PICS
good morning, been a while since i wrote anything, so....
first of all, whoever actually reads this journal ought to know that I have the original SG books for sale (the one with me on the cover)-- only these particular ones are going to be signed (by me...haha). People have asked me to do things like this for years, but as you all probably figured out I am a bit reclusive and generally do not do this. However, I decided to create some limited edition copies for those of you who are persistent.... right now I have 50 for sell, and the absolute limit I will sell is 100 copies. after that, no more books will get signed, so if you want one you should get it soon!! check my next journal entry for a link to where you can buy them.....
first of all, whoever actually reads this journal ought to know that I have the original SG books for sale (the one with me on the cover)-- only these particular ones are going to be signed (by me...haha). People have asked me to do things like this for years, but as you all probably figured out I am a bit reclusive and generally do not do this. However, I decided to create some limited edition copies for those of you who are persistent.... right now I have 50 for sell, and the absolute limit I will sell is 100 copies. after that, no more books will get signed, so if you want one you should get it soon!! check my next journal entry for a link to where you can buy them.....
I just read a hilarious poem I wrote when i was twelve. The entire thing was a furious account of my father telling me I put too much honey on my toast. the last line is: "I will never yield." hahahaha
heres another funny one from the same year:
SNOTTY RAINDROP
a tiny teardrop from a cloud
is falling through the sky--
it dances, twirls, and sparkles,
and winks its glassy eye.
it laughs and cries out
IM SO GRAND!
I can fly right through the air,
and im too pure for land!
but watch the snotty raindrop
soaring past your head--
watch cause it's not looking down
SPLATTER
it is dead.
aw! twelve year olds! writing about weather with a bad attitude. hee hee
woa....im lookin for some other funny old poems to copy but seriously i have entered a dramatic and frightening maryland of long-ago crushes and fervent vows to love them forever (only to read a love poem to someone else three pages later). skipping a couple awkward years.....
heres one i wrote on acid when i was 15. i think i'd had about 5 hits, so i was pretty messed up and i was alone in my friend's mom's house. my clothes freaked me out (as did some celebrity on tv, i remember) so i decided to put on a bath towel and write a bunch of poems. the originals are barely legible.
TASTEY
oh chocolate blah blah
but i feel pink has lately been a friend.
i can't reject this
simply because my hand is crazy
and i dont even
recognise my own thoughts
here whispered to this page
or simply because
someone's gonna find me here,
wrapped in this towel,
being unclear.
ok, thats enough bad poetry for one night.
heres another funny one from the same year:
SNOTTY RAINDROP
a tiny teardrop from a cloud
is falling through the sky--
it dances, twirls, and sparkles,
and winks its glassy eye.
it laughs and cries out
IM SO GRAND!
I can fly right through the air,
and im too pure for land!
but watch the snotty raindrop
soaring past your head--
watch cause it's not looking down
SPLATTER
it is dead.
aw! twelve year olds! writing about weather with a bad attitude. hee hee
woa....im lookin for some other funny old poems to copy but seriously i have entered a dramatic and frightening maryland of long-ago crushes and fervent vows to love them forever (only to read a love poem to someone else three pages later). skipping a couple awkward years.....
heres one i wrote on acid when i was 15. i think i'd had about 5 hits, so i was pretty messed up and i was alone in my friend's mom's house. my clothes freaked me out (as did some celebrity on tv, i remember) so i decided to put on a bath towel and write a bunch of poems. the originals are barely legible.
TASTEY
oh chocolate blah blah
but i feel pink has lately been a friend.
i can't reject this
simply because my hand is crazy
and i dont even
recognise my own thoughts
here whispered to this page
or simply because
someone's gonna find me here,
wrapped in this towel,
being unclear.
ok, thats enough bad poetry for one night.
this blank square is symbolic of a universal blandness. today my life felt like plain oatmeal... healthy, practical, and fucking boring.
im tired of being disappointed.
the only person who has interested me in a long time turns out to be taboo for reasons involving my best friend that i i had not fully understood before.
i cannot and will not be responsible for hurting her.
so, no more burning cheeks, nervous laughs, lipstick.
fucking oatmeal.
im tired of being disappointed.
the only person who has interested me in a long time turns out to be taboo for reasons involving my best friend that i i had not fully understood before.
i cannot and will not be responsible for hurting her.
so, no more burning cheeks, nervous laughs, lipstick.
fucking oatmeal.
i found something i'd written a long time ago in an old journal today.
im going to write it here for the sake of any woman who loved someone who was emotionally unavailable and then finally got over it. I think its kindof funny.....
