Last night I dreamt I was in a bookstore and I found a weathered leather bound copy of Leaves of Grass. The bookstore owner asked me what my favorite poem was and I told him and I started reciting it.

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle

When I came to the last line, a line I always remember and whisper to myself it became magic. I found myself knee deep in water and the dream was waiting for me to utter those words like a magic spell and I did The Sea whisper'd me and every thing in my body that wasn't working started to work again, every hidden virus, every possible carcinoma, they all left. It was like a magic spell. I could use it on everyone. I could use it on my friend.

I put Atticus in the stroller and went to the local bookstore today (City Bookstore on Irving Park) and I immediately found a decent copy of Leaves of Grass. Someday I will get a nice old leather bound copy, nothing so fancy that I can't open it up and turn the pages but something nice and hefty, something to anchor me down.

It has been a strange and tiring time since the benefit ended. I was still floating for days with everyone's love and the wonder of the evening. Michael said that's what weddings are like, that same feeling. I even gave a speech though the applause midway flustered me so I forgot the whole thing. I had a witty thing to say about everyone involved. Since that day, slowly, my body has started to give way, things began to snap or untether, springs popped loose. Understandable considering the work that went into it and the strange calmness after. My feet are worse than ever and my hands are getting there. For a few days now I have had moments of not fully hearing people, having them sound far away. My body aches and feels slow. My throat hurts. Now since this has become much to my amazement a rather public blog I imagine many people at this point mentally chiding me or actually getting to the phone to tell me to go to the doctor. I am. My appointment is on Monday with my oncologist. The fatigue, though it seems rather intense and....familiar, is not a sign that they are going to take me out of remission. I think a more plausible explanation is waiting to be expounded upon.

This past weekend my sister in law got married. I have mentioned my future brother in law in these pages before. I like him. He's a storyteller. He is Serbian and many of his family came in from very far away. He is going to be a priest in the Serbian Orthodox church. As we were heading to the reception Sunday night Irene told me, Isn't it amazing that in our family tree we will be bound to people in as far away as Serbia. Look how far we stretch. I am paraphrasing.

That is pretty amazing if you ask me. India. Guatemala. The UK, Greece, Brazil, Tanzania....Serbia. To name a few. Nice

I am a bad man for not writing here earlier. It has been a rough week and more. Atticus was sick with tonsillitis (!) for days on end. He was screaming bloody murder. Poor boy. His tonsils were swollen so he couldn't eat so he cried because he was hungry and the crying made them hurt more so he cried more. He's doing much better now.

My head is filled with more paintings. I want to do more. I have a deep desire to do a mural somewhere. I have ideas for one. I have kept away from words for this whole time and no poetry has flowed.

Zipyflavor, you'll appreciate this as you are my African music soulmate: the songs Aki Special by Prince Nico Mbarga and Les Ambassadeurs International's Seidou Bahkili have saved my life. Again. I sing them to Atticus and dance around.

British Sea Power kicked me in the ass. Jesus.

All my paintings are gone. I wish I could say I miss them but I want to see what kind of stuff they give to their new companions. I love them all but Shari, you got my favorite.

And, as a side note, she'll kill me if I say this out loud but a certain young lady in our house watched Labyrinth for the first time and has a mad crush on David Bowie. Mad crush.

My head is so many places (Tybe and Judd, hello from me) that I can't fully transcribe what is jumping around up there. Barack Obama was on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me this morning.

Can I say more later? I will. I will.

O madly the sea pushes upon the land,
With love, with love.