RAMBLINGS, OBSERVATIONS, AND MISTRANSLATIONS

~JUNE 29, 1998~

i am writing this at 1:47 a.m. by candlelight. on molded pond has taken in a peaceful breath and expelled the sweet scent of egyptian musk. i remember that last year at this time i was preparing for the six hour bus ride from puerto viejo to san jose, costa rica to pick up my partner in crime, chris, at the airport. my, how time flies. am i having fun?

of course i am.

and you can, too. e/mat has upped the ante with his new trances, there's four new ones, two which i just added this moment. check 'em if you haven't already. and, as usual, i'm talking about timezones & cherries, but i threw those up about a week ago, so perchance you've already taken a gander. if not, you know tha drill. y, finalmente, miss leslie's goodies are up and waiting for all y'all to see. these are the pieces i made out of the scans we did about a month ago. they're fun.

oh, and for you sweet nothings out there just a bit too shy to write to miss ~kat~, i've just scored a free little guestbook along with a dinky counter, so please sign it if you feel the need. hell, even if you don't feel it, sign on up. you know how i love notas from my lickle tansies.

oh, happy day! received my very first paying freelance graphic design job yesterday!! that's swankin', cuz y'all know how talented i am.....(ahem).....but i've been doing stuff for free, just to get my name out there. although i know i should have been motivated to market myself more voraciously before this new job, scoring it has added some wind in my sails and i'm feeling like i need to spend more time workin' mah voodoo.

you know that i've been planning to head back to school, and it's been a constant question of whether or not film or graphic design should be my next modus operandi. both are equally appealing, so i've been batting 'em back and forth. then, the other day i'm lookin' at tha paper and i see an ad offering training as a midwife. for some wacky reason, i called the number and asked for info. each time i've mentioned this to anyone, their first reaction has been, "hey, i bet you'd be really good at that." so, as with everything, we'll see, but i feel this strange inertia pulling me towards enrolling in this course. i mean, there's a trade that won't be eradicated by the tides of economy......J

oh, all the twists and turns. i've been missing my brazilian paramour, of course, like fuckin' crazy, but it's not been too bad. i've been enjoying my solitude, though, what little bit i can work in around everything else!

anyway, i swear i had something poignant to say, but at this time of the predawn morning, it escapes me. sleep, however, does not. more later.....?

~JUNE 20, 1998~

summer solstice

sometimes i wish i played the saxophone. i get this feeling deep within my belly and it drives me nuts, as if the only way to express it is to expel it in gorgeous gasps of soulful horn. i would drink rum and cokes and play it all night long, much to the considerable duress, i'm sure, of my neighbors. sometimes you gotta just dive into it, though. sometimes you just have to rage.

when i was in ireland a few years ago, anita and i built a huge bonfire on this date and burnt things that we liked.....or, rather, symbols of things that we liked. i collected an impressive amount of wild buttercups and gave each petal the name of someone i knew, somwhere, sometime. i named names all the way back into kindergarten and then threw the petals in the luscious licks of the blazing fire. it was a prayer, of sorts, on the longest day of the year, for all the people i can remember. wishing them good luck in only the most simple of ways, by thinking of them.

and last night i skanked into a nightclub i've never been to before, got out on the dance floor and grooved so unapologetically, i cleared a circle around myself. i think that dancing is the most private thing we can do in public without embarrassing eachother. i just melt into the beat and.....swim through the ecstacy i can taste in the guitar licks and bass lines. it feels good to be that free and not care what will happen next, where tomorrow will lead us. today i spent a considerable amount of time reeling in the scrumptious feeling of being. charlie, my neighbor, and i smoked pot, had a delicious picnic, built a worktable for me, and napped in the sun. we also pruned and talked and did laundry and relished our good fortune in living in such a comfortable little compound. i'm not sure how much longer i can swing it financially, but the time i've spent on molded pond has proven to reveal to my rather insolent self some of the peace that i've been looking for in anywhere but here.

like marcus aurelius said, "the universe is change, life is understanding." everything is changing as i type and this excites me almost fluidly. i hope this summer solstice brings you, my sweet nothings, some of this lovely peace and bliss that i'm feeling. if so, revel in it, and if not.....well, why not?

