Saturday, December 29, 2012

BURST

It's all tumbling at an alarming rate.  I'm feeling and receiving so much, I don't think my fingers or brain can keep track!  Gone are the quiet moments of self-reflection, they happen so quickly I can't hold them long enough to share.  As fast as I pick it up, It runs away through my clutching hands.   But no, sadness these days is a fickle beast... most of the time I'm the most excited I've been in a long while.  Om Namah Shivaya... every day I experience a new grace, a new moment of learning and lesson and I'm so ridiculously happy and momentum fed there just isn't room for anything else.

Today my crush said, "It's okay, I'll take care of you" with a kind and meaningful glance.  My heart actually stopped.  I felt the ache in my chest and the blush on my cheek.  I've been invited to go camping with my crush for New Years.  One tent, one night.... can my heart contain such happiness??


Saturday, December 22, 2012

I Would Call It Ivory

So I've written about crushes and intrigues and love losses many many times - if anyone is interested just revisit most of my summer posts [or any of my posts really.  Love is my grand motivator].

That said.  I have a crush... it's something I hate bringing up in blog form or print unless it's something.  It's definitely something.  I didn't sleep much last night, minus the stupid neighbor's dog howling at her absence... because I'm doing the thing I do when I really really truly like someone.  It's embarrassing and the opposite of poetic.  Or maybe the epitome of poetic.  I day dream about them, as they are not.  As I want them to be, as we are together.  Last night's insomniac visions were perfect, as life isn't.

So this time... I'm keeping my crush to myself, as much as I can.  There is a reason one of my coworkers calls me Chismosa which basically means I can't keep my blipping mouth shut.  About anything.  Which isn't actually true.... I'm a vault and a volcano equally.  She was lucky enough to meet me in a gregarious phase.

That's it.  Almost a hidden place.... but I've not shared with anyone the incredible power of this crush.  Overwhelming, I could be wrong about this one.  But this feeling is like no other... it's something I want to hold in my hands and cherish, protecting it from everyone else.  


Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Engaging in Plication

So enamored with these paintings by Joao Figueiredo... divine supplication.










This is Happening

A few weeks back I drafted but never posted an entry entitled "Mary's Dying" hoping to somehow share without sharing how it feels that my Alzheimer's afflicted grandmother [who raised me for most of my life] is moving further both geographically and emotionally away from me.  I feel strongly about this.  I'm quite bereft about this stage in her memory, this loved one's final journey.  She is the last parent in my life who remembers my infancy.  She is My Person.  The person who has taught me so much, the Person I love beyond anyone else. 

It has been quite painful to remind her, "Love, it's me Genevieve" and to watch her tears flood her age-tissued cheeks when she realizes she no longer recognizes my face or relation.  Many times she thinks I'm her long dead daughter, Rose [my mother].



Radiohead - Bulletproof

This ties into feelings of loss that stretch into my past, a past riddled with loss because of many things but which ultimately link to my childhood and mother who, while alive, suffered from schizophrenia and died fourteen years ago.  A death I've only recently made peace with and posted about here but which has most definitely indirectly influenced much of my life's experiences [read choices] since that point... years spent running, chasing, hunting, blood-lusting for bleached bones in others.  A chance to recognize another's haunted spaces.  Moments spent creating and destroying.  In a way I feel like much of the last decade has been spent both hungering for and pushing against these energies.  The lust for home and the push against anything resembling roots.  Hence the advent of a rather silly personal mantra [that my dearests have heard many times]: I don't want to be buried in a box, I fucking refuse to live in one.

Repetitiously,  I've been listening to a mixed tape made about twelve years ago [you can read about why in my temper tantrum rant here] and this phrase from Nick Cave's love song lecture, The Secret Life of The Love Song begins side one and it just keeps reverberating in my mind at the strangest moments in my daily waking life these days.  Life is both cyclical and sarcastic in so many ways.

