Showing posts with label i'm cold. Show all posts
Showing posts with label i'm cold. Show all posts
Sunday, January 3, 2010
along with our fellow squidmates
FOLLOW ME, MY SQUIDS, AND YOU WILL BE PART OF SOMETHING BIGGER THAN YOU'VE EVER KNOWN
Sunday, December 20, 2009
seven feet, four inches, five hundred and forty pounds
a quick shoutout (from my realm of pittsburghian sneakitude and snowaccrued) to the new squids and inkful mammals in our midst...heather [can fly], margaret inglosolunbe/terr[or]ence, and foxfur-beee[ankh]uh, welcome to this strange dwelling which perhaps you might return to enough to call some kind of home.
tmo's post about being home resounded a lot with me--the sneakitude, the stars, the weight of rules, regulations, and roofs in the name of "love." (here's a thought, snatched crudely from politics is not a banana: we kill each other more than we kill our enemies, and that's a problem.)
my attempts to break through the layers of gardentalk, jobtalk, schooltalk with my mother have resulted in the repeated prod: "whew, you like these deep conversations. i just want to enjoy your company while you're here." i turn over and over in my mind what kind of "pleasantry" is possible when every domestic conflict is a painful-to-watch-[for-me] spectacle of miscommunication, money money money and a desire to feel attached and together, gone about in all the wrong ways (faith, malls, movies...)
concretely, then,
i've been chilling with the lelster a lot, finding our way around the quiet pittsburgh nightlife scene (funny, since the last time i was here pittsburgh was full o riot-ready cops) looking for the loud queermos whose voices don't quite echo as far as the suburbs. on thursday we went to lawrenceville, in and out of bars too loud for talk and we played a game of pool at remedy. yesterday, we organized a meeting of families, went to the warhol museum and saw this exhibit on shepard fairy (OBEY/andre the giant has a posse/etc.) i wonder if my sneakers will ever be in a museum. my parents/sister had bought tickets to the pittsburgh renaissance choir (a gay men's choir and gay women's choir) show, which turned out to be a spectacle of charity and money and balding white sweatervested gay couples. i watched the ASL interpreter and learned the signs for "king" and "lord" and "christmas day." then i darted off to explore lawrenceville some more, danced a little to gaga et al at brillobox and then had a beer with some gorgeous drag queens at blue moon.
so-though,
as easy as it is to be critical, i've been struggling to find optimistic reframings. i've been fighting regret, refusing to entertain the concept in myself and rooting it out in others....regret (and the resulting shame, guilt, self-pitying, self-hatred, loss of agency, complaining, sadness) seems to me to invite a sense of paralysis. life is not as easily accessible and editable as a google doc. in lieu of existential "back" buttons, i'll keep you updated on my campaign against regret.
6. somehow half my clothes are too clean and the other half smell like pee and come. hmmmm.
7. i miss the baohaus already.
8. i hope you are all alive and in touch with your vitality. to new squidlings: post without thinking, don't wait for the "right" idea to strike and instead strike with something bumpy and malformed. (anyway, that's how i like it.)
love,
elz
(soundtrack: something bollywood...)
tmo's post about being home resounded a lot with me--the sneakitude, the stars, the weight of rules, regulations, and roofs in the name of "love." (here's a thought, snatched crudely from politics is not a banana: we kill each other more than we kill our enemies, and that's a problem.)
my attempts to break through the layers of gardentalk, jobtalk, schooltalk with my mother have resulted in the repeated prod: "whew, you like these deep conversations. i just want to enjoy your company while you're here." i turn over and over in my mind what kind of "pleasantry" is possible when every domestic conflict is a painful-to-watch-[for-me] spectacle of miscommunication, money money money and a desire to feel attached and together, gone about in all the wrong ways (faith, malls, movies...)
