Matt's Missives

Due to the recent spate of commentary that says there is not necessarily a reason for everything I have this response:

While there may be no order to the universe, or our place within it, perhaps our role is to find meaning. To seek for reasons, and to find them in otherwise meaningless situations, is a uniquely human trait. It may be that there are not reasons to all things, but in seeking reason, in seeing it in our own lives, we are given a kind of momentum, a force of conviction that might allow us to do what we can in the world, and endure things we might otherwise not. I choose to believe in reason for these reasons.

Posted by matt at 12:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Well I guess that nobody ever reads this website except maybe family and a few friends, at least judging by the spam comments that are pretty much the mainstay of my 'new comments' list. It's kind of liberating to know that you're pretty much unread--gives you the freedom to rant as much as you want. The only problem you have then is who do you give the address to? I can already think of people I've censored from the site, due to content. So it's kind of a toss up between artistic anonymity and honesty, or a censored perspected and a wider audience. Not, I guess, that my audience would ever be that wide. but you know.
Okay, so today's about love. There has been a new love interest in my life in the last few weeks, which has left me feeling pretty much like I'm back in high school--awkward, shy and totally unsure of myself. I am not used to feeling like this--I'm a pretty self-confident, chilled-out person, most of the time. But the last few weeks . . . well, i've felt like kind of a basket case. The last poem was kind of inspired by her, although also just a general desire for meaningful realationships in my life, rather than week-long or month-long or weekend-long affairs. So . . . today we had that talk . . . which actually was kind of initiated a few weeks ago, when I told her (after a couple of glasses of wine) that I had a bit of a crush on her. Her reaction then was rather . . . reserved. Kind of a "that's nice, thanks." But still, I guess I'm an optimist at heart (some might say naive, but I have my streak of cynicism so . . .), since she didn't say "I'm not interested" I've been kind wondering/hoping something might spring from it. I was hanging out with her last weekend, and we had a great time, just chatting, cooking and hanging out, but in a very non-romantic sense. So, today, seeing her again I asked her what, if anything, was going on. Her response, while not what I was hoping for, was okay. She basically expressed her lack of desire to be in a relationship, which I respect (and really, that's what I should be doing right now, but I'm a sucker for following the heart). She also did say "if I was to . . . it might be you." It's not really enough to sustain hope, nor should I, I suppose, but it's enough to show at least I wasn't dead wrong in crushing on her.
So I guess the question is: what the hell am I supposed to be learning from all this? I'm totally a reason junky, so what does this all mean? Part of me thinks it's just an emotional lesson for being such a flake with most of the girls i've been with in the last few years. to love without expecting return. but then . . . i don't know. i guess it's just time to experience what love is again, even if it's unrequited. i don't mind giving love, i just need to know it's for something (even just in terms of life experience) . . . maybe that's selfish. i don't know. i just see this girl, walking into a room, sitting down anywhere, and i see this power, this potential. she's a remarkable woman, and i'm not sure she knows it yet. it's quite unlike anything i've felt before, and though i don't really expect it to work, after our conversation, somehow i think there will always be a part of my heart reserved for this girl--some little cordoned off area that will hold my desire for her within it. and i guess that's that.

Posted by matt at 11:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

So, I'm moving to Bamfield. This decision has really only arisen in the last few weeks, but the coincidental, near-conspiratorial confluence of convincing occurences has persuaded me of the necessity of moving my life there. The potential to buy land (a dream I've long held, but never acted on, since I lacked, until quite recently, the drive, knowledge, certainty and the maturity to commit to something this large), an ideal rental situation (this is by no means certainty), involving a cabin on the west side (accessible only by boat) on 5 acres with a garden, and a beautiful locale have all conspired to lure me there. It's by no means a sure thing yet--the pieces are there, but I'm working on fitting them all together. There is one additional draw, which is, in some strange, immediate way, the strongest, but is likely one of those imaginings at which I'm so adept. Such is life I suppose.

In any case, I planted some starts this morning, for a vegetable garden, lined up a kayak to use for the summer, have called the building inspector in Port Alberni who covers Bamfield, to discuss zoning on the property I'm looking at, and I'm trying to get in touch with the owner of the cabin I'm hoping to rent. Keeping my fingers crossed.

The property I'm looking at is 1.72 acres, with a septic. It's about 1/3 forest, quite wet on the north end (which I was moderately concerned about, but after looking at Mollison's Permaculture ideas for earthworks and wetlands, I am now quite excited about), and has room at the south end (by the septic) for a house, and a large personal garden. I see orchards, streams (dug by hand), criss-crossed by little footpaths and bridges, a pond, and a willow "fence" around the north and west side. It's gonna take a lot of work, but it's got potential. Lots of potential. I'm excited.

A poem. Thinking of a new zine of poetry. Gonna have to look over what I've written in the last year. Lots of shit, and a couple of pieces I like.

Blood Poem

every girl i've ever kissed
left me a scar with their lips:
etched on the surface of my heart,
like names on a tree trunk,
marking me theirs.

most of the letters are faint and small,
fading with age.
a few, carved in bold, intricate letters
speak of hot nights and long goodbyes.

but i'm tired of flesh wounds;
i want to pierce you, to be pierced, deeply--
so together we can understand
the coursing and mingling of blood.

Posted by matt at 06:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

well, here i find myself back on denman for a while, building garden beds and doing chores. it's kind of nice to be back and in one place for a few weeks. but there's something that's bugging me here--that no one is interested in having any kind of fun. i got here on friday, and so far we've really done nothing but work. now, don't misunderstand me-- i know how much work this project is involving, i have a good sense of the value of work, and quite often get pleasure from it. but i also believe that in order to really do good work, you have to balance it with a certain amount of leisure time. i mean, really: how healthy is a life that you're waiting until tomorrow to enjoy? i need to find a way of bringing this up so that people don't get defensive and tell me "i don't really understand the work involved in this place," cause that's just a load of shit.
despite that, though, it's nice to have some fresh air, time to play guitar, read, etc.

Posted by matt at 12:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)