Aaron ALWAYS would talk over Doogie typing his inspirational messages. My cheeseball part of my nature loved those sayings back in the seventh grade....the way that synthesizer music (Go Casio!) would play in the background, and Doogie would do the head tilt thing, and figure out JUST the right thing to write to sum up the 30 minute episode. I used to take those messages to heart and try to apply them to my life. But Jordan and Aaron, being the annoying younger siblings they were, would purposefully talk, or shout, or start humming just to piss me off! I got to re-live my Doogie days in Corvallis, when I purchased Season One on DVD. Wow. I didn't realize how cheese-a-riffic this show is! Seriously. I love it. Wanda was always my favorite character, and I do have to say--in all seriousness--that the plotlines with her losing her mother really got to me (get to me still) and grounded the show in a really powerful way.

So, yeah, congrats to NPH for coming out -- you rock, dude. Keep it real!

I have a mission for you all -- those I know and those who have stumbled on this site. I am going to hold a Doogie Howser Inspirational Message Contest. The person who writes me the cheesiest--but true to Doogie form--message will get a care package from me in the mail! I'm not kidding. Keep it to 3 sentences tops, and just post it in my "Comments." Once I've gathered them all over the next couple weeks I will post them front and center, then announce the winner. I will proceed to send a care package full of (cheesy) gifts for the annointed one!

I'll try to make one up here, as an example. Here you go:

"Hope comes to us in the most unexpected places. Sometimes we have to stumble through a memory to find our footing in the present moment. Hope lives in the moment -- but only if we walk steadily onward."

Got it? Okay, now start typing!!!

xoxo,
Nathan

Doogie Howser is gay!

Slayer

Slayer

The jungle. Beautiful. Lush. Dangerous. Every year, new species of creatures are discovered within the world's jungles, just as others become extinct. On November 21st, Anchor Bay Entertainment will release Slayer, a story of a company of soldiers sent on a mission into the South American jungle where they discover a new breed of vampire, deadly by day as well as by night! Written and directed by Kevin VanHook (Voodoo Moon, The Fallen Ones, The Damned) and starring Casper Van Dien (Starship Troopers, Sleepy Hollow) and Jennifer O'Dell (“CSI: Miami,” “The Closer,” “Nip/Tuck”), Slayer is a terrifying update on the vampire legend and with an SRP of $19.98, it won't drain you. Pre-book is October 11, 2006.

Slayer begins when a peace-keeping army is dispatched to a remote jungle in South America to investigate a series of horrific attacks. Headed by Captain Tom ‘Hawk' Hawkins (Van Dien) and his second-in-command Grieves (Kevin Grevioux – Underworld , “Angel”, Bowfinger), the squad finds itself in a deadly confrontation with a nest of vampires impervious to daylight. And these vampires are growing in number, for they have gone beyond preying on the local villagers. Now they are directing their thirst towards Hawk's fellow officers, intent on absorbing their military knowledge for their own bloody campaign!

Slayer co-stars Lynda Carter (“Wonder Woman”, “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit,” Sky High), cult movie favorite Danny Trejo (The Devil's Rejects, All Souls Day: Dia de los Muertos) and former Miss Puerto Rico Joyce Giraud (“Joey”, Dude, Where's My Car?) – and look for Kevin VanHook's son, Cameron, as one of the vampires!

The Slayer DVD also hosts a slew of sinister supplements including:

Widescreen presentation (1.78:1), enhanced for 16x9 televisions
Audio commentary by Writer/Director Kevin VanHook and Star Casper Van Dien
Photo and concept art gallery
Script ( DVD -ROM)
Filmed on location in Puerto Rico, including the famous Rio Camuy Caves, Slayer presents an epic battle between the living and the undead against a suitably savage landscape. With its unique interpretation of one of horror's most popular legends, anyone with a stake in vampires will want to take a bite out of Slayer!

SLAYER

Street Date: November 21, 2006
Pre-Book: October 11, 2006
Catalog #: N9000
UPC: 0-1313-89000-8 1
Run Time: 87 Minutes
Rating: Horror
SRP : $19.98

Sun & Rain

The sun is trying to peek through right now after all this rain we've been having. It must be interesting: the love affair between the rain and sun. Then the sun goes off and has an affair with the moon, and the poor rain gets shafted. Again.

J passed away early Monday morning.

As I finish this entry, the sun is fighting even harder to push through the remaining storm clouds. I'm ready!

Cassandra is dancing!