An empty wine glass hovers like an elegant tooth near the edge of the windowsill, clouded slightly at the rim with the print of his lips. strangely i feel nothing, though the evidence of his familiar mouth might have unhinged me before.
There was a time when his limp embrace would have sent my fingers into a fit, groping like shy blind worms for a spot on his skin or in his hair that felt natural and not burning to the touch. and there were moments when i was left with no choice but to lace myself in precariously, cramming huge drooping rolls of emotion like fat into a corset, even though its confinement made it difficult to breathe.... then he would kiss me and the corset's stays would burst, spilling my honesty in all it's garish obesity. And he would turn his back to it disgusted, and fix his eyes on any available glittering thing in the distance.
But not anymore. Last night i savored the dance, collecting the debt of his emotion, tapping into the private horde he had denied me so many times before.
Then i took his glass from his hand and set it on the windowsill quietly, drawing him over to the white folds of my bed. this time there was nothing to unravel-- no armor to undo-- only a black lace bra to unhook and discard. i climbed on top of his body and gripped him with my insides until he came all over himself.
I tossed him a towel and looked down at him, his face nestled into my pillow like a piglet against a sow's belly, and his freckles seemed to deepen--- his eyelashes seemed to curl up like those of the contented cows in butter commercials. That face i knew so well gazed back at me, bashfully blinking and silently petitioning that i, too, pretend the moment was fresh and virginal.
I smiled, but it was a smile as if for an infant--- both tender and impatient, both sweet and condescending--- and then i fell asleep.
When he left this morning i noticed my sheets has become saturated with his stink. I rose, naked, crossed to the heavy desk and opened a drawer. Inside i found a fat pad of post-it notes and wrote the word "laundry" on the top peice with a black sharpie pen. I peeled it from the rest of the stack, yawning, and went to post it conspicuously on the inside of my apartment's front door.
im going to write it here for the sake of any woman who loved someone who was emotionally unavailable and then finally got over it. I think its kindof funny.....
An empty wine glass hovers like an elegant tooth near the edge of the windowsill, clouded slightly at the rim with the print of his lips. strangely i feel nothing, though the evidence of his familiar mouth might have unhinged me before.
There was a time when his limp embrace would have sent my fingers into a fit, groping like shy blind worms for a spot on his skin or in his hair that felt natural and not burning to the touch. and there were moments when i was left with no choice but to lace myself in precariously, cramming huge drooping rolls of emotion like fat into a corset, even though its confinement made it difficult to breathe.... then he would kiss me and the corset's stays would burst, spilling my honesty in all it's garish obesity. And he would turn his back to it disgusted, and fix his eyes on any available glittering thing in the distance.
But not anymore. Last night i savored the dance, collecting the debt of his emotion, tapping into the private horde he had denied me so many times before.
Then i took his glass from his hand and set it on the windowsill quietly, drawing him over to the white folds of my bed. this time there was nothing to unravel-- no armor to undo-- only a black lace bra to unhook and discard. i climbed on top of his body and gripped him with my insides until he came all over himself.
I tossed him a towel and looked down at him, his face nestled into my pillow like a piglet against a sow's belly, and his freckles seemed to deepen--- his eyelashes seemed to curl up like those of the contented cows in butter commercials. That face i knew so well gazed back at me, bashfully blinking and silently petitioning that i, too, pretend the moment was fresh and virginal.
I smiled, but it was a smile as if for an infant--- both tender and impatient, both sweet and condescending--- and then i fell asleep.
