Just Another Normal Day

HAPPY SWISS NATIONAL DAY!!!!!!!!

Don't be confused by the title. I asked Petra yesterday what the festivities were going to be and she said "nothing, just another normal day". There's Petra for you. We've been hanging up lanterns on roof tops and stringing them across the grounds with brooms the entire morning! We've been setting off fireworks and taking loads of pictures! We've been playing swiss music and making duct taped CH and + shirts! I've never been somewhere for their celebration of independence and wanted so strongly to actually BE of that nationality, and actually BE so proud!
Michele has been showing us how to throw off stink color bombs!


It's not just the mountains here that give me a warm soup for my heart to stand in, it's the people. The women with their smart faces, thin lips, and short boy hair cuts, their dyed red on brown hair, and their small diamond nose pierces, their stocky figured and small teeth, how Petra always looks like she's ready to explode with either complaining, love, or laughter. It's how the boys chop wood and I hang lights, and how we laugh until we knew no other sounds our mouths could make. We listen to only swiss music today.

There is a family here of three kids and a mom, they took off the last 6 months and have been traveling around Africa and Southeast Asia together. I loved it, I wanted it, I plan to do the same. They are 12, 14, and 16. What a lucky fam'!

Yesterday, we had ourselves some darn fun. Camera Nero and I went to do the Via Ferratta (Latin for Iron way) which brings you over tightropes through waterfalls and over valleys, and a giant iron bridge across an 1000 foot clip (where I want to say my vows) which was pretty scary, and past cliff faces. You are clipped on the whole time, and it takes about 3 hours. Later that night, we were all in the hot tub till 1AM telling stories in round about climbing up an old man's beard on the mountain. I also have another photo project started with another traveler. It's called: The Quickest Thing That Bonds: A photo series of objects that bring people closer.

I love my life!

I can't believe tomorrow I will be driving two guys through Europe (I'm the only one that knows how to drive stick and those of you that know me know that even that's a little bit of a joke). I can't believe I've been here for a month! I feel so accomplished: I DID IT!!! I carefully relayed all my ancient, polished kitchen knowledge to the next, "Kitchen Bitch", and packed my room, leaving spots of love in my room, for the next person to inhabit it. It does not belong to me. I own nothing. I showed him the intimacies of how to clean the stove, organize the food, and shine them floors. My job here, my time for now, is finished. There is nothing left to do. I wish I could open my ears to hear the parting words of the mountain, but last time I tried to eat dinner with it, the Creature of Truth said "go hang out with your own people, Katie." and I did :)

I can't say it's my last day, or I explode like one of those fireworks. I can say, it's my last day for awhile.

Yesterday I had a few conversations which sparked. One about how I need to put God first, and a few more about spirituality. One more about how, if I really want to write, I should go somewhere very, very, more 'out of the norm' than here. At first I was offended, but I put that advice in a very special place in me. It rings faintly true, and also has the possibility of false.

I have to say, I am afraid of the impending focus. I'm dreading how after this trip, my focus needs to be acting. acting. acting. If I'm reading something it should be a script. I don't need to be studying German, I should spend my time memorizing monologues. I've made the choice to make this commitment. To try to do little else. To really go for it. To focus this all in, I'm a little weary of it, but its the most necessary thing. :)

Dreams of V.R. Mooshe:

Lscocc Disease was following me around with a pistol, and pointing it at me an my male friends, specifically Sji Theone and an old director. It wasn't great.

.:.:.
the swiss husbands are leaving their wives for others in the mountains. the swiss wemon are hard pressed for men.

.:.:.
OMG!!!

As I am sitting here, an accordian is playing at the bar behind me. I have just seen the most spectacular firework show of my whole entire life amongst the Swiss Alps! It is Swiss National Day and we paraded through the town of Gimmelwald with our swiss flag candle lanterns and then watched the show! Beforehand, Bruno played the accordian for us as well (Bruno, is the one I fell in love with weeks ago at the festival, and he remembered me!!!) I would TOTALLY marry for swiss heritage. "My dad was swiss, and my mom, well, she got swiss" haha. There are decorations everywhere and Michele keeps wanting to go out with me and do MORE sparklers! I have the biggest bestest family ever and you could even see the fireworks in Wengen in the shapes of rectangles and squares, and the ones here got SO close to you (not a surprise with how close the mountains are). We both love this town, does love need anything else? He doesn't believe in loving a state "because a state cannot love back" He and I are both bored by the city, I just don't know if I could deal with a husband named "Bruno"
haha.