How beautiful the notion, that we create our own personal catastrophes and it is the creative forces within us that are instrumental in doing this.  Here our creative impulses lie in ambush by the side of our lives, ready to leap forth and kick holes in it.  Holes through which inspiration can rise.  We each of us need to create and sorrow itself is a creative act.  

It really is quite a fantastic lecture, I highly recommend a listen, several in fact. He is also fascinated with saudade [as am I: here, here and here] and his thoughts on this and sorrow speaks so closely to my own innerlings [his father died in Cave's late adolescence]. When I listen to him I breathe deeply with a rare peace. Dreaming wise, the other day I had the most visceral interlude that included Wayne Coyne of Flaming Lips.  We had the most powerfully hot sexual exchange.  There were lips, there was hair pulling, there were salty oral exchanges... we were hairless and slippery in all the right places.  I'm guessing his Twitter is finally getting to me... still... nice dream and the feeling of buoyancy upon waking was such a relief.
I don't think it's possible to separate sorrow, sex and love.

Friday, December 14, 2012

The Bush Calls



Someone remarked to me today that The Cardigans are one of their favorite female-centered bands and I sat in silence shocked.  Bound by confusion, disdain and an urge to be both supportive yet separate.  At least they're trying, right?  No.  There are just too many female led bands that I believe would fit this person's aesthetic... I'm not sure I can sit quietly and just let this pass. 

Kate Bush is absolutely fucking fundamental and though I could have started with SO MANY bands and albums [UM you guys Cat Power's Moon Pix for a killer cry/masturbation session if nothing else], tonight I'm plowing through Hounds of Love with a bottle of wine and hopefully the stamina to finish.  I've elected to skip the money makers; though beyond impressive and super personally powerful, we'll leave behind Running Up That Hill and Hounds Of Love because I'm going to trust you already know and love those tunes if you're perusing this odd space.  If you don't, do the world a favor keep that fact to yourself and RUN to listen then share with someone you love.

As anthemic as Big Sky is [and you'll see this track posted very soon], I actually prefer the pounce and pull of Cloudbusting.  The child-like climax is so anticlimatic and that speaks volumes.
 

You're like my yo-yo
That glowed in the dark.
What made it special
Made it dangerous,
So I bury it
And forget.

But every time it rains,
You're here in my head,
Like the sun coming out

And Dream of Sheep is the only song that could possibly follow such an anticlimatic song with its quiet thunderous bass/soprano murmurs.  Do you hear that delicious snowy pull??  Breathtaking.


I tune in to some friendly voices
Talking 'bout stupid things.
I can't be left to my imagination.

Let me be weak,
Let me sleep
And dream of sheep.

Waking the Witch is already slotted for my Winter Mix this year - such an incredible delicious aural tale of what feels like Little Innocent Red Riding Hood meets Dark Devil.  It ends ominously and sonically with no conclusion... so wicked.  Watching You Without Me brings an element of quiet organic insect-like warmth with its Indian seagull sway to what I've always felt was a relatively cold album and makes me want use it as a cushion in a mix I have in mind.  It speaks of loss, nostalgia and something... something I can't put into words.

Watching You Without Me



Can't let you know
What's been happening.
There's a ghost in our home,
Just watching you without me.
I'm not here.

Jig of Life is what I believe to be the album's roots and joy.  Listening to John Carder Bush's narration... holy shit!  I can't help but think of My Mary when I feel this tune and hear the lyrics.  And then follows Holy Earth... holy moly.. it's not for everyone but for some it's pure magic.  It's my magic.

Jig of Life


Hello, old lady.
I know your face well.
I know it well.

She says,
"Ooh-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na!
I'll be sitting in your mirror.
Now is the place where the crossroads meet.
Will you look into the future?

"Never, never say goodbye
To my part of your life.

"Let me live!"
She said.
"C'mon and let me live, girl!"