When he left this morning i noticed my sheets has become saturated with his stink. I rose, naked, crossed to the heavy desk and opened a drawer. Inside i found a fat pad of post-it notes and wrote the word "laundry" on the top peice with a black sharpie pen. I peeled it from the rest of the stack, yawning, and went to post it conspicuously on the inside of my apartment's front door.
its nice to know you have a stage for a soliloquy anytime you please. 
a while back i was informed by, incidentally, the same friend i mentioned in my last blog (who i've known since 6th grade) that a particular boy we knew in high school is working as a bartender at a fancy restaurant near my apartment. ever since i have occasionally thought of going down there to buy myself a drink and say hello. (at this point it is relevant to mention i also had a raging crush on him when i was maybe fourteen or fifteen, but have not seen him in many years.) nowadays my motives for going there would be simply to satisfy a curiosity of what became of a high school so-and-so.
but i cannot bring myself to do it! it seems so unnatural when you know ahead of time that such a reunion would happen. because inevitably, stupid things like your outfit come to mind.... its like the first day of a new school-year when you are in junior high!!! you know, you wanted everyone to see how much you'd improved and changed, so you wanted to look good....but you sure as hell couldn't show up in something overdone or flashy because you are young and insecure about others thinking you tried to hard! its silly i realize, but it is similar when you are preparing to confront an old crush who never liked you as more than a friend back in the day. part of me would like to show up in my sexy black dress and heels and lipstick and order anything that comes in a martini glass and slowly eat strawberries with my fingers, just as a favor to that poor awkward mary of years ago who never got his attention. but the more dominant side of me would feel really weird and petty doing that, and argues that the outfit should be jeans and a teeshirt. but then, even THINKING about my fucking outfit seems immature and makes me want to just never ever go to that restaurant.
and then, what would i say? "hey, i heard you worked here, so, here i am!" hahaha like i said, it just seems unnatural.
i dont know.
a while back i was informed by, incidentally, the same friend i mentioned in my last blog (who i've known since 6th grade) that a particular boy we knew in high school is working as a bartender at a fancy restaurant near my apartment. ever since i have occasionally thought of going down there to buy myself a drink and say hello. (at this point it is relevant to mention i also had a raging crush on him when i was maybe fourteen or fifteen, but have not seen him in many years.) nowadays my motives for going there would be simply to satisfy a curiosity of what became of a high school so-and-so.
but i cannot bring myself to do it! it seems so unnatural when you know ahead of time that such a reunion would happen. because inevitably, stupid things like your outfit come to mind.... its like the first day of a new school-year when you are in junior high!!! you know, you wanted everyone to see how much you'd improved and changed, so you wanted to look good....but you sure as hell couldn't show up in something overdone or flashy because you are young and insecure about others thinking you tried to hard! its silly i realize, but it is similar when you are preparing to confront an old crush who never liked you as more than a friend back in the day. part of me would like to show up in my sexy black dress and heels and lipstick and order anything that comes in a martini glass and slowly eat strawberries with my fingers, just as a favor to that poor awkward mary of years ago who never got his attention. but the more dominant side of me would feel really weird and petty doing that, and argues that the outfit should be jeans and a teeshirt. but then, even THINKING about my fucking outfit seems immature and makes me want to just never ever go to that restaurant.
and then, what would i say? "hey, i heard you worked here, so, here i am!" hahaha like i said, it just seems unnatural.
i dont know.
there was something very syrupy about today. it poured out slowly, thick and gold, and i felt like an ancient mosquito encased within it. swami moved from one shaded corner of the hardwood floor to another, letting out long meows and looking at me with both love and contempt as though there was something i could have done about the heat. but i know that fall is closer now that the sun has gone down because i can hear the trash scraping down the street with a gusto it hasn't had for months. the breeze feels good now.
i'd like to make an observation that has been on my mind today due to some comments made by a good friend over the phone. and i say this with no bitterness, just a sense of disappointment....
it seems to be true, at least in my world, that there are few people left who can really overcome their baggage and take any emotional risks. being cynical and unavailable seems to be synonymous with being hip. being even innocently enthusiastic about trying out an actual relationship with someone who excites you is treated as a weakness. which original skinny jeans-wearing, black haired, headband-toting kid decided romance was passe? and why does everyone follow like mice after a piper? im not suggesting we all run around like a bunch idiots in a Delacroix painting, or try to get married to everyone we like, but what is so bad about being vulnerable to another person who obviously cares about you in return??
