Hi lovelies... been a while, huh.

If you have sent me mail between March 5th and April 23rd I did not read it. if you don't know why the quick story is this:

I fell maybe 18-20 feet off a ledge setting up for a Madagascar party:

"The best idea ever*

*what could possibly go wrong?"

Ironic, eh? I broke lots of bones, had lots of yucky internal injury stuff, and was in a sorry state in hospitals and rehab/physical therapy for 6 weeks. (But I did get a sexy 8" scar in my right arm, underneath which shines even sexier titanium plates and screws to hold bones in place that will never, I say never, fuse together again!)

Since then ive' been in Florida at my parents house because they have no stairs (and take good care of me) and I am still not walking, though maybe in a few weeks I can try. I'm healing very well, and expect a full recovery. It just takes a while. Obviously email piled up so my lovely sysadmin/friend who hosts klever at bastard.com (go peek someday), I had him delete it all. Sorry. There were over 5,000 messages, 3,000 of which were spam.

So it goes. On with the good stuff.

kleverFlow ViceDon'tKnow

Flow. Of the tide (out the window). Of progress (mending bones). Of my imagination (now bristling). I've quit the pain killers and sleeping pills, and now I just think, all day and all night, whizzing past ideas, a few I manage to write down. Me, my brain, we are wide awake.

Don't know. When I'll return (maybe still may). When I'll be able to work again (unless I find a sit down job). When I'll be able to walk (though I get around and they tell me it won't be long). But what is long? Time has certainly revealed its tricks to me the past 10 weeks. Minutes of excruciating pain last forever. Months of lying in bed fly by. When will the nurse come? When will the phone ring? When will I see the cats?

Why. I don't ask why anymore. Neil once told me that why wasn't a question, it was a way to be. I still believe that. It doesn't matter why I fell, or why the paramedics took me to whichever hospital, or why it's taking so long to recover. (And I am recovering - feeling very little pain, getting around, reading, writing, and exercising). But I don't care about why in the petty way most people abuse it. I'm not even sure I care about the *big* why either, you know, why are we here, or why do some people die, and so forth. A few practical why's linger about like: why is Bush still in office, or why don't more people in the world know about the role American privatized military is playing in Iraq, but those are why's I can change from questions to answers. I think Neil's point is just that we should stay curious rather than try to answer specific questions, big or small. I fell because I slipped and the universe is as it is. Done.

So what's it gonna be? There's no denying that the world of shel came crashing inward as the mad dance of excess (too much work, school, music, nights out, and bad habits) took a wrong step off a ledge into silence. Gradually silence edged to a dull murmur interspersed with shocking episodes of pain, resentment, anger and fear, also gratitude, relief, and love from dozens of friends and family (thank you all). And murmur rose to frequent whisper, and whisper to conversation. But the conversations are different and anyone who's spoken with me in the last few weeks would notice:

1. We are not in bar, and I am not shouting, smoking, drinking, or darting off mid-sentence to greet someone else.

2. My thoughts and ideas are clearer than they have been in years, deeper, more focused, more balanced, and more creative.

3. I am relaxed, especially if I'm in the pool, on the water, or looking at water, which I do for several hours every day.

4. I am well- rested though I no longer sleep all day dulled by medication (which was hardly sleep), and I don't sleep much at night because my mind is racing squirrels around my body which needs to catch up.

I could never expect to keep to this very solitary and disciplined (though it doesn't feel like discipline) behavior of treating myself so well upon my return to New York. I've invested too much into my friendships with drunks and obsessive artists, manic crafty loonies with glue gun holsters and I can count the people I know who exercise on two hands (maybe). Yes, yoga counts. And those of you, my healthier friends, I no longer admire you for your discipline; I just understand a little bit better. And that's it, I understand a little bit better.

I expect some things to change -- like playing at tonic once a month instead of every Friday, exercising a few times a week instead of every day or not at all, and having more real and wonderful conversations with the people I love instead of whizzing by, half attentively; Likewise, I'll probably also disappear more, and stay quiet... write, read, and relax alone.

Kylin always says everything in moderation, even moderation, so in time I wouldn't be surprised if this peaceful balance turns all roller coasters again. I'm not worried either way. And incidentally, we are all lucky because Neil and Kylin and their lovely daughter Bey will be moving to New York from Oakland in a few months with their expansive why's and perceptions of balance and 4 year old enthusiasm. Mmmmm.

And lastly. Florida. I've been here for a month under the much appreciated wings of my mom and dad who push my wheel chair up ramps, make me food, do the dishes and laundry, pick up my prescriptions, drive me to the doctor, float with me in the pool and bring me chocolate from time to time. And it's nice here - lizards and birds and blue sky and warm weather (not too hot yet), and unlimited long distance due to some "national calling plan", (so call me and I'll call you back!). it isn't perfect by any means, but it's a nice place to hang out. Also, because Florida hosts so many old people, I mean elderly folk... ramps abound, quality medical care dresses most every corner, and stairs, what are stairs? My doctors here are smart, polite, and unbelievably efficient (I rarely have to wait for anything, even x-rays and CT scans!). And yeah yeah, it's hard to find tofu (even at Chinese restaurants), and people drive at terrifying speeds (fast on the slow roads and slow on the fast), and the bugs and the snakes and alligators and sharks(!) are sometimes annoying, or worse, threatening, and you know, too many malls, mini marts, suv's, pastel paint and fabric, parking lots, highways, and the like, but it's not so terrible. There's even a commercial free community radio station that ranges from very wrong to pretty damn good and offers relief from the rest of the dial which is almost as unspeakably dismal as New York radio.

So, friend, that's what's been going on. As I said, I'm not sure exactly when ill be back, or what ill be up to when I get back, I've already had to change my return ticket twice due to slower than expected progress... just figure I'll be back sometime and I'm sure you'll know, and I miss you all, even you and you who I didn't see too much anyway.

Love and let it be,



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