~JUNE 19, 1998~

"i had a dream last night, and it fit me like a glove."

in my nearly tireless efforts to make this, da temple ov imagi nation, a joyous experience, i have overhauled these lickle notas.....sorta. well, i'm not sure if fucking around with the order of the dates can actually be considered a redecoration, but being of the slacker generation, i'm the first to congratulate myself on even the most miniscule of accomplishments. it just occured to me that it'd be easier for you, my sweet nothings, to know if i'd cooked up anything new on my mirthful imitation leather/imitation lover planet if i had the freshest of concoctions glowing right when you entered. yes, it's taken this long for the idea to sink in. but just look at the bright side, it could have been years. oh, the mere thought of the strain i'd put on the ojos of my sweet nothings.....almost enough to make me......well......spit.

i have been sick. i know i've bitched about this before, ranting about menthol at 4 a.m. and the like, but i need to share witchy'all how wretchedly bubonic i've been feeling. if you have a cough in december, the gen pub is cool with it, they can smooth over your runny nose and itchy eyes cuz it's winter and everybody is as sick as puck. but when you have a cold in the summer time (yes, seattle, look at that calendar.....it is june,) everybody looks at you with a sour expression of what disease are you rotting from? this is made even worse by my naturally surly disposition, of course, and has been causing social problems from here to nantucket. i've never been to nantucket, but in the shape i'm in now, i doubt i'd have very many friends there.

so, i've begun to receive fan mail, and let me tell you, it is wetting my goodies like nuttin' else. how utterly saucy, i say. if more of y'all would speak up i wouldn't feel so fucking inept most of the time. remember, i'm only as good as you criticize my self-deprecating ass to be. so yell! rant! bitch! smooch! come all over those emails! i don't care. i just want 'em. i know miss thedsy-bits is absolutely embarrassed by my barenekkid beggin', but you've all seen her tits. she can get email by flouncing, the rest of us have to work for it.

having a conversation with one of my local sweet nothings earlier in the day brought up an interesting topic: bucking the so-called system. i sincerely wasn't sure if there was a "system" anymore.....or even an "us" and "them" mentality. maybe i've been treading water in the murky gray waters of compromise for too long now, but i can't seem to see anything as cut and dry as that anymore. i wish i knew who was "wrong". certainly, i know who's right (me), and i guess that's half the battle. as my more succulent sweet nothings know, i recently went through a rather nasty bout with an empty-brand of depression incited by my lack of belief in anything. what brought me out of it was my superbud (?) peter portensemal knocking me on my virtual ass with emails reminding me that god is in the details. i know this, we all know this.....i think. and when i think of there being a system to buck, i think of some large machine that has no entrances or exits, no reason or logic, just a sturdy bastard of a block draped in tradition and the tried-n-true methods of w.a.s.p.s. that's the mirage in my head. and it escapes me when i want to blame because deep down i understand that i'm responsible for the quality of my details. if my imagination is lacking, why is that anyone else's fault? i'm the first to admit that i'm often guilty of oversimplification, and perchance you might feel that this is yet another case of that, but i think the only "system" we have to buck is the fear in ourselves. i imagine everyone knows what they should do with their life, what's important is finding the simple courage to do it. so, instead of asking that all-too-cliched question, "what are you going to be when you grow up?" perhaps we should just ask, "when are you going to grow up?" because, as i see it, true maturity comes from breaking free from the strongest bonds we as humans know: the ones we place on ourselves. everything else, that's just icing.....so choose your own flava.