a great friend of mine just experienced this mindset from an emotionally immature artist who put stars in the palm of her hand and then suddenly acted like it was disgusting the way they left burn marks on her perfect skin. i myself am single, and quite happy being so, but that is not to say i have not felt this same way before.
we all lose people at one point or another who we cant imagine living without. we do not all, however, get to meet alot of people who make us feel that way to begin with... i know for a fact there are alot of people i CAN live without. the thing is, if you are someone who has lost a love in the past and you are reading this, then....um....you are living without them. so, therefore you are able to recover, i assume? personally i find it more of a weakness when someone tells me they are through with relationships and love altogether, as opposed to someone who can regenerate and give of themselves to the right cause with the fierceness of someone who has never been burned.
this one's for you, G.C.
i raise my invisible cocktail and toast the brave romantics left in our generation. i am one. and i will settle for nothing less, and neither should you, sweetie.
i'd like to make an observation that has been on my mind today due to some comments made by a good friend over the phone. and i say this with no bitterness, just a sense of disappointment....
it seems to be true, at least in my world, that there are few people left who can really overcome their baggage and take any emotional risks. being cynical and unavailable seems to be synonymous with being hip. being even innocently enthusiastic about trying out an actual relationship with someone who excites you is treated as a weakness. which original skinny jeans-wearing, black haired, headband-toting kid decided romance was passe? and why does everyone follow like mice after a piper? im not suggesting we all run around like a bunch idiots in a Delacroix painting, or try to get married to everyone we like, but what is so bad about being vulnerable to another person who obviously cares about you in return??
a great friend of mine just experienced this mindset from an emotionally immature artist who put stars in the palm of her hand and then suddenly acted like it was disgusting the way they left burn marks on her perfect skin. i myself am single, and quite happy being so, but that is not to say i have not felt this same way before.
we all lose people at one point or another who we cant imagine living without. we do not all, however, get to meet alot of people who make us feel that way to begin with... i know for a fact there are alot of people i CAN live without. the thing is, if you are someone who has lost a love in the past and you are reading this, then....um....you are living without them. so, therefore you are able to recover, i assume? personally i find it more of a weakness when someone tells me they are through with relationships and love altogether, as opposed to someone who can regenerate and give of themselves to the right cause with the fierceness of someone who has never been burned.
this one's for you, G.C.
i raise my invisible cocktail and toast the brave romantics left in our generation. i am one. and i will settle for nothing less, and neither should you, sweetie.
again i resurface after a long period of time. i am like that... moody and easily disenchanted by the prospect of dealing with all those damn emails and all the people i know who seem to think i cannot be a true friend unless ive sanctioned it by accepting them on myspace. but! time cures all because my email account was closed down and happily all those emails were lost and i can now reopen it and be fresh. i havent had a computer at the house for some time now, and much as i am not ashamed of anything ive ever done, there is a certain normal taboo about sitting at the very public library with big bright pink and white screen wallpapered with naked pictures of yourself. call me old-fashioned, it didnt appeal to me.
so! how are we all? i have had a number of major changes in my life in the past several months. i went through a pretty rough period in vegas (which is where i was when i last wrote in this blog) and came out of it with the opinion that i had been spending so much time preparing for and dreaming of my much more tolerable future that it had become quite costly to my present, which is in fact the only thing that is real. i wanted to go to school in italy and was virtually destroying myself to get there, when all along i should have relaxed, had more patience, and worked on my art more religiously. so i made a decision to take care of my present tense, and got the fuck out of vegas. i hated living there. i hated dancing there and i was tired of needing more money all the time.
i sold my car and drove a uhaul back to portland with swami meowing most the way. man, when i was younger i couldnt wait to get the hell out of portland. now that im back i have an infinitely better perspective of its inherent uniqueness, and i appreciate it so much more. i feel really good being here, and i am happily reunited with some people ive loved and missed for years.
i felt like doing something different, so i started driving a taxi cab. i love it. the stories at night on the weekends, my god. drunk people can be really fkn entertaining. gives me plenty of fresh writing material.
im still planning on going to school this year, but im starting here and i can transfer to italy or wherever later. so there 's the update.
