THIS JUST IN

EVERY DAY IS SATANIC SATURDAY !

be good // imbolc // our virus

 

 

 

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our virus is the sun.

our sublime slandering.

you are the opponent of the moral.

our love yawns.

selfish sin is dark, dissatisfied.

a parade of transcendental values.

our instinct for laughter.

our virus is virtue, infinite.

our brave chaos.

our gilded curiousity.

our bored metaphor.

secret selves grasped.

unspoken spiritualization suspended.

inner horizon of exultant multiplicity.

our glittering discipline.

our clumsy charm.

Zany Zine Zone

zine sun lovin’

the newest member of the 6PPP family is YARNBOMBING

deluxxe 1st edition of 20 come with 3 MINIBOMBS!

so, if you’re jonesing for some immediate tagging, i’d get it ASAP

XylaChai

How long, how long did your estuary run?
Did you call yourself a father?
Did you call yourself so dumb?
Did you call yourself a shovel that was suffocating fun?

guys

i am so bad at this

i swear i’ve been good

working at the gallery, babysitting and such has lead me to believe i am ‘busy’

and what with my whole one class this semester

it’ll get me real far.

in other news i’ve been crushing violets, yelling at phones, avoiding hairy necks, pilfering seeds, chasing tails, eating [mostly] raw, feeding fish, sleeping with the decameron shoved under my pillow for plague dreams, wanting to be dame darcy when i grow up, counting down the days to 24, knitting my hands off, bruising my hips, possibly going to the gun show [?], and other nonsense.  i’m sure there’s more but no one cares so here’s some stuff

[camera’s still bust]

new zine! took me absolute days to piece this guy together and its still horrendously written. I’M A VISUAL ARTIST. ahem.

i also recently knit a larger than life sized kalashnikov! i succeeded! next up —- chainsaw??

september is the one month that isn’t full of surprises. the cool routine is refreshing but i daresay in the long run, i should mess it up a bit because the following months tend to be excruciatingly difficult. let’s do this right, this time. for once. i’m getting too old for this heartbreak business.
one thing to look forward to is the highly anticipated move out of this…city. in the spring. so.

sirenomelie

for all those in the greater montreal area

DON’T BURN WITCHES

SEE A SHOW

the work is for sale but the event is FREE!

hope to see you there! [i’ll be the girl with the sequins of course]

bombs not guns

Now the rain’s like gravel on old tin roof
And the Burlinton Northern’s pullin’ out of the world
With a head full of bourbon and a dream in the straw.
And a Gun Street Girl was the cause of it all.

comfort tagging, yarn bombing, grafknitti [though i’m not much of a knitter]

i do this for many reasons

like rebelling against the colour grey which we are coerced into having a relationship with in this disgusting urban environment

like opening up a dialogue with my fellow citizens.  living in a closed world, the subversive act of doing something unusual in a public space creates a safe place to ask the questions ‘what are you doing?’ ‘who are you?’

this is a good thing, i tell myself

this is not like dancing alone

this is like being something realer

this is reeling from the blow of returning to the [un]fair city.

the light here is not unlike trying to photograph heat
my keyboard is still set to german because i couldn’t stop writing about einstürzende neubauten

here’s to hoping my Ys and Zs are easilz transferable and feral enough to hold their own

in effort to not turn into a sponge, i created a little [semi small] art book of 10 mixed media drawings

to the mewling of our qat outside, i dreamed of hugging and running to the sea.

i wonder what that feels like.

collect all one

so bury these peculiarities with me

BURNING NEW YORK

a 48 page zine about Bergamot and Vetiver, 2 gals with sticky fingers let loose in heatwave new york.  it is both fiction and nonfiction – 24 pages in colour!!!  [that’s why it’s a bit more $ but SO WORTH IT]

he grew sand in his hair

things are gonna change, i can feel it

this one goes out to all the friends and lovers of the evolution

all those who have been told they don’t exist

those deemed not real enough to live

this one is for you —

[translation] there’s a new ZINE in the SHOP

featuring my story ‘the imaginary’ [an edited version of imaginary // a smut of clover] and some of my very favourite things — TRIangles !  thousands of them!

the nasturtiums dont look like they’ll be blooming anytime soon

so i’ve been eating their leaves

a peppery goodness with tofu

because when they do reveal their colours

i won’t be here

CALIBRATION

there’s a little CALIBRATION ,,,, in the air ,,,,,,

misaligning your chips to mine

you shouldn’t have yelled so low, so long

we don’t sway like we used to

in the days of kicked it punk heads

but the body moves on in the dark

she’s working on here mermaid hair

head hanging under the faucet

kelp bleeding wet follicles

one of these days we’ll get it right

with the exception of swan tails and bunny grass

feeling a home fumbling in a foreign country

closer than a mother tongue

i felt that

you do not seem to notice

i was one once

Brian Stonedstown Massacred

i don’t even like cinnamon gum, but i took it anyway

for the long trip to dehydration

40 year old [ex?] junkies strolling on stage

the apotheosis of a thousands times before

the machine of cool is a grimace and a nod

all the classics of a dying breed

even if you can’t really mosh to ‘who?’

leave to this asshole city to try

straight up and down ROCK AND OR ROLL

dear matt hollywood

i’m sorry i called you a wiener in 2005