~JUNE 15, 1998~

in the quiet of the morning, the predawn minutes filtering in through the blue velvet-like windows of on molded pond, shaves of grey so ethereal, so preternatural that i felt as if i was lying in a grave, reading the breeze to see what kind of day it would be.....in that peace i laid in bed and drank my favorite tea, sonando con los angeles, with an infectious grin on my face. last night jonathan, my sweet brazilian, called me to come pick him up from the boat he is working on so that he could spend the night with me.....what a gift! the part i dreaded the most, sleeping alone, was put off, if only for a few more nights. this morning, we drank tea together and laughed at how we were like an old married couple.....drinking tea and rubbing menthol on our chests at four in the morning. we're both sick as dogs with a strange flu and we pampered and soothed eachother last night with teas and chicken soup and laughter.

after dropping him off at the dry dock, watching the fisherman filter in with their lunch pails and hard hats, i was caught in a traffic jam just off denny way due to a bicycle race in progress. while people shouted and growled and honked and grumbled, ranita bonita and i just purred quietly to ourselves, listening to something on npr about migratory birds and lighted skylines. i still can't get over the peace i feel.

i finished isabel allende's the infinite plan last night and, as usual, she has lent me a cornucopia of fresh ideas and images to feel and ponder and mull over in the night. i enjoy her writing so much it's almost addictive. in her strange and eventful life she has experienced so many peculiar tragedies and triumphs, and you can feel her voice, tainted and swayed with the minutes of her days, you can almost taste her experiences themselves. when i think of writing a book, i think of all the "books" that i've started, realizing early on that i didn't have the exposure or the knowledge to keep it going. so i would go out, search for information, and generally be led away from where i began, beginning new "books".....start it all over again. i remember reading a review of a book once in which the critic detailed the author's life and said something like, "finally, a return to the classic authors of yore, who actually lived a life before writing about it." i was utterly impressed with that thought and decided that.....no stresses. if i have a book to write, it will come. and all i can do in the meantime is observe and experience and record all the seemingly little things that occur.....but most importantly live. so maybe one day i'll write about lying in bed with my sweet brazilian, or about how, when he and i first met, i thought to myself, "i think i'd like to marry this man." then again, maybe i won't. in the long run, it doesn't really matter, i suppose. but sharing human experience with those that are interested is crucial to human existence. maybe i won't write a book to share it, but i assure you, i've got a big enough mouth that, one way or another, you'll hear about it.

~JUNE 14, 1998~

well, my boys left this morning, in a flurry of backpacks and lingering kisses.....and it's strange because i'm kind of sad about it, about coming home to an empty on molded pond. lilian is here, but she's not been much company since she found a new treehouse. i'd forgotten, almost, how enjoyable company can be.....of course, the most hollow part of their absence will be my cold bed, not because i'll miss the sex (although that was fabulous) but because i'll miss holding someone in the night, or snuggling my nose down deep into the scent-enriched armpit of my brazilian lover.....and i'll miss the spankings and the laughter. over the last week we had cultivated a juicy brand of comraderie that i think only travellers can know.....the willingness to let go and just be absolutely honest and caring and loving and silly with people just because there will be no consequences....or at least, there is the feeling that there will be no consequences, which is pretty much the same thing. even though i'm not travelling, it was rather envigorating to have an infusion of the freedom and open-wideness of travel. in fact, i think it has almost sated my travel bug, for the time being. this last week was silly crazy and i had a blast, but i'm glad i can settle back into my la-di-da way of life again, just in time for summer.....

on friday night, the three of us went to a birthday party for henna-ed heather, and we ended up at the re-bar, having an amazing time dancing to the smooth ride of hiphopyadontstop. jonathan and i danced our asses off, he is a wild dancer, a very strong lead, and we did twists and turns and dips and grinds and laughed so hard i thought that maybe i had confused what heaven was before, because surely this was it. of course, i suppose it all comes down to personal heavens, and i'm sure i could find a heaven in any moment i choose. that's what imagination is for.

