Saturday! Saturday!

Streets bustle,

poems hurdle,

mountains climb themselves.

I could have stayed up all night

with the energy you handed me.

Instead I fell fast asleep,

with love on my mind.

I wake, it is Saturday.

“Radiant peace, like a delicate purple flower unfolding,

encompass me like water.”

The Adventures of Tom Tom – WTFYI


Searching for a new notebook this morning cause I filled the last one up with words, and guess what? I have a lot of notebooks which are not empty, which are filled with words and also some Tom Toms. This is the debut of a female Tom Tom. I didn’t even realize that could happen. But the truth exists and here is proof.
Tom Tom Makes Out

Top 5 Photos of the Week

Welp, it’s that time again. Time has passed and what have we done? With or without each other, at home or in far away lands, on stage, on screen, on philosophical ponderings, this has been my week, and wowzas, dang, etc. This week: there are actually 5 photos. To keep it interesting, I’ve numbered them 2-6.



2) Medeski, Martin and Wood at the Great American Music Hall. I had to really concentrate to get my phone out of my pocket, the music was so good, so intense, I felt like I was attending a master class in what happens when you go beyond 10,000 hours. I kept thinking “I’ll get a picture when they are in between songs because I don’t want to break my concentration from this for a second.” Except they basically never stopped playing. Their set list consisted of about 1/3 rehearsed tunes, transitioning between them with some of the most innovative acoustic improv I’ve ever laid ears on. The 3 men having musical conversation in front of a live audience was breathtaking, mesmerizing, and a host of other good things. Really a magical experience, highly recommended. Thanks Devin for the come up!


3) Trying to look tough enough to be tough-looking next to dudes that are actually tough looking. Cause tattoos and muscles do a really good job of making people look tough. Whereas just shading in your beard a little darker and messing up your hair… yeah, I could have probably tatted up and worked out for like 5 years if I was really method. On set at a bar scene for a crime reenactment show.


4) Ultra Marine Date with Ariel. We went to the Maritime Museum near our house and got to hang out on boats, including a tug boat and a boat that looks like a pirate ship, but was really a cargo ship. I learned things about being a sailor, like how glad I am that I am not a sailor and also how now both Ariel and I agree that we understand why people would become raging drunk pirates given the circumstances, which we read on placards and heard spoken of by authentic-looking guides, who were startled by Ariel ringing the giant bell at the hull of the pirate ship super loudly. Some things had signs on them that said “do not touch.” Some things may have new signs made for them.


5) The angry mob waiting for Evan to show up to read excerpts from his novella, Autumn Monsters. This is an excerpt from Netheryonder’s National Poetry month celebration. Pictured: Me, Rob Ready, and Adam Donnegan. If there was a big muscly tattooed guy standing next to us, he would have made us look like baby children, so don’t let us fool you into thinking we are tough.


6) This is not my father but he has the same name. Also he has 3 hands. Found in a library book making fun of actor’s head shots and resumes. I really love the library, especially since my fines got “taken care of” by the library mob. Thanks, library mob.

Intergalactic Poetry Month

You said you would be there, and

you appeared to teach and be taut.

bar at midnight, graceful presence/with the present,

you’ve heard tell you could not be resonant.

be correct in yourself.

be at a loss for words.

be silent and still and


when the man speaks he has something to say.

the initials of a Caesar who has long gone.

Surrounded by angels of hell himself.

the drink sits at the tip of his tongue.

the man speaks from experience:

it’s all he has,

all any of us have.


The more I say, or

The more I do.

The more I act,

react and listen,

the more habits melt away,

nerves relaxing under heat of day.

weight, shifting,

“have you been here before?”

the kind of line that requires patience.

more craft, more service,


On Waking Early

What a funny feeling to have woken up at 5:30AM on my own accord. I am so excited for the day! I have been working on waking up early, I prefer it. I am a closeted morning person. I can accomplish so much when the world is quiet around me, it puts such a jive in my jaunt  to rise with the sun. Today, I woke early. I made coffee, took a short walk with Bowie the dog, wrote for a while to clear my head and set my day off in the right direction, studied my script in a hammock in our city backyard, and witnessed the sun’s light greeting the Bay.

