on the windowshield of my car i found a sheet of notebook paper with this scribbled across the page in pen:

you are gorgeous.
xxx-xxx-xxxx

no name. no apartment number. that is what i know about my flattering albeit creepy secret admirer. he knows what i look like. he knows my car. he knows which floor i live on. i'm going to be looking over my shoulder now. i'm obsessed with finding out who this is. i have to wonder if a second note will follow.

i met alicia for lunch at bouldin creek to read over paperwork for our new house. we're excited to move in in three weeks. then i had the car washed at a place on south lamar, visited victoria's secret to stock up on the important undergarments, and bought groceries from wheatsville co-op. it has been a typical saturday afternoon filled with going out to eat, driving, and chores. laundry is on the to-do list tonight, for which i have a bottle of south african white wine chilling at home in the fridge.

i'm convinced that when your physical space is in order, you will have greater clarity in your creative life. i feel lighter and better already. there is no more "junk in the trunk," so to speak. the upcoming move is forcing me to get rid of what i no longer use and to straighten up what i have stashed away in the closet. i don't want to carry around this extra baggage, which has created an emotional blockage with creativity, maybe relationships, and clarity. not only that, i'm more conscientious about energy conservation, recycling, and being as organic as i can be. our house is going green.

already i'm thinking about what i would like to plant. definitely basil, rosemary, thyme, cilantro, tomatoes, carrots, and lettuce in the vegetable patch. rose bushes, salvia greggi, honeysuckle, jasmine, lantana, prickly cacti, agave, yucca, and more native plants in the front. how i love the southern climate. we want to also paint the front door and have potted plants out on the front and back porches. it is not that the house itself has not been taken care of by the owner. it is more that the owner has not been able to bring out the charm of the house. he is obviously not an artist or a gardener, but is fortunately open to us enhancing the value of the property.

some people don't know that i used to work at a greenhouse. i learned a lot about taking care of plants from the owners. i went on to take a class from the community college on landscape design and native plants to central texas. our instructor would have us meet at numerous nurseries around the city and walked us through the sections, plant by plant. we divided the time between studying in the classroom and learning at the garden centers. my heart was very much in following a path of working as an independent landscape designer, however, i felt overwhelmed with their certification curriculum and with how long it would take me to complete. around that time, i made the decision to pursue a master's degree in english at st. ed's, thinking it would be somehow safer and more logical to bank on my writing/editing skills for a career and to have a master's degree instead of a mere certificate from a community college.

lately i've been thinking more about trying to generate some business as a writer/editor AND partaking in landscape design for people who are interested. the bottom line, i think, is to become self-employed, to no longer live the 9 to 5 corporate existence, to be free to follow creative pursuits for a living. this week i suffered from the discovery of a cum-like stain on my chair monday morning, which had to be exchanged for another and created a huge scene in my division. the woman next to me said, "what is the cleaning crew doing over the weekend?!" everyone wanted to look at the chair stains, which i wanted to believe were from white-out, but everyone knew that it was not white-out. i laughed more when i had to edit the travel ad from a man named titti. yeah. titti. his property description was even more suggestive, including words like "pearl" and "limpid river" and "sensuous." gotta love the italians. imagine him introducing himself to women. "hello signorita, my name is ti-tee. do you haf any italian in you? no? would you vanta some?"

p wanted to read some of my poetry before our photo shoot together and part of her reaction about my work was along the lines of how i'm brave to make myself so vulnerable to strangers, to be that open about sex and relationships. i think that in my day to day existence, i'm a generally quiet and subtle presence. writing is the outlet i have for opening up to the world and expressing my exhibitionist, colorful side. sometimes this openness shocks people who does not expect it to come from someone quiet like me. i'm drawn to dance and performance for the same reason. where else can i express myself in those bold, sexual, radical ways?

art has been carthartic and healing and wonderful and life changing.