Can't you see where memories are kept bright?
Tripping on the water like a laughing girl.
Time in her eyes is spawning past life,
One with the ocean and the woman unfurled,
Holding all the love that waits for you here.
Catch us now for I am your future.
A kiss on the wind and we'll make the land.
Come over here to where When lingers,
Waiting in this empty world,
Waiting for Then, when the lifespray cools.
For Now does ride in on the curl of the wave,
And you will dance with me in the sunlit pools.
We are of the going water and the gone.
We are of water in the holy land of water
And all that's to come runs in
With the thrust on the strand."

I picked a hard album, I realize now.  Picking just a few songs to showcase is proving impossible, Kate Bush is working her spells and that's a good thing.  I've already decided that some people have to come to her in their own time and if they only touch upon her but once they're lucky.  If you let her wash over you in one sitting, you're likely to melt into the stream and become one with her enchantments.  At this point, one bottle in, I'm okay with that.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

This Hollow Feeling Grows & Grows



Belgian Subject's glorious 1982 track What Happened to You is one of several current mantras coloring my life these days with its steely wisps.  The honeymoon is over and now begins Battle of Stasis. State of deflation, hieroglyphic hypnosis.  A time approaches when you must actualize all the finger pricking work you've been practicing in silent solitude.  A time to embrace choices and eschew that other underbelly.  It's odd that I craved a sabbatical for so long and here we are a month out of Babylon Tower and I'm already itching for something more.  There's nothing quite like restless boredom to shake you from the fuzzed out dream state where you left an important part of your brain Somewhere, somewhere in a field in Hampshire. Alright. 

But what if you never come down???

Friday, December 7, 2012

I Hate Everything

I hate everything.  I hate today.  I hate those happy people with their stupid trees and cookies.  I hate my choice to leave Babylon Tower.  I hate the stupid day I just had.  I hate the fact that I can't leave today behind.  I hate that Che Guevara has taken up residence in my stupid uterus and is plotting Uterine Guerilla Warfare and I had to pretend while at work that I was a happy person while stupid bloody uterine massacre made me a cranky unhappy goblin.  I hate that I brought a coworker to my weird teeny home and my dog Mavis got so excited she peed on my bed.  TWICE.  I hate that my headphones don't work.  I hate that I'm listening to an amazing mix made 10 years ago that isn't digital [because it's a mixed tape] and I can't upload it to share.  I hate that I haven't done laundry in three months and have shit to wear tomorrow and have to get creative with what the fuck I have left.  I hate that I have crushes on some people I work with when I know better.

I REALLY HATE THAT I HAVE NO FUCKING HEADPHONES.


But holy mother of fuck I love Joy Division. This amazing cover of Love Will Tear Us Apart [incidentally one of my ultimate favorite songs] by Squarepusher is currently playing as I type and it's making the madness of today ease and throb. Throb, throb, thrummm.....

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Strange Attraction

I can't seem to stop watching this video of Portishead's Into the Fire synched by some wonderful fan with a portion Maya Deren's 1944 silent film At Land. 

My new job attracts a strange troupe of lovable oddballs and I can't wait to share with you glimpses into the quirks of these intriguing characters. Forty people spanning twenty years worth of varying ages and probably just as many backgrounds.  I find myself in a chemical dance of attraction, electron to proton.  Wavering on a precipice, caught between annihilating dissolution and the steadying beat of constancy. Already dreamy, if I'm not careful I'll lose all sense of time.



Friday, November 30, 2012

Bat Feelings


Yo La Tengo - Upside Down


Mary calls from far away
sure there is another
Walks the floor cause she can't settle down
Waiting for the phone to ring
Stuck inside the bedroom
Drinks too much to make the room spin round
When she sits down
No one knows the world is upside-down
Watches how it spins around 

Radiohead [On a Friday] - Upside Down


Yes you read correctly, this bumpy tune is from the early days of not quite Radiohead when they were still calling themselves On a Friday.  It's really strange to hear their roots knowing how they would later progress.   In both the sounds and the lyrics you get a glimpse of something raw and amusing but damn am I relieved they ultimately changed directions.  Still this little diddy would fit well on an easy breezy mix.  Get to it lovelies.

