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april 26, 2002 orson welles vs. barry white brief early morning note -- aack, it's 5:30 in the morning -- prior to taking off to nyc. plane leaves in a couple of hours and i am, of course, looking forward to it. although, an acquaintance is on her way to the mexican caribbean, and i must admit that i am a wee bit jealous of her tropical sojourn. got new shoes the other night and have been battling to break them in. i am losing miserably, but i've got the stamina, baby, to go the distance & win the war. i have no idea why i'm writing about it, perhaps i'm just engaging in a rather unfortunate (for you) free association. sailing excursion has been semi-worked out. we're hoping to hook up in newport, oregon -- yes, the town that would not serve me alcohol -- we'll see how it falls into place. the gent is, as expected, very nonchalant about the whole affair, which is a welcome influence on my annoyingly acute case of control freak. five hours on a plane -- i am arriving equipped with vitaminwater and a spanking new copy of the accordion crimes. when next we meet, it will be time to celebrate mexican independence! get your tequila shirt on! |
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april 24, 2002 "my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder" week has been hectic, trying to tie up a variety of work-related loose ends prior to heading off to nyc. yay! i'm really excited about the trip. jaunt to portland was a grand time, save for the rather unfortunate theft of my pal's belongings from her car during the show. i like that town quite a bit, i'd even think about moving there if the weather was better. why move from one pissing rain town to another? at least in new orleans it's a warm pissing rain, goddammit! (yes -- still a-teasing myself with the idea of moving there.) nick cave = muy excelente, claro que si! quite a different show than with the dirty three, much more punk-charged and frenetic. we were smashed right up against the stage for most of the time, but it was delish. picked up some more books at powell's -- i really need to think about signing up for a library card. it's my fetish : i'm not too big on clothes, shoes, jewelry, cars. . . . gimme books! still at a crossroads with the job, of course. i'm thinking about doing something drastic, but trying to keep my head in check so that i don't end up regretting a choice made because i'm so incredibly burnt out right now. one of my minions is leaving, and we totally related to each other in regard to just not really wanting to have a career in the telecommunications industry. working for this company has been so excellent personal-growth-wise, it's difficult to walk away. i've also got some debts to reckon with, so it's helpful to have a nice sized paycheck coming in on a regular basis, but i need to divorce myself from that mentality. i was thinking about music & performance on the bus ride home today. really, i do love singing more than anything i've ever done. performing gives me a rush, definitely, but the most powerful experiences have been influenced by an intimate interaction while making the music itself. intermingling, really, and not sticking to the audience/performer style so much. conversation, direct request/result, improvisation. what i learned in ireland was how music really works as a communication/empathy medium, and that's how it becomes art -- only when it speaks to and for the people involved. that it must be centered in a reality, born of cohesive interdependence, to stand up and be counted amongst the truly expressive. that instead of focusing on the commodity music has become, highlighting its interaction with humanity and then allowing those who relate to adopt it as part of their general lexicon. when thinking about who/what i am and want, i have come to feel i am about relating. spending quite a bit of my time by myself could be considered an impediment to community, but it seems that by sequestering myself at times assists me in empathizing with existence & the inherent trials/tribulations therein. if i look at my present employ, that is really the most essential part of it for me -- speaking with my coworkers and assisting them with spirit, humor, and observation. but these are just life skills themselves, i can apply them to all parts of myself & my goals, and i must remember that this present role is just one of many adventures i plan to embark on in my life. tonight is errand running/shopping and dinner con mi madre. oh, and my least favorite part of traveling : packing. nudists unite! meep, meep. |
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april 21, 2002 leaving just in time this afternoon we're heading down to portland for to see nick cave @ the crystal ballroom. he's coming to seattle tomorrow night, but myself & a couple other sweeties talked ourselves into making the trip down to p-town as the performance space is significantly more delicious. cripes -- too much stuff! it's painful to be a pack rat that doesn't like having stuff. |
