3 days

.

sifting through pages, the never-ending pile of papers, the abandoned manuscript(s), the poetry collection, paragraphs cut up, rearranged and taped back together again;  a mangy, coffee stained scroll.  gorgeous.  i tuck it into the box that holds my diaries.  i close the lid.  i close my eyes against the sting of tears.  how badly i want to lay around today and read these things.  especially with my back such a stiff mess of pain.  later.  another day.  one fine day, it'll be such a gift when this box comes back home to me.  for now, a hard patience.  for now, a closed lid.  for now, vicodin and ice. i'm hopeful that tomorrow i won't need the crutch of this little opiate but today i do.  the injury wins.  i am a snail.  i do what i can 20 minutes at a time and then i reward myself with 20 minutes on ice.  i must finish the task of sorting, boxing, throwing out and making way.  yesterday, such an existential crisis about clothes.  i looked in my closet and thought, "who am i going to be now???  i'm paving the way for someone new.  will this new girl still need this sequin jacket???" ha!  i  leave clothes on the street.  they disappear quickly.  more sketches and half finished drawings find their way in to the recycle bin.  suddenly i hate all my earrings and i leave them in a big pile on the kitchen table for whomever may want them.  i pawn off my nail-polish and perfume on my roommate, sara.  i pawn off my big binder of cds on my roommate, ben.  i'm sure i'll find something to pawn off on seth too.  i leave a silk pocket square hanging on his door-knob.  what to do with these old rosaries?  what to do with this huge mirror?  what to do with the ache in my heart?  this old red trumpet that wants to blare and blast and scream.  dear friends, what am i without your hands on my shoulders?  i am going to miss everyone so much.  i close my eyes against the sting of tears.  my 20 minutes are up.

.

anti-solace

let me crawl back under my rock now.  let me crawl back to where i came from.  my coils of black wool and ink, graphite dust stuck to my feet, smudged across my face, empty bleeding heart dragging its ugly shape and shame across the page.  the inches are horrible.  each scratch of the pen, an agony.  each inch of wool twisted into knots, a horror.  but it is the only repair that has ever worked.  it is the only repair i trust, the only truth i know.  i bring my two hands back to myself.  at least for a time.  at least until i can see straight.  no longer interested in reaching toward the world, toward unknown doors.  at least not until it is time to pack a bag.  i see now that what i've been accused of is true.  i talk too good a game.  i take pictures of myself wearing a cap that says SLUT across the front and everyone automatically believes it.  they see my red lips and how seldom i become upset.  they see how independent i am and somehow, inexplicably to me, confuse me with being cold. i am not cold.  nowhere close.  my brashness is a moral responsibility to my own life...  to live as fully and as wholly as i can manage.  but i am not callous and i am not flagrant and i am not without compass or standard.


but fuck it.  what do i know?  i don't know a damn thing.  it's why i want to live.  in order to find out.  something.  anything. and it could quite easily be that it's my mirror that shines askew.

 

what is it about me that makes people seem to believe that i have no feelings?

i've cried three times this week.  everyday, for 3 days running, a small horror found me.  and even in the moment i told myself to feel blessed and lucky because i haven't had a bad run of luck or days of pain in so long it seems.  everything has been going pretty well.  no major complaints.  but i could feel it all along brewing in the background, simmering below my naive feet.  i've expected it for quite some time now that my brashness, my good game would lead directly to the wind being knocked out of me.  i've been going against my better judgement in certain ways because i just became so damn tired of loneliness.  i became so tired, painfully tired, of not allowing myself to know the world and to know other humans.  but i knew it was coming.  i knew i would wake up, humiliated and stupefied, and feel the urge to run away from the life i have here in Oakland.  and  maybe it's necessary?  maybe it's the kick i need?  i have wondered while crying if i should try to feel thankful for this pain...  it untethers me, afterall.  there is no longer any reason to drag my feet.  there are no anvils around my neck.  there are no gentle hands to lay me down and smooth my hair back across my forehead. 

i wake up this morning and a Great Goodness finds me...

baby's first passport arrived in today's mail.  i kissed it and kissed it and wanted to cry.  it is sitting next to me on my bed right this minute.  it is a gem.  it is my most sacred, most valued, most loved possession.  today, it trumps every piece of art i own.  everything pales in comparison to this little book: a testament to faith and struggle and belief.

in 4 weeks i'll be back in my beloved NYC for a few days before hoping on a plane and heading to europe for the very first time.  my very first trip over seas.  i am beside myself.  i can't find the words.  i'll find them in europe, i suppose! ha!  Becca and i stop in London for a night and then the next evening, on the 4th of July, our Independence day (and the 1 year anniversary of when i had my passport photo taken), we fly into Berlin.   a few days later, we will take a train from Berlin to Paris to see our beloved Rammstein play in Nancy, France.  after that?  hahahaaa!  there is absolutely no way to know!  but when (if?) i return, i fly back to new york for a few days before heading back to Oakland.  i'm sure i'll spend the first few days back crying, forlorn and lonely and in total anguish, in my bed before having to tie the apron around my waist once more, put on my bright lipstick, and tell jokes table-side.