* You can read both the lyrics and a bit more about the tune here.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Words Vanish In The Haze


wreath of misty breathy words of... 
rising above her head,
hair shines under stars,
 in the cold crisp moon-
 light lit night
 dissipate into nothing I would call
 visible
 is her happy quiet
 I'm-so-glad-it's-you smile
 is what she seems to say with
 subtle, too much for words,
 is her manner as she reaches out
 -her fingers cold in the autumn air-
 gently brushes my face
 the heat, nearly burning me,
 of her gaze, not gazing, pulling
 me into the depths I so do love to sink
 with her into time where
 like her eyes in the starry starry night
 we will dance to
 the music of this moment is forever. 

- James Pete Taylor

Music of the moment is a funny phrase to me right now because not only have the speakers of my laptop gone fuzzy, last night my headphones died.  So for the next few days I'll listen to the music in my head and the soul/classic rock currently playing at my new job [think Joe Cocker and The Doobie Brothers].  Last week it was 80s, I mean good 80s... like toe tapping Thompson Twins Lay Your Hands On Me awesome which incidentally is one of my favorite sparky tunes of all time.  In fact, as I'm typing this post and grooving to it on my fuzzed out speakers, my pup Mavis just crawled into half of my lap and laid a paw on my boob. Like I said FAVORITE. 

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

She's Out There Somewhere

I miss this.  I miss you.  Hungering deeply for the quiet; life has become this active 'what's next' domino effect. The darkness calls me with a childlike tug but I'm sorry darling, I'm so busy I can't stop to calm it.  It's pushed deep down for now.



Beach Fossils' cover of Slowdive Alison is as close to nostalgia I dare to swim these days.

Listen close, and don't be stoned
I'll be here in the morning
Cause I'm just floating
Your cigarette still burns
Your messed-up world will thrill me
Alison, I'm lost
Alison, I said we're sinking
There's nothing here but that's okay
Outside your room, your only sister's spinning
But she lies, tells me she's just fine
I guess she's out there somewhere
And the sailors they strike poses
TV covered walls, and so slowly
With your talking and your pills
Your messed-up life still thrills me
Alison, I'm lost
Alison, I'll drink your wine
I wear your clothes, when we're both high
Alison, I said we're sinking
But you laugh and tells me it's just fine
I guess she's out there somewhere

Sunday, November 18, 2012

When You Lose Them

Something strange happens after your heart has been brutalized in ways you could never imagine.  An invisible veil separates the Once Bitten from the thrice.  So at the moment when you're now ready to put yourself out there; to explore the scary world of singles and try anew and for whatever reason it doesn't work out, the heartbreak just isn't as palpable anymore.  You can see into the hearts of others more clearly, understanding their motives and undercurrents so fully... the future almost writes itself.  No bitterness to be felt, just a nodding acceptance.



Not trying to be super dramatic, however; at one time my heart was broken following the end of a relationship with someone I argued with constantly and then again by someone I never had the chance to with audibly argue but felt the tense unsaid ripples in my bones.  This knowledge is hard won and once gained not easily lost, becoming a permanent fixture within.  My point is that these little goodbyes don't hurt so much anymore.  With time and wisdom, we can finally see them coming and subsequently let them go with grace and understanding.  We can say, "You're not the one and that's ok."  Our hearts are open enough to wish them well; to send them light and love as we continue on our journey. 

Since I'm still not ready to have that uncomfortable conversation about The Cranberries , in the interim please enjoy [or don't] this little ballad that has come to mean so much to me.

The Cranberries - No Need To Argue


[Though I guess I wouldn't be human if I didn't harbor some snarkiness at times about any of the above, I'm not another Mother Theresa after all.  But that's what my Twitter is for.] 

