Wednesday, November 30, 2011


Parts of this song/video remind me of the opening credits of Hawaii Five-O [the original of course].  It also inspired me to play a little word game.  How many words beginning with F can I churn out before the end of the song? 

Monday, November 28, 2011

Twenty Minutes

Lily pad hop from this to that to this.  Subtract words and feel it.  This is existence, this is happening. 

Henryck Gorecki -Symphony 3:1. Lento - Sostenuto Tranquillo Ma Cantabile

Henryk Gorecki - Symphony 3:1. Lento - Tranquillissimo

Tonight I described my first listening experience of Henryk Gorecki's Symphony of Sorrowful Songs as a journey: curiosity, joy, overwhelming grief, wrap oneself into painful inwardness, an indescribable bittersweetness, confusion, desire, quietude beyond death.  Within twenty minutes.  My friend said, "Within twenty minutes???"  Yes.  Any musician that can do that sans words...  This isn't modern pop lore.  This is.. this is... Stop.  Turn off everything.  Listen.  Hear.

How I can I appreciate anything else?  I'm consumed and ashamed at the thought of listening to anything less elegant than classical right now.  God forbid I hunger for The Stones, right??  Because The Stones, The Doors, Blondie and The Cure are starting to call my name.  Five days of classical... beautiful, poetic, dreamy... so pretty.  But c'mon, ready for something else, aren't you?

[Can it be true?  Have I actually reached my fill of pretty emotional music?!?  Claps hands!!  I'm hungering for something more.  Thank God!  I was beginning to annoy myself, I can only imagine your roll eyes, eh?]

Sunday, November 27, 2011

A Siren Call

Tonight a coworker interrupted my librarian state letting me know she was bored and was curious about what I've been up to during our mini holiday vacation.  Who am I to blame her?  Four days from an addiction is difficult, in this case it is her addiction, the law, the rat race, the Babylon Tower.  I answered honestly, "Librarian loopy - reading and listening to classical music."  Which is what I've been happily doing for the last two days.

She took one look at me, when we met at the bar and said, "Oh wow!  You did your makeup.  You never wear makeup at work."  Slight scrowl.  I do wear makeup, I just don't wear myself.  But her comment caused me to reconsider my appearance.  Today, my nails are painted dark cloudy grey, my eyes are eyelined in maroon and I even sported blood-stained lips.  Clothed in my favorite black/grey - I can see why she was taken by surprise.  At work, I am a wall flower, a non-entity.  She asked me why I don't do this during the week.  My answer is simple. Shrugs, "What's the point?"  I am not stupid, I understand the point.  Dress for success and all that bullshit.  But, this place is not my success.  She asked me why also I wasn't reaching out to [in her mind] the many attractive persons in the vicinity, especially after they approached me for either cigarettes or lighters for such.  Even the cute earnest young'un  Taylor was it??  How can I explain to her?  I can't.  I know what I want and it's not CandyLandimensional shadows.

Recently, I've been digging... digging into the brains of friends about futures.  What do they seek?  How do they envision themselves?  There is a fine line we walk as we age.  How do we remain true to our pasts and still further the goals that our [hopefully] more mature selves desire?

 Max Richter - Autumn Music I

There are people in my life who will rejoice when I say, I'm done.  I'm done with so many things.  Done worrying about how it will all work out.   Done trying to define myself in a way that would appease the tongues of so many.  Done denying the siren's call.  It never made a difference, they always saw through my paltry attempts at assimilation.  More and more, I feel my place.  I inch closer to self, that self that has hungered longingly for me to return.  Poor odd little nerd that never left, only tried to wear the others' clothes in the hopes of being accepted.  Even if I'm afraid to admit it, I am no longer afraid to live it.

Unmarred by distance, relationships, fear or alcohol.  None of these things matter anymore.  Whispered and shy, this is the subtle awkward pulsating strangeness of seeing a lover you once knew... Maybe even also like the tenuous tenacity of a seed to stem, pushing its way through harsh soil, through the incomparable depths of grief, the raucous fickle winds of rebellion, the deceptively still pain of stone and finally the relief of fire, I have traveled far to find her.  It is good to see her again.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Strange Thanks*

Being told to give thanks.... Groans.  Being told to do anything sets my mind and tongue on fire.   It seems to be on everyone's agenda in my world... say thanks, love the people around you, count your blessings etc etc etc.  I'm not ungrateful, but come on!  To say I have an authority complex might be putting it mildly; unless that authority is willing to play, banter and misbehave in a way that makes sense.  To Me.  Maybe this is why so many famous naughties intrigue and amuse me so much.