concretely, then,
i've been chilling with the lelster a lot, finding our way around the quiet pittsburgh nightlife scene (funny, since the last time i was here pittsburgh was full o riot-ready cops) looking for the loud queermos whose voices don't quite echo as far as the suburbs. on thursday we went to lawrenceville, in and out of bars too loud for talk and we played a game of pool at remedy. yesterday, we organized a meeting of families, went to the warhol museum and saw this exhibit on shepard fairy (OBEY/andre the giant has a posse/etc.) i wonder if my sneakers will ever be in a museum. my parents/sister had bought tickets to the pittsburgh renaissance choir (a gay men's choir and gay women's choir) show, which turned out to be a spectacle of charity and money and balding white sweatervested gay couples. i watched the ASL interpreter and learned the signs for "king" and "lord" and "christmas day." then i darted off to explore lawrenceville some more, danced a little to gaga et al at brillobox and then had a beer with some gorgeous drag queens at blue moon.
so-though,
as easy as it is to be critical, i've been struggling to find optimistic reframings. i've been fighting regret, refusing to entertain the concept in myself and rooting it out in others....regret (and the resulting shame, guilt, self-pitying, self-hatred, loss of agency, complaining, sadness) seems to me to invite a sense of paralysis. life is not as easily accessible and editable as a google doc. in lieu of existential "back" buttons, i'll keep you updated on my campaign against regret.
6. somehow half my clothes are too clean and the other half smell like pee and come. hmmmm.
7. i miss the baohaus already.
8. i hope you are all alive and in touch with your vitality. to new squidlings: post without thinking, don't wait for the "right" idea to strike and instead strike with something bumpy and malformed. (anyway, that's how i like it.)
love,
elz
(soundtrack: something bollywood...)
Monday, November 16, 2009
Talking the talk.
It's winter today, I realize. For once, I have gloves. I usually never have gloves.
Today, I am bored in class. Not just in math (which honestly is a given), but in design as well. We go to the theater and we are told how it works. This always breaks my heart a little. "I know, I know," I want to say, "but can I climb on this?" And the TD tells us all about how hard it is to make art. "I know, I know," I want to say, "but can I climb on this?" By this time, I have to remember that the feeling of my heart breaking comes from my brain and that I am, in fact, dandy.
I go to art school for the first time today. I am a little nervous because of some ingrained message from the time I spent as an "upright citizen" that makes art schools seem so...precious to me, but there is something wonderful in the weird triangular staircase down to the basement, in the metallurgy workshops, the buzz of people, the high industrial ceilings with sweet hand-painted signs to tell you where you are, and clanging echo. It is very different that what I am used to. I spend a handful of hours playing, my head often close to the ground or falling out of a spin. My hip hurts because I push a little to hard, but I am no worse for the wear.
Today, I sit on the bus back from downtown and I look at faces. Michelle has recently told me a story. She says, "I saw a woman on a bus and she was like this (big wide-eyed, amazed face) and like 'new shoes really, I just bought these, but I think I'm going to return them' face never changing and just a mask!" She makes the face again. I make the face. I look like a blow up doll. I promise myself I will practice in the mirror. So on the bus home, I look at faces hoping to find Michelle's woman. But, everyone is tired and falling asleep so I spend my time staring at what look like death masks to me. It is a little frightening. To be less scared, I look at the notes the man next to me is writing in his limegreen notebook with red pen. His handwriting is terrible but I read something like this, "Are there certain humans born with spiritual capabilities? I have the impulse to say so. Yes, I suppose you could reach awareness and then through awareness enlightenment. But there is a long distance between awareness and enlightenment." He leaves a big space. He writes, "I imagine!" He leaves another big space. Then he writes a block of words I can't read from my angle. He gets off at 47th street. His writing has made me feel better, oddly.
Which is to say, today I have been vague and cloudy, but watching. Peering, listening, creeping even. I wonder how much watching I can do and how much I have done and what that watching all adds up to. Do you know?
Today, I am bored in class. Not just in math (which honestly is a given), but in design as well. We go to the theater and we are told how it works. This always breaks my heart a little. "I know, I know," I want to say, "but can I climb on this?" And the TD tells us all about how hard it is to make art. "I know, I know," I want to say, "but can I climb on this?" By this time, I have to remember that the feeling of my heart breaking comes from my brain and that I am, in fact, dandy.