this moment, it is the last bit of dusk and from my old wide windows i watch the west hills light up with amber electrical stars and the neighbor across the street in the second floor apartment is peeling that gross clear fatty layer off a chicken breast hes obviously planning to have for dinner. the shopping cart lady is loudly wheeling away the bottles and cans from my building's recycling bin and mumbling to herself. swami is napping under the couch and i am waiting for my tea water to whistle.
as i mentioned before, all my old emails were erased. therefore if you are a friend reading this, or particularly if you are interested in working with me (modelling, film, promos, etc.) please email me again (same address) because i never received anything you may have sent before. i am especially interested in business proposals and opportunities at the moment because i have a fairly overwhelming amount of bills right now and would like to make some money!! so flood me with offers!! hahaha......
anyway im actually enthused to be online again and i will be pretty consistent with it now that i am more or less settle for a while. so have a wonderful warm summer night.....
so! how are we all? i have had a number of major changes in my life in the past several months. i went through a pretty rough period in vegas (which is where i was when i last wrote in this blog) and came out of it with the opinion that i had been spending so much time preparing for and dreaming of my much more tolerable future that it had become quite costly to my present, which is in fact the only thing that is real. i wanted to go to school in italy and was virtually destroying myself to get there, when all along i should have relaxed, had more patience, and worked on my art more religiously. so i made a decision to take care of my present tense, and got the fuck out of vegas. i hated living there. i hated dancing there and i was tired of needing more money all the time.
i sold my car and drove a uhaul back to portland with swami meowing most the way. man, when i was younger i couldnt wait to get the hell out of portland. now that im back i have an infinitely better perspective of its inherent uniqueness, and i appreciate it so much more. i feel really good being here, and i am happily reunited with some people ive loved and missed for years.
i felt like doing something different, so i started driving a taxi cab. i love it. the stories at night on the weekends, my god. drunk people can be really fkn entertaining. gives me plenty of fresh writing material.
im still planning on going to school this year, but im starting here and i can transfer to italy or wherever later. so there 's the update.
this moment, it is the last bit of dusk and from my old wide windows i watch the west hills light up with amber electrical stars and the neighbor across the street in the second floor apartment is peeling that gross clear fatty layer off a chicken breast hes obviously planning to have for dinner. the shopping cart lady is loudly wheeling away the bottles and cans from my building's recycling bin and mumbling to herself. swami is napping under the couch and i am waiting for my tea water to whistle.
as i mentioned before, all my old emails were erased. therefore if you are a friend reading this, or particularly if you are interested in working with me (modelling, film, promos, etc.) please email me again (same address) because i never received anything you may have sent before. i am especially interested in business proposals and opportunities at the moment because i have a fairly overwhelming amount of bills right now and would like to make some money!!
so flood me with offers!! hahaha......anyway im actually enthused to be online again and i will be pretty consistent with it now that i am more or less settle for a while. so have a wonderful warm summer night.....
sometimes when i need to be at my most productive and focused, i get irritated at all that i expect from myself and, ungracefully, bow out. right now i should be wrapping up the tail end of my monstrous art school application process but the whole thing just has been on my shoulders so long i feel like doing nothing at all about it. instead ive created a little nook in which to be a procratinating hedonist...bags of prepopped popcorn (cause its too much damn work to pop em myself), piles of subtitled movies and invader zim episodes, notebooks on which to make lists i do not intend to follow through with, books of short stories so that i do not even have to have an attention span. i had a two hour conversation with my best friend on the phone, and walking her through the cooking process of sauteed zuccini was about the most important thing i did all day. Swami is of course benefitting from all my laying around...she gets everything she wants as long as she hangs out with me, being warm and fat and nonjudgemental about my laziness...shes mad at me right now though becasue theres no room on my lap and shes scratching the chair, meowing, and wiggling as though to jump up, and then just staring at me in irritation...hahaha. sorry baby, these folks might be mad at me for not being up on my journal....
happy new year! im personally really glad 2005 is over. it wasnt a terribly exciting year for me...2004 i was all over europe, and living in hawaii, and this year i am leaving the country and finishing a whole load of art, and becoming a full-time student...(yikes)....and living back out in italy. but 2005 was like pudding. not bad, but not the kind of dessert you crave...at all.
heres to a new one, and hopefully i'll get out of this progress-slump in enough time to send out my application on time. and i hope all of you find exciting things to do this year too.....
happy new year! im personally really glad 2005 is over. it wasnt a terribly exciting year for me...2004 i was all over europe, and living in hawaii, and this year i am leaving the country and finishing a whole load of art, and becoming a full-time student...(yikes)....and living back out in italy. but 2005 was like pudding. not bad, but not the kind of dessert you crave...at all.
heres to a new one, and hopefully i'll get out of this progress-slump in enough time to send out my application on time. and i hope all of you find exciting things to do this year too.....
gee wiz you guys got pretty excited about that last anger management entry! hmmmm...hahaha
heres another immature thing you can do when you are upset.......