Art by Ruth Bradley

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Good Advice For Someone Like Me


Leonard, I'm doing my part and today that means a Surf Pop Montage. 



behind the pain
someone is rejoicing

behind the torture
there is love

who's going to buy
this bullshit

if you don't become the ocean
you'll be seasick
every day


-Leonard Cohen
  
*Track listing can be found here.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

A Phase of Terror

Scared and excited.  Our hearts say Yes just as our brains start to say No.



He means tomorrow but says "In a bit"
and doesn't show up at all
he sets his watch to a comet's orbit
remembers to forget to call

No courage for love - too scared to be happy

I do.... don't

"Your place or mine?" means "Heaven or hell?"
two addresses somewhat apart
his home's dark and spiky, her's clear as a bell
it's over before they can start

No courage for love - too scared to be happy

I do.... don't

And tomorrow passed them by

Monday, November 12, 2012

Calling Hell






Pretty damn excited about the wild foxes, Lindsey and Julie of Deap Vally. [I would kill for Julie's hair].  Girl drummers are so hot, just check out Poni from The Ettes.  Lindsey's pipes on track Baby I Call Hell give me aches and shivers...but just check out Miss Hotcakes Julie in the video for their new single End of World, due out November 19.  Pretty hearthumpingly wicked.  Can't wait for their debut to finally get released.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

To Hell With Your Narrow Mind

There are a lot of opinions out there about The Cranberries and at some point I want to add my own two cents but tonight is not the night.  It's Sunday, a night typically reserved for heavy depressive thoughts centered largely around anxiety and avoidance.  Not tonight though.  Only two days remain before I'm free of Babylon Tower and Free to Decide fits this impromptu wine dance party I'm having like a hand in glove.



It's not worth anything,
More than this at all
I'll live as I choose,
Or I will not live at all

So return to where you come from,
Return to where you dwell,
Because harassment's not my forte,
But you do it very well.

I'm free to decide, I'm free to decide,
And I'm not so suicidal after all

You must have nothing,
More with your time to do
There's a war in Russia,
And Sarajevo too

So to hell with what you're thinking,
And to hell with your narrow mind,
You're so distracted from the real thing,
You should leave your life behind, behind.

Phantom Seeking

The kids over at Neglected Nuggets post some pretty awesome neglected gems and the other day posted a link to Catherine Wheel's Black Metallic, which to me is not neglected band at all!  In fact, I posted that track last October paired with an absolutely breathtaking poem by Sally Ashton [I also posted about them here and here].

Catherine Wheel is very much alive in my aural rotation and one of the most brilliant though sadly underrated bands.  This love extends quite deeply and they have been present at just about every major crossroads in my life.  Bands are funny in that way... after an undetermined period of time, they cease being just a band and become a part of you.  Like the tree gnarled around concrete, organic and man-made joined in something resembling not quite symbiotic harmony... maybe it is survival, a love that must last a lifetime.  Without one, the other dies.  

I adore this song even though when watching the video, I try to ignore that its muddy naked pottery theme closely resembles the pornographic-light scene in that ghost movie with that dirty dancer and just concentrate on Rob's piercingly mesmerizing eyes and his adorable floral shirt.



An infraction easily ignored when hearing these lovely lyrics:

You're making me doubt myself  
This feeling I know so well  
Visions of naked greed  
Are visions I just don't need
 

Far deep, phantom seeking, I can see  
The nude that broke my heart  
The nude that broke my heart
 

Far from living, I can see  
The nude that broke my heart  
The nude that broke my heart
 

The texture of moistened skin  
All over this skin I've been  
Skin that's been angel stretched 
No muscle or excess flesh
 

Far deep, phantom seeking, I can see  
The nude that broke my heart  
The nude that broke my heart
 
Far from living, I can see  

The nude that broke my heart  
The nude that broke my heart
 

You're making me doubt myself  
This feeling I know so well  
Feeling of naked lust  
This feeling I love so much
 

Far deep, phantom seeking, oh you are  
The nude that broke my heart  
The nude that broke my heart
 
Phantom breathing, oh you are

The nude that broke my heart  
The nude that broke my heart
 

Upon the wall, the life is drawn  
The love is lost, the truth will fall  
The sinking ship, the sinking soul  
The final fear, the picture on the wall

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Blood Lust [NSFW]

Happy Birthday to Bram Stoker; here's hoping he's enjoying immortality with that beasty devil inside.  Blood portraits from photographer John Ross's series entitled Bloods would inspire blood lust in anyone.  Anatomically arresting, more than a little bit creepy and undoubtedly messy to execute, I'm drawn to the monochromatic chaos the images inspire.  Feast hungry vamps, feast.
