I go to art school for the first time today. I am a little nervous because of some ingrained message from the time I spent as an "upright citizen" that makes art schools seem so...precious to me, but there is something wonderful in the weird triangular staircase down to the basement, in the metallurgy workshops, the buzz of people, the high industrial ceilings with sweet hand-painted signs to tell you where you are, and clanging echo. It is very different that what I am used to. I spend a handful of hours playing, my head often close to the ground or falling out of a spin. My hip hurts because I push a little to hard, but I am no worse for the wear.
Today, I sit on the bus back from downtown and I look at faces. Michelle has recently told me a story. She says, "I saw a woman on a bus and she was like this (big wide-eyed, amazed face) and like 'new shoes really, I just bought these, but I think I'm going to return them' face never changing and just a mask!" She makes the face again. I make the face. I look like a blow up doll. I promise myself I will practice in the mirror. So on the bus home, I look at faces hoping to find Michelle's woman. But, everyone is tired and falling asleep so I spend my time staring at what look like death masks to me. It is a little frightening. To be less scared, I look at the notes the man next to me is writing in his limegreen notebook with red pen. His handwriting is terrible but I read something like this, "Are there certain humans born with spiritual capabilities? I have the impulse to say so. Yes, I suppose you could reach awareness and then through awareness enlightenment. But there is a long distance between awareness and enlightenment." He leaves a big space. He writes, "I imagine!" He leaves another big space. Then he writes a block of words I can't read from my angle. He gets off at 47th street. His writing has made me feel better, oddly.
Which is to say, today I have been vague and cloudy, but watching. Peering, listening, creeping even. I wonder how much watching I can do and how much I have done and what that watching all adds up to. Do you know?
Sunday, September 6, 2009
can't sleep with the man who dims my shine
so last saturday justin and i left port angeles to begin a 6-day adventure into and around olympic national park
and while i was there, and after i've come back, i've wondered how to write about it here
because as certainly as i am a cephalopod,
this was an adventure.
sun 30 aug at the beach in lapush
-mushrooms: alcohol inky caps, mycena amicta, wine-colored agaricus
-bald eagle atop a rocky outcropping with a seagull diving at it
-a living, washed up shark, about 3 feet in length
-wily chipmunks
-surfers
-grizzled gulls
-my breath
-pelican party
-the town of forks, taken over by twilight-readers/watchers
-trees and rocks that look like caspar david friedrich paintings, only west coast so no oaks-- spruces instead
mon 31 aug in the hoh river valley (948 ft elev)
-lots of mushrooms! including chicken of the woods and baby oysters, pleated pluteus, tawny almond waxy cap, yellow pholiotus
-a skeletal mountainside, graves of trees, white from a fire 30 years ago
-my broken camera
-the hoh river, bluey grey with rock and trees, classic pacific northwest image
-big big tree with a whole ecosystem at its base so tall and thick
-moss on phone booth roof at visitor center
tues 1 sept at hoh lake, (4500 ft elev)
-mushrooms! orange, purple, red, brown, white, scaly vase chanterelle
-the clouds from above (and in them, and below them)
-BIG BIG BIG cedars, spruce, fir
-a composting toilet with spectacular mountain views
-right now, these ridiculous trees covered in moss.dripping from everywhere, a light, sickly green, like something dr seuss or meghan would draw
-the meadows which smelled like delicious baking
-a doe and her 2 fawns
-a black bear bumbling on the hillside opposite our camp
-these mountains mountains snow and glaciers (mount olympus and all its peaks)
-tadpole parade
-submerged logs in hoh lake, slumber slumber
-trout babes and jumping fish
2 sept at appleton pass (5000 feet elev)
-that black bear, but close up
-an owl at bogachiel peak
-ravens at heart lake
-a goat outside our tent, nibbling and sniffing and terrifying
-blueberries blueberries blueberries staining my fingers and lips
-two small scummy nasty ponds
and there's no more written in my journal for the trip anymore, though the next day we went to the hot springs on our way out of the park so i got all this sludgey slime on me and smelled like eggs and nakedly asked strangers for directions. and saw a beautiful forest along boulder creek... the descent from appleton pass, though it was rainy, may have been my favourite part of the trip (???)
my mental soundtrack (songs that got stuck in my head on those long silent days of walking):
'leaving today!' christina aguilera
'i like it rough' lady gaga
'i am a wizard' harry and the potters
'genius next door' regina spektor
'man, i feel like a woman' (who sings this??)
