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.

Sep 23, 2012

east coast west coast pistoletteo: longing: NY rant #2



me and michelangelo pistoletto at MOMA in NY




and SFMOMA just yesterday.


what of my bleeding heart?  what of all these dreams?  except that i plan to make no excuses for myself.  except i plan to make no excuses for my desires and the longing i feel in my fingers to trace the line of foreign hipbones and poems found in used bookstores.  my romantic heart will not be made to feel embarrassed.  my romantic heart will not accept limits.  if they want to laugh, let them laugh.  i will take pictures and write poems and paint pictures for you for you for you.  

tonight, i am listening to the favorite band of a long ago ex-boyfriend.  the one who dashed me to pieces so many years ago.  i am able to do this, finally, because of new york and the experiences i had there.  the smashing pumpkins were playing in the background as i scratched a man's back, as i smelled his hair and felt his hands. 

 and now i can't stop listening to this music.

this is what it is to feel connected.  even if the connection is fueled by loneliness.  this horrible ache.  i know i am heard.  at such unexpected and beautiful intervals, i am given the sweetest encouragements.  finally, i can tolerate being at home.  california, i love you and i always will but i need the staten island ferry and the dead pigeons on the sidewalks of the lower east side.  i will take my teddy bear with me, the only remaining relic of my childhood, and cross this wide country.  i will empty my storage unit of its contents.  my mother would tell me, "little girl, you're too sweet!  it's only stuff!  it's just hunks of wood!  give it to the goodwill and get going!"  this is her hope chest we're talking about.  this is the only reason i have a storage unit in the first place.  to keep hold of my mother's possessions while i welcomed quasi-homelessness 7 months ago.  and in the stillness of such loneliness, within the chaotic swell of such uncertainty i redacted book-pages and made sweaters and backdrops to pose in front of.  scenes that make me out to be a heartbroken whore.  and maybe i am a heartbroken whore. maybe we all are.  all i know is that, suddenly, i felt understood and connected to my status as Human on a dance floor and in the shadow of the statue of liberty and in the arms of a stranger and in the humidity of manhattan. 

somehow, i will return in november.  plans are in motion.  it is a certainty.  until then, i push the paint and pull the stitch.  until then, i listen to the smashing pumpkins and dream away of all manner of inappropriate enterprise.  until then, i write in my diary and sing a song of rebellion all night long.








2 comments:

yolanda said...

hi Angela... i love how you express fury and writing and painting and ... oh pistoletto...

everybody ´s suffered from a BROKEN heart... i know that feeling so well... it fueled my creativity....
i´m reading a book now about sylvia plath "the poetry of negativity"... he analyzes words, using phylosophical methods... Lacan, Kristeva... what i love about this book is that it´s not full of rage, not feminist -it´s an essay- kind of seeing the words from outside. you know... years pass by and we need to have a look at ourselves from a certain distance; everything is material for Art. ---- go wild! be free! as i´m trying to be...

if something of the above makes sense to you... i´ll be happy. i know what i´m trying to say,,, but how to find the words? oh.

...and i´m looking for a book about bob dylan´s lyrics treating them as poems, literature... comparing them to other poets... it would be interesting... at least to me...

keep blogging. your words made possible this response.... and oh! good morning!!

love!
yolanda

angela simione said...

good morning, yolanda! thank you so much! i will definitely keep blogging. i'm so happy you get something out of it. it's always wonderful to learn that i'm not just sending words out in to the dark here.

sylvia plath is one of my favorite writers. she is definitely one of my biggest influences. i'm glad you like her and are reading other people's thoughts about her work.

i am trying to be wild and free! thank you for understanding that it is a NEED! independence and freedom are such necessities. i kept myself closed off from certain experiences for so long. i'm so much happier of a person now that i am attempting to build a more open, courageous life.

all my love!
angela