Knitting Ferocious Spiders

to shake at the page, the blank world, it is not because I am empty. My hands are always full of something, but when the hammers and pins are lost numb fingers can still be very clever. I have been at the buckles today, the straight jackets done up, white like empty worlds; and I have been knitting ferocious spiders to spin their webs across the ceiling. I have tickled the belly of the three headed dog, and now I'm working at picking out this knot: a tangle of failures as smooth as oiled secrets, as tight as a garotte around the throat of an angel, balanced on the head of a pin; there are other dangers just as sudden that can spring from my curious fingers; and while I am working at undoing this potential for savage reunion with the world, which is as empty as it was in the beginning, puzzle this: my dreams were never violent, but they promised that all things will come.

Knitting Ferocious Spiders has wound a nice ball. It's been a diary of confusion and mistakes, assertions and affirmations, but now, it's time to tie it up, and leave it as it is. There's a certain symmetry to a year. This was never the intention: I was set to fire it off under this format for quite some time, but it's been a little more than 12 months of massive change: a lot of learning, and tangles tugged out as best I could muster. I have a better idea now of what I want, and of how I see my life progressing, in the near future. Even more, I've learned about the world of blog, and what kind of a form I would like to pursue in its arena. This direction has become a little too undirected. The Spider, however, will keep spinning. Check back for the new link. My next attempt at a quotidian project should be a little more so than this one, I should think.

For the past several weeks at the present restaurant job in Auckland (present only because I hope that in the near future it will be the stuff of anecdotes and legend) I have been making a grievous error. I have been making Lemon-Lime and Bitters the wrong way . Apparently, in New Zealand, as well as in other British and colonial locals, Lemonade is more what I might call "Sprite", or (if under duress) "7-Up"; so the "Lemon" in "Lemon-Lime and Bitters" stands for aforesaid fizzy drink, not lemon cordial, as I have been using, and soda water is evidently not an acceptable surrogate bubble-maker. I learned this after the woman who pointed out my error almost twisted the ears off my head for the inaccuracy. God I've missed waiting on tables.