downtown

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THE WAY YOU NEED TO BE LOVED
19th and Broadway, Oakland CA
angela simione, 2014

this kind of work is so much fun to do.  :)

day one

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i celebrated the first day of 2014 by getting another yarnbomb out in the world. happy new year, everybody.  :)  what way do you need to be loved?


18th street between mission and valencia in san francisco.

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severed and encouraged

i don't know what i want to say.  something has shifted in me since going to europe.  i can't describe it.  i was so immediately calm once boarding the plane from london to berlin.  so indefinably calm, at ease in the most remarkable way.  natural.  i was never once afraid.  but now here i am, back in the U.S. and not knowing what exactly to do with myself...

i sign up for french classes and decide i need to know more about cheese and wine.  i'm sitting here with my second bottle of Gewurztraminer and a block of Parmesan Romano.  my roommates are helping.  we all feel spoiled.  we all feel special.  life is good.

but my heart aches.  it pulls toward those old bridges.  my broken german longs for a bit of completion.  that strange sadness finds me every couple days. travel sadness.  the need to be back in germany and walking across the Oberbaum Brucke, the need to race through berlin on the back of a blond's motorcycle, the need to sit quietly at a cafe and sip a latte while i scribble in my diary.  it all sounds so lofty and spoiled to american ears but maybe what i'm talking about is simply Living.  maybe what i'm describing are the simple pleasures that come from trusting a stranger simply because you receive an unnameable buzz while in their presence and decide to follow the white hot line of it.  maybe what i'm describing is the utter joy that floods one's being once deciding that Flatliners was right and today really is a good day to die...  so take a deep breath and embrace what you've got.  i'm trying to tell myself exactly that right now.  i'm attempting to play tourist every day and see california as a foreigner might.  it's a tall order but i'm having a great time trying to satisfy it.  still, loneliness finds me.  i just need to be in the wind.  i'm in that Searching phase of life.  i need no schedule and no expectations, just a map and a hunk of bread stuffed in my backpack.


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while i was away, from time to time i worried about my yarnbombs. i worried whether they'd been taken down yet, snipped away by passersby who wanted a bay-area souvenir or an angsty teenager who felt akin to the sentiments.  i was relieved and ecstatic to find them all in place upon my return.  each and every banner from Aileen to 59th was still there.  AND!!! it seemed as if someone had even been tending to them- straightening them out as they slid down the stop sign poles and making sure the text was straight and discernible.  a week or so later, i noticed two had disappeared.  then, as i walked to the train station this weekend on my way to work i found two banners sliced off and cast to the ground:

 

the jaggedness of the cuts and the fact that these pieces were then thrown aside let me know that the person who cut them down didn't give a shit about this work and, in fact, was probably pissed off.  this is a wonder to me.  i've never actually ever seen a yarnbomb be so violently removed from public view.  but then again, i've not seen any pieces in the bay area that employ text.  maybe the message angered this person???  maybe they found it annoying and was tired of walking passed it on their way to the train???  whatever the reason, this person was obviously angry as evinced by the fact that not all the banners on telegraph have been cut down, only those on a particular block.  basically, i'm saying they weren't cut down by the authorities.  the authorities would have removed them ALL and wouldn't have cast them into the street.

i'm not at all hurt or offended.  if anything, i'm encouraged.  this type of response lets me know i'm on the right track and that i need to keep going.  i felt a sense of lost whenever a banner would disappear before i went on my trip.  so much so that i replaced the one at 58th and telegraph (whoever you are :)  ).  but something changed in me...  i feel more generous these days, more open to evolution and the pain of transformation.  i feel spurred on by your violence.  your anger gets me hot.  it leads to a deep sense of resolve.  i don't give a fuck.  laugh at me or ignore me.  whatever.  slice my work to pieces, just know i'm sitting at my kitchen table tonight eating Parmesan cheese and drinking a lovely bottle of Gewurztraminer:  my feelings are not hurt.  in fact, i like having these photographs of my fallen banners.  i like having them laying on the corner of my bed.  i plan to frame them.  they have a history now, a story i could never have provided that adds to their beauty and intelligence.  it's beyond description.  

i am thankful for the raggedness that my hands are incapable of dealing.  