this last week, with the beer, pool, strip clubs, world cup rivalry, gambling, kisses, spankings, lewd innuendo, and whinnie the pooh golf suits has been definitely one of the coolest chunks of my life, and i'm certain i'll keep it in my memory as one of my favorite weeks. i feel like i need to lay in bed with a cup of tea and savor all the minutes, just to really appreciate them to their optimum degree. sometimes i forget how beautiful the surprises of life can be.....i get caught in the doldrums and i can't see land for days. and sometimes i don't love as much as i should.....or taste.....or laugh.....or touch.....and i can feel the wear of my removed air. i can feel how my laugh lines don't get any deeper and the laughter itself begins to sound more and more hollow, leaving the taste of dade-county-esque humidity on my lips, moist and womb-like, but altogether harsh and inanimate. meeting people like this, that wonderful gift of shared human experience, is what we're here for.....it is the design of life.

"you've got to dance like nobody is watching and love like it's never going to hurt."

despite the heartbreak and hi-jinx of my history, and of human history, i appreciate nothing more than the quiet, sensual, and completely innocent quality of human doggedness. we'll burn our hands on the stove of love until we become clouds in the sky. but that's why love is so hot. and that's why we keep coming back.

p.s.: one of my local sweet nothings, after reading these rants for the first time, told me i should write a book. i laughed, cuz i think i already am. what do you think?

~JUNE 10, 1998~

somebody take my temperature, i think i've got world cup fever. that's the only explanation i can figger as to the reason i drug my hungover ass outta bed at seven o'clock this morning just to join a rowdy bunch of irishmen at a local pub to watch the charming theatrics of brazil vs. scotland. of course, brazil's only support came from me and one of my haphazard houseguests, who happens to hail from that fine country of pele and tourist murder. scotland was a formidable match as it seemed that brazil was lazier than me on a jungle hammock, but it's still pretty pathetic that when scotland plays their best they still get beat when brazil is playing their worst. c'est la vie. my cohort and i were further seduced into sticking around for the norway vs. morroco match, and this time we opposed eachother. this proved to be of no consequence as the game was a draw, but morroco definitely has stronger technical prowess and they are faster than fuck. norway just played catch up. i can't wait to see brazil wipe both those teams across the field. it's all art, baby.

but, enough about soccer. i was having a discussion with one of my houseguests about the nature of experiencing life.....goals, etc. although we saw eye to eye on so many things, it was strange to have the realization, yet again, of how different men and women see things. is it as cut and dry as genetic predetermination, as camille paglia suggests? it's interesting to me, nonetheless, to taste the idealism and perspective of the male mind. i admire it, although i am glad that i am not it. my brazilian houseguest said he admired me because i've got my shit together and i've got it all figured out, i know where i'm going. i laughed at this because both you, my sweet nothings, and i know that i haven't a damn thing figured out, but perhaps it's my contentment in learning and willingness to accept and dive into experience that has my friend running the gambit in admiration. or perhaps i do have things "figured out" and i just don't know it yet. you know i'm always open to all y'all's figgered out goodies, so fill my box with 'em iffin ya wanna.

now, onto more grandiose things. like.....the new isabel allende book i bought. all about sex and food. yum. my two favorite subjects. it has loads o' luscious recipes for goodies and i'm stoked to check them out. since my houseguests will be around for another couple of weeks, it'll be nice to have some pobre guinea pigs to test 'em out on. as if dealing with my scorpio ass wasn't enough, they have to eat my cooking, too. that's right, venga al miss ~kat~'s, it's like coney island, only spicier.

".....nothing quite like the feel of something new....."

