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Can smooth and rough muscles be tense at the same time? - De File
Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
cbertsch
cbertsch
Can smooth and rough muscles be tense at the same time?
Maybe it's the solar storms doing it, but I have felt really out of sorts the past few days. And it has been getting progressively worse. That feeling that I can't do, can't think, can only putter mindlessly, if that.

Since my parents and now sister are here, there is surely some psychosomatic component. I do recall having this feeling quite often as a teenager and on more recent visits home.

But the unease is less focused than that, more abstract.

By far the best description I can muster is Joan Didion's prose in The White Album, when she's detailing the effect of Santa Ana winds. I can't quote it here, though, because the book is in our bedroom, where my parents are presently sleeping.

Of course, there are very strong Santa Ana's wreaking havoc in Southern California right now. Fire all over the place.

I suppose my earlier entry about "earthquake weather" can and should be extended to include the autumn threat of firestorms.

I have a good story about the Oakland Hills fire of 1991 too.

Anyway, I'm not sure whether Santa Ana winds in the Golden State can have much effect on the mood of a person living in Tucson, but I'd be a good test subject for a study.

Oh, and the humidity is once again reading "L%" in here, though the night is much cooler than earlier this week.

Mode: la sombra
Muse: only the wind

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Comments
kdotdammit From: kdotdammit Date: October 26th, 2003 12:27 am (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
I've been waiting for an earthquake all day. It does feel weird and weird in the way that something bad is going to happen. I hope nothing real bad, I really do. I hope the weirdness stops soon. I love you.
elizabeg From: elizabeg Date: October 26th, 2003 01:41 am (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
I remember the Didion well, though can't quote at the moment either because although I've set my clocks back, it nonetheless is 1 in the morning. The books are close and far at the same time--But somewhere in White Album and again in Los Angeles Notebooks, I think, I remember passages on the Santa Ana. The sky cast yellow, wind breaking around the edges of everything, the edges already broken.

Would earthquake weather be why that peachgold light that so entranced me Friday morning was so surreal when it hung close and closer over the whole city as I rode the bus inland from Santa Monica? There was no wind but its absence was wrong. I have not lived long in a place like this but such light should not burn, the sky a red flame through cloud all morning long, the air so stale... It lifted only driving west again, then afternoon and it was nearly gone.

It will lift, Charlie. And maybe Didion was right that much must always be already shattered but she did not often have in mind to mention we can see through shards. A decenterd world can center multiply.
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