I have not always been an early riser. I thought people who were early risers were crazy, why not just sleep? I can remember my first encounter with Mary Oliver, the Pulitzer Prize winning poet, on the shelf at the Winston-Salem Borders or Barnes and Noble, wherever it was that my classmate Cedric worked. I was browsing around and came across the title “Why I Wake Early.” Intrigued, I peeked inside.

Why I Wake Early

Hello, sun in my face.

Hello, you who made the morning

and spread it over the fields

and into the faces of the tulips

and the nodding morning glories,

and into the windows of, even, the

miserable and the crotchety –


best preacher that ever was,

dear star, that just happens

to be where you are in the universe

to keep us from ever-darkness,

to ease us with warm touching,

to hold us in the great hands of light –

good morning, good morning, good morning.


Watch, now, how I start the day

in happiness, in kindness.


~ Mary Oliver ~


(Why I Wake Early, 2004)

At the time, I considered the poem far-fetched and “naturey” – I mean, does this lady really believe herself? Some inkling urged me to buy it anyway. It could have been the Pulitzer Prize award on the cover. Like it could become useful even if it wasn’t immediately so. As time progresses, I recognize more and more the power of waking early. Each day, new opportunities. Each day, the witness grows in power. In passion. In love. It may have taken almost a decade, but now I thrive on the energy of morning. Thank you, sunrise. Thank you, today.

Try it, you’ll like it: Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages. I usually start mine with “Good morning, good morning, good morning, thank you.” Julia starts hers with “Good Morning, I’m tired.” There are no rules. Write 3 pages. In the morning. A vacuum cleaner for the mind. A release. An focus establisher for the day. Open your brain to your thoughts. A solid tool.

Would you like help getting out of bed? Develop Pavlovian response to alarm through rehearsal.

Lights, Camera, Holy Cow!

Today marks the first shooting day of a short film I am working on. Also the first film where they let me talk a lot. My character is the protagonist of the story. His name is Olson.

What a strange feeling to go from ‘action’ meaning, “now you all sip your wine in the corner and mouth words but don’t talk” to ‘action’ meaning “20 people are looking at you, there is a camera and boom mic inches from your face, hit your mark, remember these three paragraphs and go!” It was fun and I am tired and we are doing it again tomorrow.


The shoot today was in Hayes Valley Farm, which is really awesome but soon it will be condos. It was interesting to hear how positively the folks at the Farm are dealing with the reality of being shut down. They hope to harvest seeds from their last crop to replenish seed banks around town. They are also transplanting their perennials to various locations around town. Their newest project is to put a farm in every one of San Francisco’s 49 square miles. Gardeners are resourceful by nature. Read more about them at

Also, I have never meditated before but did you know there are chill places to meditate in San Francisco? I learned this today. I think I should meditate. But is that anti-meditation, cause it is thinking? I think I should meditate.

It’s like good ole JC said, “experience is the teacher of all things.”


Do something for the first time. Celebrate the awesomeness of newness. It is scary, but fun. Five more days of shooting left. Film acting. Excited to get used to this. Going to sleep well starting right now.

House Party

You heard of late night Friday.

You heard of staying in.

You heard of going somewhere.

But you ain’t never been.

You stare right through the window,

Eyes pondering the rain.

I swear I saw God shed a tear

Into your pink champagne.

We never met our eyes before.

We never met our skin.

We heard of going somewhere.

But we ain’t never been.


Sitting still on a wild and fallen log

A single bee buzzes past my listening right ear

The left, piqued, as he changes his course

a slight detour from the service of the Queen.



I sit,

contemplating silence

fearlessly broken

by the mere existence

of flight.