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.

Jan 18, 2010

safe

there is a lady bug on the wall. a big fat one. and i won't smash him or put him outside. it makes me happy he is here. my little pet for today.

tennessee is beautiful. most of the leaves are off the trees but it's still so green somehow. and quiet. silent, really, out here in the country. the houses that spring up are red brick with white trim. is that called 'colonial"?

and my grandma and grandpa came today with a big baked chicken and stuffing and pies and brownies and all sorts of stories that everyone's already heard a dozen times but me and so i laughed and laughed and laughed. stories about the 6 deer that come through their yard and stories about ravens playing with shiny things on the porch. wholesome and good stories like that.

i feel instantly at home even though i've never been here before. i've already learned the kitchen and what's in all the cupboards. i've got my own room to sleep in that (YAY!) has a computer in it! i've got my books from home stacked up against the wall. last night when i got to the house, my mom and i talked about fairy tales and about Alice in Wonderland and she gave me a large, old copy of the story from the 40s, fully-illustrated, and printed on soft paper from italy. a sewn binding and all. she found it in a thrift store out here for a dollar. treasure.

right now the house is quiet. nap time. and so i will write and maybe work up the nerve to go jog in these foreign woods, maybe paint a small watercolor, maybe just sit on the back porch and admire the things that grow here and the hundred birds that swirl here.

8 comments:

Maggie May said...

i'm jealous of your book gift. that sounds amazing. we spent a week in Nashville, TN with my aunt and cousins a few years back and fell in looove. although i'm from the South i had never been to TN. it's just gorgeous and moody and atmospheric and perfect, i think, for artists of any kind.

angela simione said...

oh, the book is gorgeous! and alice has a dark dusty pink dress in the illustrations.

i'm looking forward to doing some exploring and just sitting in one spot and looking, really looking, and breathing deep. there IS a mood here! maybe the history of the place is in the air somehow.

i had a 2 hour lay-over in san diego yesterday. i waved to you. ;)

Doll said...

So strange... seconds before I read your new blog I uttered the words "there's a ladybug on the wall." I noticed the tiny being as I was making my nest for the day.... And what should I read when I click on your blog? The same line...
I'm DollPockets, btw. :-) You're work is lovely.

Elisabeth said...

Oh the joys of going home, at least back to your family, where you feel welcome and where you have a place, even tinged with the excitement of new experiences like jogging in unknown places.

It will be interesting to see what wells up from your unconscious in this place, what wonderful paintings you will create.

angela simione said...

hello dollpockets! how wonderful! both of us with lady bugs on the wall! ha! welcome!
and thank you so much! :)

angela simione said...

elisabeth- yes! today i drew strings of rain drops. very abstract in terms of what i usually do.

Marta Sanchez said...

Wow. How beautiful. Nice thoughts to dream on...

angela simione said...

i feel like i'm in a dream, marta. strange and shifting, looking for patterns.