'be our guest' beauty and the beast
'felix felicis' harry and the potters
'can you feel the love tonight' lion king (the parts where timon and pumbaa are talking)
'welcome' christina
'paparazzi' gaga
'elbow room' schoolhouse rock
and i can't remember anymore! i tried hard to remember my mind's playlist.
in other news i am trying to remember hindi and it is really sad. and to do reading for my civ class which starts in 3 weeks BLECH
and while i was there, and after i've come back, i've wondered how to write about it here
because as certainly as i am a cephalopod,
this was an adventure.
here is a map and some lists. they suffice to tell the story.
purple star is where i live, red is bus, yellow is hitchhiked, blue is hiked
sun 30 aug at the beach in lapush
-mushrooms: alcohol inky caps, mycena amicta, wine-colored agaricus
-bald eagle atop a rocky outcropping with a seagull diving at it
-a living, washed up shark, about 3 feet in length
-wily chipmunks
-surfers
-grizzled gulls
-my breath
-pelican party
-the town of forks, taken over by twilight-readers/watchers
-trees and rocks that look like caspar david friedrich paintings, only west coast so no oaks-- spruces instead
mon 31 aug in the hoh river valley (948 ft elev)
-lots of mushrooms! including chicken of the woods and baby oysters, pleated pluteus, tawny almond waxy cap, yellow pholiotus
-a skeletal mountainside, graves of trees, white from a fire 30 years ago
-my broken camera
-the hoh river, bluey grey with rock and trees, classic pacific northwest image
-big big tree with a whole ecosystem at its base so tall and thick
-moss on phone booth roof at visitor center
tues 1 sept at hoh lake, (4500 ft elev)
-mushrooms! orange, purple, red, brown, white, scaly vase chanterelle
-the clouds from above (and in them, and below them)
-BIG BIG BIG cedars, spruce, fir
-a composting toilet with spectacular mountain views
-right now, these ridiculous trees covered in moss.dripping from everywhere, a light, sickly green, like something dr seuss or meghan would draw
-the meadows which smelled like delicious baking
-a doe and her 2 fawns
-a black bear bumbling on the hillside opposite our camp
-these mountains mountains snow and glaciers (mount olympus and all its peaks)
-tadpole parade
-submerged logs in hoh lake, slumber slumber
-trout babes and jumping fish
2 sept at appleton pass (5000 feet elev)
-that black bear, but close up
-an owl at bogachiel peak
-ravens at heart lake
-a goat outside our tent, nibbling and sniffing and terrifying
-blueberries blueberries blueberries staining my fingers and lips
-two small scummy nasty ponds
and there's no more written in my journal for the trip anymore, though the next day we went to the hot springs on our way out of the park so i got all this sludgey slime on me and smelled like eggs and nakedly asked strangers for directions. and saw a beautiful forest along boulder creek... the descent from appleton pass, though it was rainy, may have been my favourite part of the trip (???)
my mental soundtrack (songs that got stuck in my head on those long silent days of walking):
'leaving today!' christina aguilera
'i like it rough' lady gaga
'i am a wizard' harry and the potters
'genius next door' regina spektor
'man, i feel like a woman' (who sings this??)
'be our guest' beauty and the beast
'felix felicis' harry and the potters
'can you feel the love tonight' lion king (the parts where timon and pumbaa are talking)
'welcome' christina
'paparazzi' gaga
'elbow room' schoolhouse rock
and i can't remember anymore! i tried hard to remember my mind's playlist.
in other news i am trying to remember hindi and it is really sad. and to do reading for my civ class which starts in 3 weeks BLECH
also blech that this farm is boring and i can't imagine being here until the 19th... i have arranged a rideshare out of seattle on the 20th. there's really nothing to do here; i think all i do is weed and harvest. by the time i leave i will have accomplished nothing! weeds grow back and so do veggies. maybe i'll run away somewhere earlier or something. suggestions?