~JUNE 9, 1998~

".....just another pilot down....."

so, you know, everybody rolls the dice. whether we know it or not, we are constantly betting, gambling, hoping.....what the fuck ever. and i will tell you this: if we ever knew what would be the outcome of each and every gamble, bet, or roll.....we'd never do it. we'd stay in bed all day, or let the water run cold in the bathtub, or suddenly forget how to operate a motor vehicle while in an intersection.....and i'll tell you another thing: i'm glad as fuck that i don't know. it's the reason i do get out of bed: to find out what's going to happen. oh, happy surprises.

someone wrote me a letter and said they missed this bullshit. so i guess i'm not the only one reading it, and thank god for that. nothing like communicating with your alters via a website. then again, i can't think of a better use of bandwidth. is it arrogance? boredom? reckless abandon? i'd like to think it's varying shades of the three. faith has brought my sweet nothings to the foreground, mebbe i oughta get a counter on this thing so i can find out how many people actually do come here. then again, i don't think i want to know.

i've been blessed with a lusciously haphazard pair of houseguests. you know, travellers just travelling. here at on molded pond, we've never had houseguests and i've been able to force my experimental cooking prowess on these starving sweeties. call it control issues, i rather like having silly boys under my feet.....we ripped out the shitty bar/counter that took up way too much space in the living room and now the room feels like it has doubled in size. ever since i bought her a catmint plant, lilian, as well as the neighborhood kitties, have taken to licking and carooning sweet serenades to those silly leaves. it's given her something more to do than hang around moo-moo-meowing at me in boredom. i like to keep her occupied, since an idle puss is almost a crime.

what else? ah, yes, lapdance leslie and i are still working out the particulars for the comedy sketch show we've come to discuss almost in obsessional amounts. you wait until we're broadcast across the nation.....it'll be bigger than the truman show, i swear to god.

~JUNE 1, 1998~

open wide.

It was a funny disjointed smile of a groan

and it was borne of the boredom

I spit out when I’m in the shower

and I get water in my mouth

i took a hiatus. i really needed one. and in this hiatus i nearly disappeared from everything and everyone i knew.....to the extent that one of my lovers asked me over dinner, "who are you?" it never fails to amaze me how long it takes those you love to realize you are not really there.

you know, i've been cooking a lot and i even conjured up my infamous dish of seduction for one of my lusty-bits the other night.....in fact, i arranged an entire evening of making food for him and giving him a gift that he needed but didn't know it......and being silly, drinking beer, smoking pot.....and feeling his breath against my neck after we danced the magical mambo. aside from that, i've been making a blissfully entertaining lot of experimental dishes and generally just throwing aside all my usual preconceptions of cooking in lieu of science. art, art, art.

lapdance leslie sacrificed all her hottie goodies in the name of another science: miss ~kat~'s saucy penchant for scanned-body-part-art. we stayed up late and contorted her on the scanner at the cafe and generally just got too silly for tv. i'm in the process of fucking around with 'em and after i've transferred them to physical status i'ma post 'em up in this here sitie-poo. i'm always giving you, my sweet nothings, a little taste of the neverending tale-spin that is my creative posession.

speaking of lapdancing, i've been doing a pretty swankin' rendition of it in my wiggly-silly faux-performance art bit that i've performed before the public eye two times, much to the utter amusement of two braids and his hipslinkorganicloungehop band mustard, catsup, relish. basically, i bellydance while straddling his didgeridoo and achieve a faux-orgasm.....playing on the whole vibrations theme of the didge. it's hilarious. and fun. and totally silly. dammit amit gave his last pre-italia performance on saturday night, along with the firey combo of tabasco & hollypena (a.k.a. decadent dave and scrumptious serafina.) it was a goddamn good fuckin' time, and y'all in the area, keep one eye peeled for upcoming t&h collaborations. i swear there is nothing quite like choreographed fire eating duos.

oh, one last note before i dance off to create some tawdry art.....saw the fear and loathing in las vegas piece and i've decided that it deserves all the pans the mainstream media is giving it. and the mainstream people. i say fuck them if they can't spot a nice piece of trash with style when they see it. what confounds me is, why would they expect anything more? what do they think "cult" means, anyway?