Because of and through them I find my kindreds and my humor to wave my flouting hand.  Fuck Off.

Spahn Ranch - Strange Days [The Doors Cover]

In my country, today is the Day of Thanks, and though I have many reasons to say thanks and to some very wonderful deserving people, I reserve the right to say them at my leisure, without anyone's directive.  Save one.  The You Have To Because You Are Told To.  So thank you, ubiquitous you, for introducing me to so many nefarious and delicious ways to say I am Me.  I will not bow to anything other than myself. 

*Waving my I Don't Give A Shit Flag - you feel me right?  It's all a joke, in case you didn't catch the tone.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

None of Our Secrets Are Physical

I had a completely different post planned for you tonight.    It was long and earnest, so poetic and epically dark.  You didn't want to read it anyway.  Instead this is the other song that keeps banging, banging, BANGING in my head.  It's viral.   Hungry... lap it up... lap it up!

Did you hug your clown today? Look!  They're pointing and laughing.  The seal is blushing, he's remembering when you crushed the crackers and shoved them in your pants.  It's not always an easy game.

Of Montreal - The Past Is A Grotesque Animal

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Lust, Curiosity and Mourning

I blame winter which is ironic in my little neck of the woods since we don't really experience winter.  I blame winter in theory then.  I'm obsessed.  Obsessed with ravenous feasting on black and white photography, reading Just Kids by Patti Smith, daydreaming of cold cloudy climes and almost tantrically resonating with ideas for my winter mixed cd.

Lately dreams of deserted beaches, carnivorous zombies, long intimate phrases forgotten upon waking, blankets, tangled hair and sweaty limbs.  I love November.  Dark, cozy, mournful, inspired November.

Monday, November 14, 2011

How Close Am I To Losing You?

The National - About Today

Please don't go.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Salt Decadence

In this age of disbelief, cynicism and insincerity I wonder if anyone truly believes in soul mates anymore.  I don't really know the answer to this question [though I have my suspicions] but I'm curious.  This last weekend I met, if not my soul mate, than at the very least a most kindred spirit.  This encounter either fundamentally changed me or reinforced a forgotten belief in connection's intoxicating power.

Most of my early life I was a bit of a selfish, calculating person with a sort of manipulative zeal.  Terrible to admit and even though good reasons may abound for that time in my life, it's still true.  It was losing a lover that shook my core and thus losing all my beliefs at the same time that changed everything.  You can only truly feel your own failings when you see them mirrored in the eyes of someone you love who is lost.  Unforgettable.  It is humility and an intense desire for growth that gives a new perspective - the one of painfully slow progress.

Blonde Redhead I will always thank you for being the catalyst that gave me the meeting with a most timely kindred amazingly lovely spirit.  For many practical reasons we will not see each other again as he runs in his direction and I run in mine, with perfect understanding.   But after so much solitude, it was beyond lovely to see myself in the eyes of someone so familiar.   Seen as beautiful, kind and best of all [after so many years in the desert] myself.  His memory will fade as he and I are absorbed into our respective lives but that feeling is eternal.  And best of all?  Always mine.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011


Austra - The Villain

I am not a villain.  Shaking my head, pushing my heart in rough directions.  

Hmm I promise a happy sparky summary of my amazing weekend is on the way.  Complete with odd ball hellos and what the fuck was thats and even cuter Oh Oh the soulmate that can never be.  Promise, promise.... it is all coming soon.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Memories In The Corners Of My Mind

So many memories from the weekend, so while I sift my thoughts into words I will rely on a true master of words, Lawrence Durrell.

Friday, November 4, 2011


On the road, on the road... THIS is where I'll be, surrounded by hipsters and audiophiles.  See you guys next week!


We Were Promised Jetpacks - Act on Impulse

I can't sleep.  If only I were a patient person.  This is no big deal brain.  Get a clue, a grip or a xanax.  There is something looming; big for me.  Something I want so desperately I almost can't breathe.  I'm scared, because if I want it, then it won't come true.  Superstitious flower to a fault, until I can hold it in my hands, taste it in my mouth... it isn't real.   There are those out there who are so calm in the face of impending happenings.  I am not one of them.  Tomorrow scares me, tomorrow I want my triumphant yelp.

Image via Dead Paper

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

What Can I Do?

Brazilian Girls - Rules Of The Game

My skin crawls, the loins rebel, the mind queries.  But there is no other way.
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