Love is just a blood sport

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Clan of Heroes

No political blather [as previously promised] on this oddly shaped blog but this is kind of a huge special day.  I am filled with pride.  The future has a brighter gleam... I think it's called hope.

 
 
One of my absolute favorite evenings of 2011 was spent absorbing the bright synth lights of Clan of Xymox who visited our humble Numbers Nightclub in their only US show of that year.  AMAZING.

Beautiful, spectacular, transcendent. I think this David Bowie cover might just be better than the original... is that blasphemy?

Monday, November 5, 2012

Mmmmix




Remember the other weekend when I made a 40 song beach mix for my little beachy getaway?  Well, here's an edited version with 21 tracks; a dreamy, warm mix for your hearing pleasure.  

Just pretend Monday is a distant memory.  I wish I were at home arting the day away.

Mac Demarco // Cat Power // T.Rex // Beach Fossils // Psychedelic Furs // Beirut // Future Islands // Pure Bathing Culture // Widowspeak // DrĂ¥pe // Jesse Ruins // R.E.M. // The Beach Boys // Fever Blanket // Craft Spells // Stornoway // Francisco the Man // Celebration // Featherface // Heavenly Beat // Otis Redding

Moan-day Mantra



I just keep telling myself only seven more days until my last day at this crap hole. I wonder if that's how Jesus felt during his 3 days of death before the ascension.  Obviously I'm feeling dramatic this morning.


Saturday, November 3, 2012

Pearly Dew Drops

Whirlwinds everywhere, mostly of my own making as I often caution others  to"Be kind to yourself.  Don't create unnecessary noise in your life".  Meanwhile, I seek chaotic frenetic encounters, hoping to draw the eddies from within to the surface.  Illuminating them in the hopes they evaporate in the bright glaring light of understanding.  Mostly what ends up happening are blinding hang over headaches and bouts of anxiety.  One day I will learn.


Queue Saturday 'morning'... ruminating in pajamas.  It's one of those Houston rainy days, not quite raining, not quite hot... not quite anything.  Balmy, grey.  Yesterday was Dia de los Muertos and also my mother's birthday.  Spontaneously invited to a Day of the Dead hang out hosted by two of my favorite Scorpios, one of whom celebrated his birthday on Thursday and the other who will celebrate hers tomorrow.  I told you I love Scorpios.

No sadness to be found among the yellow flowers strewn along the beautiful altar they created filled with candles and photos of loved ones past, including a forgotten photograph I gave to them awhile back of my mother and I taken only days after I was born.  She's holding me in our rocking chair and has this curious expression on her face, a cross between fear and peace.  The Scorps had laid out cups of water, alcohol, salt and a ciggie for our ghosts.  I contributed a stick of peppermint gum.  We drank wine and spoke of our lives as they are today in a genial braided way. 

Cocteau Twins - Pearly Dewdrops' Drops


Shadows on the periphery, Peace inaudibly whispers her name... closer and closer she approaches.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Setting Your Intentions



How do you set your metaphysical intentions, like one does in Yoga or other type of transcendental meditation? How do you accept and embrace the defining terms of your life?  Writer, Lover, Healer, Teacher.