i am lucky in that i will have a job to return to.  i am lucky in that i like my job.  i enjoy being around people and i am very good at creating an atmosphere of warmth and ease.  i'm good at being a waiter and, come July, it is a profession that will take me around the world.  well, at least half way.  :)  but i'm telling you, these next 4 weeks cannot go by fast enough.  the passed two days i have been crawling out of my skin.  i have never wanted to hop on a plane so badly in my entire life.

i am not afraid of knowing the world.  i am afraid of NOT knowing it.  i am not afraid of people, not even if i know i will suffer as a result.  i am more afraid of dying without ever having known what real love is.  i can tell you, right now, that i do not believe i have ever experienced it.  not on the receiving end anyway.  not a healthy love.  it seems definitions for love run the gamut and i am a dunce trying to figure out what the fuck i'm supposed to be doing and saying in the midst of it.


i'm supposed to be making art in the midst of it.
i'm supposed to be writing.


at very least, i know what my life is for.

THE DREADED UNKNOWN! THE DREADED KNOWN!

.


i went to my little storage unit earlier today for the first time in 10 months.  so many of the objects seemed like they didn't belong to me.  or couldn't.  but they did.  they do.  and i've been paying rent for them to be kept safely somewhere for the passed year. 

it is a strange time-capsule.  an odd window in to a different era, a different heart.  after i turned my key in the padlock and swung the big, white door open i felt as if i was looking at someone else's belongings.  in so many ways, i was.  i am.  i took one small carload of boxes and artwork back to my house.  as i unpacked, i came across such a funny and weird assortment of shit from my past.  numerous lives!  it made me laugh joyfully to pull a two dollar bill (with red and black ink print) from the lowest drawer of my black Japanese jewelery box.  i dumped the contents of the entire thing on to the floor, cleaned the drawers and hinges of a year's worth of dust, then rooted through the tarnished pieces. 

i made a massive pile of trinkets i'm definitely not interested in wearing anymore, i'll say that much! ha! i looked at the glittering heap on the floor in front of me and felt next to no attachment to any of it.  i'll keep the pieces of jewelery my mother gave me even though it's of a style i no longer wear.   there is the necklace she gave me for my 16th birthday.  here is the necklace she gave me when i graduated from High School.  and here, the necklace she gave me when i graduated from college.  when she died, i took a few of her necklaces.  not because i wanted to wear them, i just wanted them near.  like a Bible.  amulets.  talismans.  and who knows?  maybe the future will give me occasion to wear these necklaces again. 

but i digress.

i didn't remember how much stuff i'd managed to cram inside such a tiny unit.  i rented the smallest one available!  my crap is really shoe-horned in, let me tell you.  it's going to take a few more trips to get this all sorted out.  most of which will be left on Oakland street corners or given to the Goodwill.  i don't want it.  i don't identify with it.  i have no feeling for most of what i've saved.  i want to be rid of it and have a clear, wide expanse in front of me upon which i may build a new life, a new future, a better, more honest Self.  i don't want the anchors of The Past pulling at the corners of my eyes, the corners of my heart.  i don't need the barbs and burrs. i don't need or want the attachments.  it's truly just stuff.  and mostly annoyances.

but my books.  god, my books!!!  i've missed them so much!  i brought two boxes home with me today.  i found the boxes that held my kiki smith and louise bourgeouis monographs and also my collection of jean genet's writings.  i've been wanting to re-read The Theif's Journal since i embarked upon an idependant life a year ago.  i need to have it around me, again, like a Bible.  i need the reminder of his fearlessness, the illustrations of his philosophic bravery and poetic swagger. 

right now, i am uploading my cd collection in to my laptop.  soon, i'll be able to relish in the sounds of my brilliant music collection as i stomp back and forth across Oakland and San Francisco.  i've been without Fugazi and Tori Amos and En Vouge and TOOL for a year!   a fucking year!  it's so good to have my music collection here in front of me.  it is an ecstasy, truly. 