TO THE ALPS! www.vrmooshe.blogspot.com

Title Forgotton

I love my boys
I wake them up in the morning
to clean the kitchen
give them juice after they mow the lawn
tell them everything is ok
sing when they play guitar
let them beat me at pool
have them plan our trip to France

What I'm writing on the Wall

Beauty,
is the shape of what's affected
and is rarely pretty.
eerie.
when it's the only option out there
Beauty,
welcomes notice
and does not tolerate ignore
Beauty,
is the choice to stand up
against what doesn't want it to exist.

If it is possible that Sahara sand sleeps atop the Alps,
and there are glaciers in Argentina...
then maybe the lion has lay down with the lamb
and no one noticed.

The whole world. every shape and soul
longs to be noticed

Tell me, How are Fog and Mountain?

are they... spooning?

If you haven't noticed, the fog and mountain are lovers
and the fog performs a rightfully sexy dance,
which the Eiger. Monch. Jungfrau
embraces into her inner valley.

The fog says
i like you
the mountain says
i like you

Sometimes, they are gone for days, eloping to create the baby,
snow.

I am not here now,
so you'll have to notice them for me

Every shape and soul


hello

-V.R.Mooshe, with contributions from Sji Theone

Professional Avalance Instigator

My friends made a joke. They said my new job was to be taken up in a helicopter and laugh at the location where an avalanche was needed to release snow.
(once again, those of you who know me....will understand the truth and endearment of this statement)

when I tell people at the hostel I am writing a book of poetry, they are very supportive. Thank you for that!

Dreams of V.R. Mooshe:
I had the most amazing dream last night, in fact, it was my favorite dreams of all times! I was pregnant! I had a baby, but when I thought back to the birth, it was entirely painless, easy, and clear. It was a boy! And he was the same age as Trevor and Caydence (entirely impossible in real life) I was grateful that he could bond with his cousins in a way I couldn't bond with my brother and sister when I was young, due to the age gap. He was a love, and my favorite thing in the world. He would climb all over me as if I were a rocky mountain. He was very, very, small. And once again, clear. His father was Emiah Lighter, and he had his face, a very long human man face for a baby. Emiah didn't know that he had a son, and had just come back from the sea. I was taking care of Caydence and mine at the same time, but I lost my baby boy. I think he had fallen off the crib somewhere, but it wasn't scary, just disconcerting. I was very excited to call Emiah and say "You have a son" because then we would have a reason to be together. But then I knew he'd say "I didn't even know you were pregnant" and my honest response would have to be "I didn't either". Anyways, I woke up feeling fulfilled. The relationship between me and this child was so right.

.:.:.

"I wonder what it would be like to live here?"
"...what would you like to know?"

"To the Alps!"

One of the most endearing things about the hostel is how people who were not previously gathered at the hostel, will gather out in front in awe of the latest strikingly beautiful thing.
Sometimes it is how the fog caresses the inner thighs of the valley
but last night it was the line of neon pink that strutted across the lower third of the snowcapped peaks. Suddenly everyone is out watching as if the apocalypse is about to whisper a secret that only the mountains can hear.

Everyone gathers in the name of beauty
beauty
Beauty is the shape of what's affected
eerie when it is the only option
out there
Beauty is what stands up against what doesn't want it to be there
Beauty
is the choice to stand
beauty is not always pretty
and does not always choose its battles


.:.:.

what i was talking about yesterday, backing up against the other side
I did that today!
the boys and I went to Trummelbach falls and although it ripped 11 dollars out of my pocket
it was so refreshing, reminding me of every river trip I have ever been to,
and I saw the relationship that I want, presented in rock form. That picture will take about a month to get up here, but it will.
.:.:.

A British woman tells me not to leave my stuff on the bench when I am at the river. That, the noise of the water would disguise a robber as silence. I don't think she understands, that this is Switzerland. The river is as busy as the city
it always has somewhere to go
and maybe she, in her Britishness
has confused it with the NY metro
perhaps she is confused
I don't think she understands
that trust, and freedom, are taken seriously
I don't think I understood
that trust, and freedom, are taken seriously

.:.:.

If too much of a good thing is a bad thing, then what does that say about marriage?

.:.:.

I ran to escape the hostel to my spot on top of an eyeball.

.:.:.

I did something
once and entirely
without knowing what I was doing
at all

.:.:.

His biggest secret is that he's not happy here. And i have to throw it all away, or I will become like plaster and cement, and understand him all too well.
Understanding others, is the only key to making anything ok
but there are some things that just aren't. And I'm afraid that understanding them would make them so, in some indecipherable sense.

.:.:

learning how to play flippy cups, spoons, and I already know kings. oh, and the famous name game (which I did way better than I would have thought

.:.:.

but i haven't figured out if I am good yet
and I don't want your book to end, so I don't finish it.
I played piano for 9 years and I only know two songs.
I take back everything I said about Londoners: this one can play the piano like a tulip
I only know one thing for sure: you have to loose everything you have

.:.:.