1. buy a box of fruit loops.
2. walk with your cereal in hand to the nearest IRS office, phone company, tele-sales building, or any other universally annoying local institution. find a blank wall that belongs to this institution.
3. eat a whole bunch of one color of the fruit loops at once, swallow. spit on the wall.
4. your spit will be the color of the fruitloop you chose. now pick another, and so on, and spit out a whole colored picture of the person or thing that is on your nerves.
5. it just makes it that much better the your stained spit is all over the IRS office wall. next time you see how much state taxes are removed from your paycheck you can at least smile for a second.
booze or beer is a nice prelude to this suggestion. but not so much that the cereal makes you sick. the pictures just not as cool after you barf on it, you know?
you wont get any grown-up points for this, but who really gives a shit when your in the kind of mood.
by the way i read a great book the other day...read it in a day.
"the perks of being a wallflower" by stephen chbosky.
i recommend it.
heres another immature thing you can do when you are upset.......
1. buy a box of fruit loops.
2. walk with your cereal in hand to the nearest IRS office, phone company, tele-sales building, or any other universally annoying local institution. find a blank wall that belongs to this institution.
3. eat a whole bunch of one color of the fruit loops at once, swallow. spit on the wall.
4. your spit will be the color of the fruitloop you chose. now pick another, and so on, and spit out a whole colored picture of the person or thing that is on your nerves.
5. it just makes it that much better the your stained spit is all over the IRS office wall. next time you see how much state taxes are removed from your paycheck you can at least smile for a second.
booze or beer is a nice prelude to this suggestion. but not so much that the cereal makes you sick. the pictures just not as cool after you barf on it, you know?
you wont get any grown-up points for this, but who really gives a shit when your in the kind of mood.
by the way i read a great book the other day...read it in a day.
"the perks of being a wallflower" by stephen chbosky.
i recommend it.
ever feel so frusterated you throw on some RAAR music and smash old wine bottles? my friend amy and i had an annoying night, each separately, and converged for a purging experience. i highly reccommend this method to cure your pissed off feeling:
!. open a bottle of wine and without shame put at least two more in a row, waiting for the opening.
2. drink a bunch and verbally unload to loud music that could potentially get you kicked out of the neighborhood.
3. together, make a comic each of the person distressing you or misunderstanding you, deep in the action of doing the exact thing you are annoyed by. use india ink. dump water on it when you are done till they are smeared. drink more.
4. fill a bucket with old bottles and thrift store vases, etc. take a shovel to it with all the gusto you got. make caveman faces, drink more wine.
5. sit in the yard outside, or the sidewalk if you have no yard, and pass the bottle back and forth while telling your most weird chilhood stories.
it is marys five-step cure all to geting over an annoying evening. which i have had. but about twelve to 15 smashed bottles later i feel ok about humankind as a species. in general.
!. open a bottle of wine and without shame put at least two more in a row, waiting for the opening.
2. drink a bunch and verbally unload to loud music that could potentially get you kicked out of the neighborhood.
3. together, make a comic each of the person distressing you or misunderstanding you, deep in the action of doing the exact thing you are annoyed by. use india ink. dump water on it when you are done till they are smeared. drink more.
4. fill a bucket with old bottles and thrift store vases, etc. take a shovel to it with all the gusto you got. make caveman faces, drink more wine.
5. sit in the yard outside, or the sidewalk if you have no yard, and pass the bottle back and forth while telling your most weird chilhood stories.
it is marys five-step cure all to geting over an annoying evening. which i have had. but about twelve to 15 smashed bottles later i feel ok about humankind as a species. in general.