Rising above oneself to abstract heights seems so beyond what I believe I'm able, when actually what I probably mean is that it's beyond what I want.  Desire is earth bound, selfish.  I even want Transcendence.  Returning always to him, a man I cannot possess.  I want to feel the intoxicating presence of being flesh bound in his gaze.  I want to be wanted while simultaneously reveling in the feeling that I'm unattainable.  I want to writhe in a passion unrequited.  Touching yourself in wet and dark places knowing He controls your mind.   With a mere flick of a finger, the bat of an eye, a salty tongue, breath in the ear...I want, I want, I want.

My desires are so of the Earth.  Always at war with my Mind.

The Cure - Halo


*How does that funny movie quote go?  "See?  You read a couple of Harlequin romance novels and they haunt you for life".... 

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Pop Never

I almost forgot to post a pumpkin cutebuster like last year's octo-kin.  This year I didn't carve a pumpkin, dress up or even hand out candy but instead cocooned in my web and avoided all the knocks at my door.  Including the one from my friend who even went so far as to bring me a gluten-free chocolate cupcake and ended up leaving it on my doorstep [because I was basically cowering inside pretending not to be home while my pup barked her demon beast head off] which I then quickly snatched and devoured in less than two minutes once the coast was clear. Jeez, I know it's a bit dramatic but I'm such a reclusive weirdo and really can't stand impromptu pop overs.

Embedded image permalink

Scattered scrambled zombie brains today but I'm super excited about all the awesome fall/winter inspired music I'm currently devouring and can't wait to share it with you. Stay tuned spooks. 

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

When Winter Comes...

You are what you consume.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Another No One

After a period of soul searching following several months of intense panic/anxiety attacks and a particularly insightful tarot card reading, I submitted my resignation today.  Just a couple of weeks and then no more legal mumbo jumbo, no more Babylon Tower.   No more Devil Bride, Devil Spawn, Pit Vipers or The Bitches of Eastwick.  No more irate clients calling me "Useless Bitch, Fucking Worthless" etc.  On to better and brighter things. 

Strange that such a melancholy sounding tune would complement this even stranger buoyantly weighted feeling of... well... blissful resignation.  But as you probably already know, Suede is and always will be home and a part of my center. 


She takes the blame, takes the pain but the world smiles...
So she packs her bags, smokes a fag and the world smiles
Because inside well she feels alright and turns to say:
"Yes it's the end, the final showdown
Yes it's the end of our small love
You'll have to find another no one to take the shit like I have
Well I guess this is the end, I guess this is the end"

*Nerdy footnote:  In times of indecision or confusion, the Zerner-Farber deck is insightful and kind, not cruel or pointed... kind of like having a fiercely independent eccentric great-aunt [who may even have been a bohemian flapper in the 1920s] giving you an objective overview of your life and encouraging you to grasp it with both hands.  

Friday, October 26, 2012

Life On My Own


I don't want to perform.  I will never fucking be you!!  Conformity doesn't interest me and I refuse to even try anymore.  No longer an infant sulphur match waiting for an itch of your subjective fancy to strike me into life, desperate and hungry for your attention-approval.  Stretched taut and tight, the stirrings within me speak powerfully and I turn my face in ecstasy to their demands, not shame.  I will never hold you as jagged comfort ever again...

She has come from the dark predatory depths, No Longer Unknown, speaking Truth with a clear vengeance all her own.  Like Kali... the blessed goddess that swallows your ignorant self-obsessed head, digesting it through her bacteria infested putrid intestines and finally births it through a vaginal canal so pure and clean you emerge Yourself.

Masquer's lyrics and sounds of their song Happiness make me feel so ridiculously calm. 







Image: Sasha Stone, Femmes-Study No. 10, 1933

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Translating The Gentle Bull


I tumble.  Won't you come tumble with me?
I may, or may not, also swim with crocodiles.
Here are some of my favorite scenes from the Crocodile Dundee series. 
Uno y dos.  
Also definitely the thong scene.

This song by New Orleans outfit Time Promises Power makes me very happy.
Tonight The Stars Revolt

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Carnival Strippers (NSFW)




















Photos by the incomparable Susan Meiselas


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