I guess, if all goes right, the mountain will still be here when I get old, that is, if I do get old, "that is, if there is gold left"-

.:.:.

3 days and its winter on top, and summer on bottom, a greener green

.:.:.

nothing is better than Peacecore Guitar playing and me dancing, along

.:.:.

her fear is that her life is just as mundane as theirs, and by joining them, it would hit her in the face

what can people do? if you can't get out of your skin, where can you go to?

.:.:.

i'm on the other side of darkness
on the other side of pain
i'm on the other side of sadness
on the other side of why for waking up
i'm on the other side in Mountain
but my back side Harry Potter turbin is behind, attached
on. off
I hope it doesn't turn all the way back around.
I could go hiking in AZ, and just cry at the top
beacuse it is not here. The place won't cry with me
because it will never know

.:.:.

i never loved myself more

.:.:.
just give me 20 minutes to mourn off every traveler
just 20 minutes to comply
please grant this rustic pleasure
so that I may
continue
only child never was my name
but grant me 20 minutes just the same.

.:.:.

today I'm beginning to see the mt again: what a gift!
I'm ok with not seeing it; as long as I'm aware that i'm not.
the past cannot be real
because stillness never falters

.:.:.

the trummelbach falls releases tons of water (and even blackened marble) from the Jungfrau, Monch, and Eiger. A friend (and reader!) wanted to know more about what "the other side" was like:

Since I was 14, I have been wanting to swoon my hands over this creation. Selfishly, I have just wanted to press my body up against it, to feel it with the most surface area of myself that I can. Just like I feel when I see how beautiful it all is, and then try to capture it with my camera, how trite. It's hard for me not to become an obsessive lover with this place, already I have been thinking "this is the last time that..." when really riding up the cable car to Murren in the rain, stopping intermittently for lighting was a first! Like I said at the beginning of my stay, I have often wondered how this side of the mountain feels, what it looks like. On my visit to Wengen,
I did see the other side. It's not exactly something I want to write about, or even explicitly explain, because it is all I can do but not to call it less beautiful. I feel those words that i just typed will send down every terror the landscapes holds and reign it down upon me. What I did see, was how loving either side of the valley was to each other. How each stands it's entire life looking at each other, and doesn't even know really what their own surfaces look like, just what they uphold, and the different weathers they have come to know exist. At the mountain, when I touch the other side, I feel as if I am being zapped with electric energy with each finger. The mountain's kinesthetic response was really just my seeping want pouring out. Has anything been more wanted? Is that enough to make something really, really special?

.:.:.

intimate

there is an intimate moment shared
in the bathroom
between two doors closed
and strangers
sitting in silence,
waiting to pee
maybe a device could be made
like a laugh track
'cept it would be a pee track
to make the bowels more safe,
but then i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
in front of lightning and Arizona skies
where every 5 seconds we clicked the camera together
but none of it was about me
i think it was about conquering some sort of lighting
i'd erase it from my memory
him, and his silly cowboy hat and us in the rain
but then i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
where I was running circles with my mouth
and he was sucking my toe
like my brother did when I was 1 and he was 10
i would dispose this memory for its possible dab into the sacrilegious but then i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
between myself and wine
where the taste was too sweet for my mind to be ransomed
i'd run it over with wisdom and respect
but i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
between myself and my regrets
and all the fun they gave me
and all the times they hissed back
i've heard them traded for complacency and mediocrity
but then i'd find myself more liar than human
and of course i'd loose an intimate

there was an intimate moment
between his fingers
and my line of giving up
my back against his meanness and
his hands around my mind
i would have rid them for any other egg yolk
to regain the moments i spent savoring this one
and lashing on the floor for miss
but i would loose a very special intimate

and no closer i would get

there was an intimate moment
between my need and her recognition
that even eyes sifting past eyes could not prevent
the warm of gushy tears
I'd run from my ability to provide any outlet
but by then i'd have missed an intimate

and no closer would I get

and by then i'd miss something intimate

and no closer would i get

:outline:

.:.:.

"that life thing, you can't get away from it can you?"
it was the 3rd time i'd seen someone in life that reminded me of Bardoff Founder
I wanted to crush all his words. and make them untrue.

28 days later...

