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.

Oct 16, 2011

here today

there is never going to be enough time.
i am trying to accept that fact.

it's a hard one.


i don't want anything from you.

i want everything from you.

i want to not be afraid of anything at all.

fake bravery is something i am very good at.

i wish i was as good at making art as i am at making fake bravery.

part of me is so desperately in love with jean genet's work that i want to go live in my car. some days i actually have to talk myself out of going and doing just that. i research artist residencies instead and study german grammar.

i bought a t-shirt that says DON'T GIVE UP on the front. i love it because that's exactly what i tell myself almost every day.

you don't give up either.

there is that part of me that still kicks and screams. there is that little girl who used to lay herself down on her mama's lap and her mama would scratch her back softly. there is a part of me who is still that little girl, still looking for that same deep level of safety and warmth. i don't think it lives anywhere else. that safety is gone forever. i don't give a shit if other people think i am sentimental. they obviously don't think about their own death very much. and they should because it's coming.



Elisabeth said...

Too right, Angela: death is coming, but in the meantime we've got to live, as best we can, just live and play and work and make art as best we can in whatever form it takes.

From where I sit, you're doing fine in this regard, however badly you might sometimes feel.

Heather Jerdee said...

I love that you wear that shirt. I'm gonna think about that shirt. I don't think your sentimental I think your honest and beautiful. Reading, listening and hugs from Minnesota

Jane Lancaster said...

I just did a weekend of Hospice training. We were taken through a visualisation of our own death. We watched a docu where we saw two people die, one a child. Be as sentimental as you want Angela.

much love

Jane xx

angela simione said...

elisabeth, thank you for this. sometimes i do feel so badly about how i live... that i am not doing well enough... or just enough at all.

you are right about all of this. yesterday i was driving around san francisco with one of my dearest friends and we spoke of mortality and the need to do whatever it is you love as much as possible, as often as possible becuase your dying day is going to come far too soon *regardless* of when it comes. death will find us all too soon so we must live as fully and as deliberately (maybe) as possible while we can. our dying day is tomorrow. life is horribly short.

angela simione said...

heather, thank you so much! (((BIG HUG))) right back to you. knowing you are out there reading and living along with me is such a comfort.

you NEED this shirt! it is fucking awesome! it has provoked total strangers to strike up conversations with me. it's amazing!

this is the shirt here:



angela simione said...

oh jane... that sounds strenuous. in the most painfully profound way possible. all my love. and a promise to go on being as sentimental as i feel like being.