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april 20, 2002 (dream on) in a bit of a quandary -- as usual. i have an opportunity at work to take things to the next level, learn new things and hopefully influence some very positive growth, but it will require a whole heckuva lotta commitment on my part. sure, i've worked pretty hard at what i'm doing, but i look at this next step and wonder if it's something i really want to take. pros include the challenge itself, the notion of learning a whole new methodology, and figuring out what i'm capable of in regard to coordination/facilitation and contributing to the design of an organization. these are all really excellent reasons to take the leap. cons include the commitment & devotion itself, and the impact the decision could have on other aspects of my life & my goals. although, it could be argued that learning how to balance this rather enormous task with the other parts of myself might be an interesting and worthy challenge itself. but what about redirecting this same level of commitment to music? or writing? will the energy i put into this job detract from my ability to pursue the more artistic paths -- the disciplines in which i would truly love to be working? i do have the choice, however. i could just walk away from this circumstance and decide it was time to leap into a different, less structured unknown. and the comfort this present position provides is, in many ways, a tricky soma -- not necessarily conducive to kick st(art)ing. my plan is this : lay the job-related groundwork next week & then head off to nyc for a most welcome and highly anticipated romp with b for ten days. it's all about perspective, baby. and of course, if i don't like the direction i'm heading, i can just start auctioning off the days. |
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april 17, 2002 land line cut it up a bit last night at the new rendezvous. it's a pretty place, and i was really excited to learn that babe, the staple of the crocodile cafe as far as i was concerned, is working there now as well. certainly, i do miss the raunch of the former dingier palace, but it's a tolerable replacement -- we just need to break it in a bit. fresh from brooklyn nueva york, here's a snippet of some scene :
a sailing opportunity hath presented itself!! one of the long-term speakeasy folks is sailing back up to seattle from san diego in may. i told him i wanted to learn how to sail & he offered me the chance to sail back with him. i'm totally thrilled by the prospect -- he's leaving on 5/1 and i will be in nyc until 5/5, so i'm hoping we can work out a location where we can hook up & i can continue to sail up the coast with him. he's an excellent guy, very chill, relaxed, and utterly zen. we'll see how it pans out. mi madre sent me this food for thought. p.s. i want to die from this. |
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katherine oak in today's meditation, i intend to discuss the following spooks : all things self-adhesive, the methodology behind powdered coffee/tea, and calypso. we'll see how far i get. new interpretation (como wishful thinking) of that which sticks : adhesia -- as in, "i recall everything, i suffer from adhesia." or, "you only remember what you want to -- selective adhesia!" in a world rife with excuses, recollection could be considered a curse, an illness -- the result of a tragic accident involving cotton balls and honey. a la sr. flagg : "i always forget never exists." seriously, i cannot think of a more apt statement when referring to imitation coffee/tea. i absolutely have nothing to say here, except, "why?" sheila chandra. do it. (try speaking in tongues, or om namaha shiva, sugar.) miss lu is chasing her tail. she's almost ten years old -- you'd think she'd have caught it by now. that's calypso for you : she has a delicious ass. |
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april 14, 2002
just give into it, okay?
ooh, yeah -- it's a prince kinda day. |
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april 13, 2002 http://google.yahoo.com/bin/query?p=photo+girl+on+sinking+canoe i am poised. fingers in all the right places, catching up in the keys. ready for verbosity to tumble forth. this evening, i caught the last half of a rather disturbing video for an aphex twin song. had i been informed of the artist to begin with, i would have been absolutely unsurprised; their approach to music merits nothing less, i suppose. featured in this clip were the writhing bodies of several breathtakingly beautiful women -- all lacquered up in gold lame (with an accent) & belly chains -- whipping so much hair around that for several frames it did not register that they had twisted faces -- a la the warner bros. cartoon prank of the super-sexy harem girl with the face of a human-donkey hybrid. i'm not quite sure why the video was so disturbing to me. perhaps it could be attributed to the song itself, coupled with the unchecked display of photogenic carnality, that led me to squirm in my seat. of course, i was not able to switch channels because i had become an unwilling slave to the piece, so piqued by its manner that i had to sit through the remaining minutes to learn who would produce such a display -- as was its intention. after the video was over, it cut to a short break, in which the "host" announced we were being treated to a hit list of the "most controversial videos of all time." the moniker itself led to sheer bemusement, as, truly, how controversial can one get in commercialized music? it seems ideas "worthy" of controversy are simply unabashed references to the human condition. saturday night. i'm home, alone, sipping on a beer & tracing past participles into miss lu's belly. i must admit, she has become quite talented in the "look, no claws! i'ma sock you in the eye!" bit. i'd almost like to congratulate myself on my newly developed ability to identify the twinge in her eyes as the purring turns on a dime into an all-out fistfight, but celebration of just such a skill is. . . . . kinda pathetic. |
