Archive for August, 2010

August 18, 2010

TNWM

and so it has come to pass.

many of you know, and many of you don’t know, that i was away for a few weeks.  not far enough away to be a trip, but enough to know that i was somewhere i was not from, to stay and work in a place that i did not belong.  there was a pull in my chest to return from whence i came.  wherever and whenever i was.

during this time, a very dear friend of mine had died and my client became very ill and i began to crumble under the pressure.  of what?  i am the only person who puts me in trouble.  dare i say i am my own worst enemy.

the signs were clear enough, really.

  • ‘your heart will skip a beat’ – fortune cookie
  • the morbid curiousity of the rotting starling down the street
  • new undead creature addiction
  • never knowing when the last time you will speak to someone.

i wish i knew where all these flies were coming from – besides something that’s rotting.

plunging and reveling in this has been both absurd and refreshing.  having gone through a myriad of depressions before this i knew a task was needed in order to channel the fervent energy away from pathetic vampire tears.

maybe someone remembers KALASHNIKOZY?  i know i do.  needing a project that was going to last me a day or 2, i contacted my prime mover and we’re pursuing it fully.  we’ll see how it pulls through but thankfully, my hands are no longer idle – as for satan and my mind – that is for another day.

home mix

in any case, here’s a mini mix!  a soundtrack for elated sadness, or something.  thoughts?

August 8, 2010

CALLING ALL FREAKS

DO YOU LIKE GREEK TRAGEDIES?
DO YOU HAVE A WEBCAM?

[wow this sounds creepy]

i am looking for someone to read THE MEDEA with me!  we all know the story – but its brilliance is illuminated when read aloud!  it’s sort of like putting on our own private play.  i’ll portion the parts 50/50 [in hopes for the dialogues to be balanced] and we’ll speak in funny voices and it’ll be a riot!  at least, until we hit the infanticide.

August 2, 2010

lasalle

how did I end up here
curled up on this couch?
where did you learn such a bold wink
whisking me off to your bedroom?
mousey toy
this continent is lit by the holocaust
beneath my ribs (between my lips)
mousey toy
how did two tiny ribbons untie
and unfold into a lime tree?
then to darken a room for other men
a dove hit mid-flight turns away



how did i end up here

the pervasive cedar smells

the stumbling upon broken glass beaches

a marked absence lined with paint and dirt pits

scrambling up cliffs to escape the oncoming bog

not yet censored, the layers remain hidden

do kids still hang out beneath bridges?

disarmingly so