gee this blog has gotten active and i like it. hello good work i like your brains
.zee
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saber T. wrote this last night.
all:
can we all channel the same thoughts at the same time IN THE SAME WAY? are we thinking the same actual thoughts or just the same words.
tamara is sleeping
eliot's was a physical contribution. let me translate in words: I LOVE YOU and i am so just at peace with everything and have an opinion in the form of vics vapo rub on your lip
oh no! i'm gonna post later! leaving to get the book, back ltr. love ethan toast doobs mcgee
jake is gonna think of somethin really really good. he's here that's enough
sara goes by SABER
tamawa's symbol like prince is blowing rivulets of air, it's beautiful, also the texture of brad's hair is beautiful!
todd's brain is made of cookie dough ice cream
todd turned a whopping good age on the second of this month!
guinea piggggs
can we all channel the same thoughts at the same time IN THE SAME WAY? are we thinking the same actual thoughts or just the same words.
tamara is sleeping
eliot's was a physical contribution. let me translate in words: I LOVE YOU and i am so just at peace with everything and have an opinion in the form of vics vapo rub on your lip
oh no! i'm gonna post later! leaving to get the book, back ltr. love ethan toast doobs mcgee
jake is gonna think of somethin really really good. he's here that's enough
sara goes by SABER
tamawa's symbol like prince is blowing rivulets of air, it's beautiful, also the texture of brad's hair is beautiful!
todd's brain is made of cookie dough ice cream
todd turned a whopping good age on the second of this month!
guinea piggggs
Monday, August 10, 2009
time
hello fellow adventurersss
it's been ten days since i first arrived in seattle in a green turd and began to paint that town red. it's been a week days since justin's and bianca's first experience with nettles. it's been 2 days since mine (the trick is saliva-- it neutralizes it). it's been three nights sleeping on the couch with gixxer (and on yesterday was 8 years since he was born), and three days of crushing on david and russell, possibly because it's been about thirteen days since i've been touched. eight days since my first acid trip. one day since i climbed up into a cloud with trees coated in moss, screaming and singing and running and laughing. and losing justin. he came back, though i wasn't sure he would. it's also been three days since i bought twilight, and justin bianca and i have been reading it to each other but since it's such a piece of junk we've skipped most parts. the town i live outside of, port angeles, is mentioned several times in the book because it takes place in forks, about an hour west of here... so this whole area is getting lots of tourists (16,000 in forks in july) and there's twilight stuff everywhere!
it doesn't rain here in the summer, except saturday sunday and today. it's cold! ali sent me an email about sweat-- is it hot where you are? i'm wearing a sweater i bought at goodwill in town and my fingers and toes are so cold.
it's been ten days since i first arrived in seattle in a green turd and began to paint that town red. it's been a week days since justin's and bianca's first experience with nettles. it's been 2 days since mine (the trick is saliva-- it neutralizes it). it's been three nights sleeping on the couch with gixxer (and on yesterday was 8 years since he was born), and three days of crushing on david and russell, possibly because it's been about thirteen days since i've been touched. eight days since my first acid trip. one day since i climbed up into a cloud with trees coated in moss, screaming and singing and running and laughing. and losing justin. he came back, though i wasn't sure he would. it's also been three days since i bought twilight, and justin bianca and i have been reading it to each other but since it's such a piece of junk we've skipped most parts. the town i live outside of, port angeles, is mentioned several times in the book because it takes place in forks, about an hour west of here... so this whole area is getting lots of tourists (16,000 in forks in july) and there's twilight stuff everywhere!
it doesn't rain here in the summer, except saturday sunday and today. it's cold! ali sent me an email about sweat-- is it hot where you are? i'm wearing a sweater i bought at goodwill in town and my fingers and toes are so cold.
just watched shortbus while cleaning garlic, which caro and ali have mentioned to me a few times. i'm basically hoping que(e)ry will be like that. glitter sex fame glamour money drugs power dirt, and so on.
bye guys,
i'm lovin' reading this, keep it up
.zee
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