these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.


my artist website is here.

Aug 27, 2009

yikes!

an evening jog and a swarm of bees kicked loose from somewhere deep in the vineyard and i ran fast and feared that i'd made the wrong decision, that they could smell my panic and would come get me and i'd die out there on a dirt road, covered in red lumps, my little girl dog without a mama. silly, i'm sure, but bees are nothing to trifle with. they have strength in numbers and all i could see was that horrible scene form 'My Girl" when Macaulay Culkin dies. yeewuu. (shiver) gives me the heebeejeebees!

hee-BEE-jee-BEES! hahahahaha! :)



(pun not intended)

4 comments:

Radish King said...

Did you get stung? Never forget that bees respond to vocal commands.
xox

angela simione said...

i didn't get stung, thank god. i've only ever been stung once and it was in the face while driving down a little two lane road with no curb or shoulder through orange groves. i had to drive a mile with the stinger in my face until i was able to pull over and get the stinger out. ha! no fun!

should i speak in a soothing, nice voice or a loud, angry voice to them?

Radish King said...

Speak politely. Bees demand respect.

r

angela simione said...

hahaha! yes they do!

good to know. i will try talking to them. they like hanging out by the paintings when i work outside. they must like the smell of oil paint too.