Let me try to write something coherent this time around.
I have no idea what this pop culture reference relates to, but I couldn't refuse writing it as my title.
Yesterday, when I went to see the other side,
I figured I would touch the mountain, lay a hand on the side of it, but I was then confused as to what the mountain consisted of,
is it the roads, the made walls, the trees? I wanted to lay my back up against the most background cliff and then be done,
but there was none to be found. Only further.
Have I done what I have come to do?
I sat on my bench until the thunderclouds's secrets were well overheard.
And I began to understand the mountain. It is forms and shapes and turns of how the water runs past it, and a product of how wind, erosion, and time have affected it. There are parts of me which wonder if this mountain has gotten a say in any of its beauty at all. Yes, it produces magical empowerment, but does it have choice?
I watched the crevices of the mountain, and how they stem from steep drops of water, and how it levels out. How on the flat parts, more moss grows, and at the bottom, the grey concrete loose rock is from the falling of the water. I noticed how I don't really see the mountain at all, but it's parts: the over mounting cliff face, the valley and it's large river, the waterfalls, or water stains on the cliffs (depending on how dry it is). I saw these things and wondered what the mountain, itself can choose. Am I loving skin? Cabinets? I am parts, as she is. So it steals nothing from the heart, but I don't know how I feel about understanding, even nougats of it.
.:.:.

Apparently during Swiss National day there is a little bit of dichotomy between the locals and the hostel people (remember, when the entire hostel is full, it accounts for half of the entire town's population). Therefore, there is a bit of...tension Esther told me. Apparently, we go our separate ways. We'll see, but it's understandable. Why should they celebrate it so strongly if they are not Swiss? Well, clearly, because it is beautiful.

.:.

One of the most loving sights of the Bernese Oberland region is how the houses are perched so carefully on vertical landscape to see....the other side. When two houses are facing each other-well, it's very touching. It's like they worked so hard and so long just to be able to say "hey, I see you".

.:.:.

I would highly recommend a very well-done children's book called A Bell For Ursli, about a swiss boy who finally gains a very large cow bell of his own. Saw it in Wengen, a town much more commercial with more construction than farmy, "time-warp" Gimmelwald, with lots of shops.

.:.:.

The water, as it falls into the waterfall is scared
of death
and it shutters
little does it know it will evaporate
before even really hitting the
next level
and it
will be saved
from knowledge of death
maybe that's what its like

.:.:.

I met two guys here last week, and they are staying here until I do.
They are both from the states, and to be trusted.
We're going to rent a car when we leave, and take it to the boarder of France and Spain, where the Pyrenees meet the ocean.
it may deplete all savings I have, but it will be the cheapest way in a while to get to somewhere I've never been before.
I'll drive it 8 hours back before catching my plane. This part I'm not looking SO forward to, but it is more cost effectively.
A high price to pay for freedom.
A small price to pay for adventure.
:)

.:.:.

DREAMS OF V.R. MOOSHE:

I arrived on the day of my old friend's wedding (which is in fact the unfortunate truth) and Lsocc Disease was wearing a shirt he once made for me. My mom was there too, but everyone was wearing the wrong clothes. Then, a semi truck filled with highschool students which were actually paper card cut outs, crashed all into each other.
I woke up on a pull out couch with the rest of the boys, who said they wanted to take an early swim in the hot tub.

Crossing Over

Today I finally did it. I saw the other side of the mountain
what we are perched on
from the side that I've spent all month admiring
it was unsettling
and unexpectedly
humble.
The valley towards Lauterbrunnen
is too much beauty to take in
and felt an awful lot like falling in love.
Made my life hungry, made everything made an odd sort of sense.

August is a rough crowd at the hostel.
The busy season ended a couple weeks ago
and so there are less people to socialize with
although I have a core group, of guys who will ride out the rave with me till the end
and then to the French Pyranees we go. To do the camino de Santiago.
A boy of 9 years old walks around cleaning up all the empty beer glasses around me.
Michele Petra's 9 year old daughter fluffs up my checks, asks if I want anything to drink, and frankly tells me how to play spoons. "It's easy" she says, and translates for her German friends
now, she teaches me how to break dance
.:.:.

I'm not liking the way my nose is turning out
from watching the movie, My girl
I figure it is the only thing
that's really mine
wearing my hair wet and down looks like my nipples are crying for bigger breasts.

the mountain knows a thing or two about death
and aging. I found varicose veins on my legs today
and just wishes they would be in a more interesting shape
tired of bubbling lava muscles
why can't they just burn like fire?
The creature of truth says death is the best alternative
to waste.

nothing can ever be held close enough to stay
except for my nose, who's new shape i am shunning
my mother killed her first hamster by hugging it too closely to her chest
that's how I lost my second promise
apparently I am an obsessive lover, because I decided to stay 30 days staring into the gills of the Mountain

how did you come so early and leave so soon?
how did you manage to find that cheap yellow pass
my father always said leave early before the rest
why am i wearing your socks
on
my chest?

let it be missed
let it be missed
enough is to plenty

why did I lie and say you were second best?
why did i leave that keep cool and dry package inside the right pocket of your vest
why did i listen so well to everyone else?

let it be missed
let it be missed
enough is to plenty

there will always be another pretty girl

.:.:.
Dreams of V.R. Mooshe

Shadow, the black hostel cat, attacked me.