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april 9, 2002 words are meaningless, and unforgettable when i was younger & had a more limited experience, i would daydream about these "amazings" living out in the world, just waiting for me to stumble upon them. . . . a wealth of discovery which would eventually illicit some brand of meaning -- pinpoint passion. as i've headed off in different directions & experienced many of these "amazings," i've learned that they exist in complex sequences of equal parts good & bad -- a welcome multi-dimension which allows me to appreciate them all the more -- but i've also found their wonder does not absolutely translate to passion, to meaning. all the frustration in my daily life has really nothing to do with my present circumstance. i have always felt as if i have this major drive, motivation, to do something -- although i have no idea what it is. it's a crippling feeling -- to know what you're doing at the moment isn't what you should be doing, but having no idea how to find out what it is you should be doing. . . . how to find meaning? i've addressed this topic several times in this journal, among others. it is a continuing struggle -- and i'm certain that i am not alone in it. how do other people successfully function within their constructs, eventually finding passion? how to conquer dissatisfaction? it's not like i ain't willing to do the work, baby doll -- i ain't walking around with the expectation that something grand should just be handed to me. i'd be willing to stay up for weeks straight if i could just put my pretty little finger on it -- i crave it : find my passion, set my course, and get on with it. the "shit together" moniker seems to sport a tricky ebb-and-flow feature como life itself. is the fault in being too cautious? or do i just think too fucking much? feeling like it's never enough, no matter how much brain is put on the line. . . . can't get enough thoughts to surround it, own it, define it, learn from it. . . . nothing synching up -- except frustration. all this presence, these hiccuping corners, dusky light sliding through the blinds and rolling all over the bed/table/floor -- catching miss lu up in a suntrap, all glassy-eyed & mesmerized by the illusion of warmth. y sneezing : i sometimes forget how smooth my skin is and am reminded when chilled fingers run into each other on the keyboard's labyrinth. squat knuckles, hints of scars, & vein freeways hinting at their lapis existence. p.s. : a cellololly for to suck on. |
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april 1, 2002 move over & give us some room, yeah night, night, night. been thinking on my various attempts at creativity & pondering ways in which i can keep myself from getting too drug down by all the details. like work. there is an intriguing side to it all, which lies primarily in a sphere of exploration essential to contributing to a more holistic organization. all the nitty gritty behind it is where the real dirt comes in, gets muddy, washes over again -- wish i could grab it & hopscotch into serenity. blissful bitch! & then there is this : strange revelation of a new dynamic affecting one of my most cherished friendships. it's lovely, to tell you the truth, quite lovely to feel the freedom of exchange -- on a semi-academic level, which allows for error and hypotheses. & sweetness! remind me to never discount the sugar again! i've tried hard to never pretend to be someone who i am not. it hasn't always worked out, however, because sometimes, in certain circumstance, i have no fucking idea who i am -- but i endeavor to maintain this humility (however fleeting & one-dimensional) in all my relationships. what pisses me off the most, what really gets under my skins and causes me a unified frustration, is disrespect -- as defined by someone's refusal to be absolutely honest with me, the underestimation of thinking i cannot benefit from constructive criticism. as i grow older, i see all the pitfalls & the motions that have contributed to a greater sense of relationship with all things, and i would have not learned some of my most prized skills if it had not been for the almost brutal honesty of a fellow traveler. people come & go, function in their own cycles, and it's lovely to know them for the short portion of time allowed. & then, there are those that just keep coming back -- and it is absolutely invigorating. it has lent me the budding ability to look beyond linearity, the oft-referenced beginnings/middles/ends almost always associated with paths in life. wait a minute, sweet thing: the very reference to "paths" we travel indicates that we could be selecting very rigid realities in which to operate:
but my memory is not a source to be truly trusted -- sometimes i need to re-experience an activity to get it's message. i embrace the mixing of noctur/inter/external presented by a sometimes messy grasp on events & time. often, i think of how much a prisoner of our own cause-and-effect socialization we are. certainly, i can't get far enough away to actually see it all hiccuping into each other, can't truly ascertain the cage -- i'm only just hoping one exists. is that peculiar? to hope that we can never truly understand something that operates on an intensely grander scale -- not a religious creed, by any means, more a terrifically multidimensional fabric interweaving amidst all the physicality humanity prizes so much? break -- to meditate. . . . but can i just say how fucking awesome i think it is that someone found my website by searching in yahoo for shit lover ?? i knew that tracker was good for something : bemusement it is! |