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.

May 30, 2011

memorial day

there is a horrible sadness on me today... growing in my sleep the passed few days and during recent rounds of somnambulism too. i have been caught in that state of walking reverie and fantasy. that state where i am only half present, only half listening, standing with one foot only in the current physical reality and the other in my inner reality, far from the horrors and obligations of the later. the moments when physical reality calls me back to tend to it are so sorrowful and painful. the simplest chore becomes a lengthy exercise in tremendous self-control. an exercise in how to not scream, how to not crumble, how to hold one's self together and stand silently while rage and confusion clash like rams beneath one's skin. i can't tell you what it is. it's never just one thing. all this change, all this chaos gets to me sometimes. there are days when nothing is right and i have no clue what to do about it. there are days when i just want to run, days when i just want to cry.

the last time i did this - the big CLEAN - i was alone in the house for three days attempting to convince myself that as i lifted stains from the carpet i also rid myself of stain and corruption... that as i erased the traces of the family who lived there, maybe i could erase the traces of that family within me.

today, we wash the walls and put our odds and ends in the last boxes.

4 comments:

Hannah Stephenson said...

Moving. Is. Intense.

When I moved to LA last year, I read this book called "On Moving." I feel you would love it...I highly recommend it to you. It's a wonderful analysis of what homes mean to us (and to creative people): http://www.amazon.com/Moving-Writers-Meditation-Houses-Finding/dp/1582345813

Marta Sanchez said...

Experience it all. If you have the luxury of sleeping all day do it. If you can't sleep go zombie and play computer games - popcap.com all night/morning. If you want to feel not so alone and that pain is the world I suggest the collected works of Jean Rhys, a strong woman of her time. Love you Angela.

angela simione said...

hannah, thank you! i read all i could of it through the link you sent and i will definitely get myself a copy. absolutely wonderful! i wrote a post back to you. :)

angela simione said...

marta, in the 8 days before i went to tennessee to say goodbye to my mom i read 3 of jean rhys books. they were a tremendous safety net. tremendous. i am finding such a new, deep comfort in books now and have been staying up late reading more often than not. <3