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THE WAY YOU NEED TO BE LOVED

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Telegraph Ave @ 49th
Oakland, CA



sometimes a poem only needs one line.

happy

went out yarnbombing last night after a beautiful and fun dinner with my beautiful and fun friend Trish.  i love that we got to see each other before i take off on this adventure.  she is one of the most well-traveled, adventurous, insightful, and open people i have ever met.  i feel so blessed every time we hang out because i walk away so much richer with insight and perspective than i was before.  i picked her brain for travel advice and how tipping works in other countries.  i'm so looking forward to the food.  especially in france.  i will definitely eat snails and frog legs.  but more than anything, i'm looking forward to simply being in a foreign land.  simply sitting at a cafe and people-watching will be such a deep pleasure for me and so affective.  Trish said to be safe but not worry too much and just have fun.  i will do my very best to do just that.  she bought me two greyhounds at a bar we'd never been to before after dinner and then dropped me off at the corner of Claremont and Telegraph so i could install a few pieces on my walk home.  i've been trying to get every parking sign on the even numbered side of the street from the traffic light at Aileen to the light at 59th.  last night i reached my goal.  :)  it was important to me to get it done before leaving.  i walked slowly down Telegraph Ave and straightened the other bombs and even replaced the one someone snipped down as a souvenir.   i was sad to see one go missing but also complimented that someone out there likes the work so much they couldn't resist taking it.

 

this afternoon, i walked back to take photos of the work.  i decided to put on my travel bag, fully loaded, and see how heavy the thing really is.  after about a half hour, it felt pretty heavy.  Becca and i are going to get fucking buff, is what.  ha!  but it was such a privately romantic moment...  just walking down my city's streets with my bag on my back, dreaming of new york and paris, and berlin, and  photographing my work up in midst of all this oakland buzz and hustle.   it was a beautiful way to spend the afternoon.

the last few days have been exceptionally beautiful, actually.  i had dinner with Becca's mom the evening before and being around her is so emotionally and spiritually nourishing.  i think of her as Spiritual Food.  i truly do.  i leave feeling replenished and excited and driven to "be MORE myself" (always hearing your voice in my head these days, suzanne, encouraging me along).  we had goat cheese stuffed dates that were wrapped in bacon and they were unbelievable.  i can't even describe how delicious they were.  over dinner we talked and talked and talked about europe and how special it is that Becca and i are undertaking this together.  "i met your daughter almost 8 years ago in a color theory class and look at all the beautiful colors we've managed to bring to each other ever since." i said.  sentimental as fuck, yes!  but sentimentality has its place too and i'll never feel embarrassed of appreciating and loving another person.  not ever.  i am honored to have the opportunity to do so and to feel this way.  i'm lucky to have such amazing women in my life and i adore them something fierce.

and then last night after i got home from dropping all my bombs (6 in total last night), seth and i stayed up drinking (well, i drank anyway) and watching the final dance scene in Dirty Dancing over and over again.  i tried to learn the steps in the kitchen and quickly realized i need to hunt down a tutorial.   :)

watch this and try not to smile.  it's a piece of my childhood and makes me laugh joyfully like a child everytime i see this!

 

 :D

a run of beautiful days leading up to my departure.  i am so thankful for the beauty that swirls around and through my life.  hard to imagine how desperate and sad i once felt.  hard to believe that i was once convinced i was not capable of living this way.  i am astounded and endlessly grateful for the freedom i now enjoy.  endlessly endlessly endlessly.

beautiful evening

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sometimes a girl just doesn't feel like herself until she gets some art out in the streets.  :)

CRY HARDER

yarnbomb 

corner of Claremont and Forest in Oakland CA

angela simione, 2013

BOOM!

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back in action!

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fuck sensible shoes!  i've been bound to my bed far too long and in WAY too much pain to give a shit about that kind of tripe.  i stomped around oakland in these beauts for a cool 2 hours today.  dropped a new yarn bomb and mended another.  the passed few days have been absolutely fantastic.  each day will get better and better from here on out.

i can't tell you how good it feels to move again.  it'll be some weeks still before i can get back to running but my mood is skyrocketing regardless.  i am anxious to get back to work, back into the swing of things, back in to life.  today marks 3 weeks since this injury stalled my life.  all i want to do is be outside and be around people.  i've missed the buzz of life.  i've missed my long hustle to the train station.  i've missed taking pictures of the sky and being able to stand at my huge drawing pinned to my bedroom wall and just work.  i've missed the company of others and the jokes that get told in bars.  i miss all the late night alcohol-fueled confessions.  i've missed my life.

these first few ginger steps back in to the world had to be stylish, had to be brash and bit cavalier.  getting a few of the yarn bombs i made up in the city has felt so amazing.   doing it in leopard print booties makes it feel even better.  exhilarating, actually.  :) 

there is such a freedom in working on the street like this, in spending hours on a single piece and then giving it to the city itself... giving it away.  the photograph becomes an important thing.  the document of an act, an artwork, and a sentiment.  there's no way to determine how long these pieces will stay in place.  my hope, of course, is that they stay stitched tightly around the poles of street signs for years.  this is why i maintain them.  if they begin to sag after being rained on a few times, i stitch them tighter and straighten them out so they look crisp and clean again.  i want the messages of these texts to be as clear as possible.  legibility is a factor, as is style.  i will not allow the work to fall in to disrepair for as long as i live in this city.  i want these bits of poetry to have the best chance of survival possible.  i want the impetus to CRY HARDER to reach those who need the encouragement the most. 

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