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both family, both home

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slo 7, I’ll miss you

if you entered my room it would end up smelling like you

you would somehow permeate the space with your scent

not a bad scent, just a smell.

it’s like when someone loans you their sweater

and the fabric smells like them.

how long until you smell comes off the fabric,

the paint on the walls?

how long until our mark on this home will be merely a memory

and the people who live here after us destroy the joy we made ourselves

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sounds you hear in my house (in words, because I am not in miami and therefore cannot get the recordings): also known as, what it’s like to live with two special needs brothers and a day in the life of my family

“bop”

“ba ba bop”

“NAAAASIGUENA BABAISUBABOOOOO” (the intro to the circle of the life from the lion king)

literally any song from the sound track of sesame street’s 25th anniversary a musical celebration

“YOU ARE A TOY” (from toy story)

Woody’s Roundup (also from toy story)

I’ve got no strings (from pinocchio)

the grinding of a food processor

slamming doors

heavy footsteps

“WAHOOO”

“the rum tum tugger is a curious cat” (from cats, the musical)

“I’m just sweet transvetite, from transsexual transylvaniaaaaaa” (from the rocky horror picture show)

“CLOSE EVERY DOOOOOR TO ME HIDE ALLL THE WORLD FROM ME” (from joseph and the amazing technicolor dreamcoat)

long squeaky yawns

darth vader like breathing

snoring that sounds like if darth vader was a squeaky toy

chuckling

malicious laughter

contagious laughter

stomping on carpet

a toy phone saying “let’s learn colors” or alternatively, the numbers “one one one” “two two two” being repeated over and over again

the barking of one of those remote walking flip dogs, which my real dog is terrified fo

the clanging of silverware against ceramic plates to indicate the end of my brother’s meal

latin news television

the toilet seat clanging against the tank

the wheels whirling of a stationary bicycle

the running of the bathtub

my dog barking over literally nothing

assorted musical theatre sound tracks

random crunching noises (is it fruit loops or dog food? the world may never know)

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my dad never let me leave my shoes at the front of the house. we do it all the time. 

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I had never seen trees bloom before, or the leaves die.

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this what home looks like; all the time, 24/7.

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what i’ve smelled

the inside of ice skating rink

cigarettes

wood

hearty soup

dirty metal

rain mixed with coffee

latin food

sea breeze

humidity

incoming rain storms

paint thinner

banana bread

fresh flowers

sewer water

musty carpets

melting rubber

seasonings bubbling in water

can you guess which ones are from school and which are from home...maybe they’re both.

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what i’m missing

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slo 7 animal of the house

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a text I received from my brother this morning 

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you remind me of a distant memory...

things that remind me of home in no particular order:

batteries, long drives at night , strawberry banana crystal light, sea breeze (the actual thing and the toner brand), slobbery kisses, dirty dog smell, pudding cups, globs of pureed vegetables stuck to kitchen tables, pillow feathers stuck onto clothing, knotted hair, veiny fingers, creaky metal gates, gripping sharpies, grassy walkways, feet on cold tile, the thumping of footsteps, tight hugs, driving at night, cuddles, paint-by-numbers, belting into the the night, rice and beans, being made mac and cheese without being asked, humidity, hard rain, wet hair, puzzles, lighting candles, cardinals, butterflies, palm trees, people made of plastic, the beach, going out to dinner on saturday nights, stuffed bears, the smell of chlorine, one hits, calzones, latin music, jean shorts, holding hands, happiness,

things that remind me of college in no particular order:

open windows, snow stains on stairs, dirty carpets, laying on the floor, making popcorn, watching movies late into the night, scrabble, american idol, eggs, fold-out chairs, levitating, john mulaney specials, baked goods, walking down the sidewalk at night, empty white claw cans, late night pasta, spring, brisk air, silent exchanged glances, twilight, mediocre dining hall food, the excitement of takeout, shiitake mushroom sushi, hearing other’s conversations through the walls, making rice and beans for others, snow, feeling like my fingers are going to fall off, board games, ranting,  poetry, flowering trees, dead trees, leaves crunching under my boots, doc martens, distant ice cream truck music, long library nights, cheese boards, cheap vodka, eating pasta off of scrabble boards, disco balls, multi-colored lights, rough denim, cigarettes, happiness

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creating this lovely little home space we have here; a home within the home for homes

mii music sample by ross spellman

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even buckets have homes

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toto, I don’t think we’re in miami anymore- part 2 

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toto, I don’t think we’re in miami anymore- part 1

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streets of home, part 2