Well, many of you know that Cassandra is my muse. For the uninitiated, Cassandra is my antique mannequin. Right now she's wearing my Madonna & Child T-Shirt, the one I got in Russia, painted by Da Vinci (?). Did I get the artist correct? Shame on you, Nathan, you should know better! Plus she has on a black wool cap. She looks great. Anyway, I'm printing off some stuff here at home, and the printer is wobbling around on the unsteady table, and Cassanda looks like she's dancing! It's great -- as always, I have music blasting into my ears while I write, and Tori's "Datura" came on, and that Whiplash-y part of the song came on (the part that reminds me of Jesus Christ Superstar with those eerily poetic 39 lashes) and Cassandra is just bopping around to the song. She's pure Jennifer Beals at the end of Flashdance right now!

I sat with J for a long time yesterday. I read, and napped, and talked to him. Thank you all for expressing your concerns and thoughts. Funny, people "give me credit" for doing things like volunteering at Our House, but really, we all do our part in different ways. Some of us stop to pet dogs we pass on the street; some of us raise wonderful children; some of us know how to cook really great meals to make people's tastebuds happy; some of us are telemarketers and take people's calls and help them pay their bills on time. So, yes, I love what I do to "get involved" but I can't express enough how much I'm impressed by all of YOU, by your unique talents.

On that note, I'll leave this short posting....I will mention I just started The Green Man: Tales from the Mythic Forest, edited by Ellen Datlow & Terri Windling. Wow. I'm already hooked. It's a collection of stories, poems, and essays about, yep, the Green Man. The intro. got me hooked right off the bat....and another little "coincidence" (that word should be stricken from the dictionary) entered my Life. I had decided to listen to some music compilations I'd made for people, and I had one in the car with Katell Keineg's "The Battle of the Trees." This song has been on my mind a lot, and I decided to listen to the CD. Anyway, that CD was in my player, and during my last few minutes with J there was a mention in this book's intro. about an ancient text, The Battle of the Trees, and it involved traditions/history of the Druids, and how it wasn't an actual battle of trees/Green Men but a battle of words, a clashing of language. I had no idea that Katell's song was based off this. After I said "See you soon" to J, I got in my car and listened to Katell's song. I love that it was right there, waiting for me.

J

It's raining outside, and the house is silent, and my Nightspell incense is burning pleasantly. Ollie and I just got back from a quick walk. I would have stayed out longer save for the rain, plus I ran a BUNCH of errands today -- and I'm plain tired. It's been an emotional couple weeks. B passed away (he was a participant at VOA), and while I didn't know him well I mourn his passing. And I got an email yesterday from Laura, one of my friends and fellow volunteers at Our House, and she told me that J was very sick, only has a couple days left, and I should go see him. So I did. I sat with J yesterday and we listened to music, and I couldn't believe how thin he'd gotten -- now I know what that phrase skin and bones really looks like. Plus he has a rash, and his body is covered in these sores all over. Despite his looming passing, and B's passing, they have been sewn into the tapestry of my life and I've gotten many signs lately that say, Hush, Nathan, it's okay. It's okay. One deals with that word "okay." I bought this amazing sweatshirt at my new favorite store, Blue, the other day. On it, it says: "Everything will be okay." And I feel like it's my mission to wear the sweatshirt and comfort people. Then, last night, two things: 1) Karla, Mom, and I watched The United States of Leland, and Ryan Gosling's character says, "It's okay," to this boy with a disability....he had to learn to say these words from his girlfriend, played the wonderful Jena Malone. 2) Then, during the movie, Alice leaves me a voice mail message saying, "I thought it would be good to talk to you....You know how to tell people, 'Everything will be okay.'" She used those exact words! Another powerful thing is that yesterday morning I stopped writing soon after I'd started in the morning, and I decided to make a 2-disc music compilation. I was just filled with this need to do it right away, even though I was going to wait a few weeks. Then I told myself: I'll listen to it tomorrow, while I write -- but I felt this burning desire to take it in the car with me, something I don't often do with brand-new compilations. I usually let them gain power in my walkman at home. But I took it along, and then at work yesterday morning I got the message about J, and while visiting I told him I'd made a compilation (he loves music) and he asked to listen to it....So I brought it in and gave him the copy and sat with him through one of the discs. I know he loves it. I plan on going back tomorrow for a while, to sit with him, to read, to be in his presence. He is a truly lovely soul and I know he appreciates my story of when I went to visit him in the hospital, when he was sleeping for a couple weeks, and I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and I looked up and saw his spirit and he smiled at me, him in all his power and strength and resilient goodness. I love you, J. You are such a blessing. And you told me you're ready to "let go" and I know that YOU know you are just transcending to another plane, where you're not sick and not just skin and bones and that White Light Soul can just burst out all over the place and do more amazing things. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend. Sweet dreams.