.


the future grins from its dark corner.  change is afoot.  there is no reason to think his grin is sinister.  he is merely chuckling at the surprises he knows are in store for us and of which we will be amazed and glad - these same things which we (i too) are afraid of now.  the Unknown is a scary motherfucking thing,  but i feel the fear and barrel forward anyway.  like my friend said "get busy living or get busy dying".

it's easier now that i have music to do it to.  ;)



let's live, kid.

i am spending all my free time apartment hunting and it has not been much fun

so here is a song.



boxes everywhere. bags of clothes for the goodwill. a meeting later today about an art show and an apartment to go check out too. time is burning. i feel like homeboy's coat.

it will all be worth it in a few short weeks.

i sat down with my tea, back in bed with my notebook, in the early morning. black outside. steam and honey in my cup. i scribbled the date - Dec. 15th - and my pen moved no further as i realized there are only 2 weeks left in this month: only 2 weeks left in this year. and i have only just taken a breath. i have only just had a short rest. i look up and we are on to the next thing. i am not complaining. i have finally learned how Good it is to be busy.

life is changing. it has too.

i am changing right along with it.

even this blog is changing. and i guess that makes perfect sense: as i change so do my expressions. i am in an in-between, something of a transition or transformation. and i feel encouraged by this. bare with me while this mirror wobbles and attempts to show my reflection again.

and in the meantime, i twist up new roses and lay the oil down, speeding toward the new year with as much strength as i can muster. we're almost there. finish strong.

here i am

hello! good morning! i missed you! :)

i missed the click of the keys below my fingers and this time in the morning to ramble on and on. but it was wonderful to have a friend here. especially daniela. we've been friends since we were 14. we met walking home from school one day and have been close ever since. she brought pictures taken when we were ditching school one day, trying on the clothes in the Scottish Shop. hahaha! kilts and jackets and hats! hilarious! and, though we look the same to each other, we look like total babies in the photographs. and the entire time she was here we laughed hard! just picked right back up from where we left off like not a day had passed since the last time we saw each other. we also had a lot of heart-to-hearts too. though our circumstances are different, we are in the same place of transition- realizing our own adulthood, considering ethics and values and trying to choose a path through life rather than having the path choose us. that stage. that scary, daunting stage full of uncertainty and anxiety. the fear. and so fate brings us together just at the right time when we can talk and explore and wrestle together for a week- laugh at ourselves and help each other along. having my longest friend here in my home all to myself was so encouraging and just plain joyful.

and now- coffee and the early fog and scribbling in my notebook. the meandering of my morning routine. the chill and the quiet. i wrote for a solid 2 hours this morning. my path becoming clearer and clearer. integrity as necessity. ethics as a MUST. courage. courage. courage. and, as elisabeth relayed, "the continual TRY".

all of a sudden, so many people bought work down at the gallery. THANK YOU! i can't even tell you what security you have provided! what encouragement and faith! and right in time! just what i needed, just what i was craving! the grand NUDGE to keep moving forward. ((((HUGE HUG)))) you lend me such bravery.

as my pencil scratches, i become more and more self-assured, more rooted in the relevance of the work, the necessity of my practice. i begin to feel like Kusama- that my work is "art medicine". i need it. i cherish it. i believe in it. i will follow it wherever it leads.

and last week, we just played. i started crocheting a new banner and painted some more little alices that need to be adorned with glitter and stamped out some hearts to be cut out and hung on the wall. :) fun and healing and playful. that stuff is so necessary within my practice- doing something light-hearted gives me strength to continue exploring Loss and what it means, how it effects us, and what benefits it can provide... that ruined landscape is also the site where hope springs... and how to locate that hope, that flowering, that incentive to continue. the grand NUDGE again and again. HOPE as a call to brave, compassionate action.

i'm happy to be back inside the Blackland. happy to ramble on and wrestle. i didn't get on the computer at all really while daniela was here. there's a lot to read and write back about, a lot to catch up on, a lot of research to continue, a lot to learn. but it was wonderful to have a little vacation here at home. i am recharged and resolved and reassured, and i'm very happy to see you! good morning! :)

big and beautiful life changes on the horizon...

for the past several weeks, my sweetheart and i have been talking A LOT about quality of life, goals, dreams, plans, etc. and the time has come to make a move on these things. we are currently at our two-year anniversary of moving out here to napa valley. and though many positives have come out of living in such a beautiful landscape, the truth is that there simply aren't many opportunities for artists out this way... or anyone really who isn't connected to the wine industry. i have to drive an hour and a half to participate in the san francisco art world. and it has definitely been an uphill battle to get to openings, be involved, be supportive of my own community, and be a recognized face in the scene. i'm actually amazed i've been able to get as much done as i have being this far away. and i miss my art school buddies more than i can say. gas money to the city isn't something i have to burn every single day. and so the decision has been made to get rolling again, get back to the hustle and bustle, back to the land of the living. i am so excited and happy that i almost can't stand it. i am relieved and hopeful. i miss my beautiful city by the bay. i miss having close access to museums and galleries. i miss everything about living close to a cosmopolitan place. every single thing. and so i've already been sending out resumes this morning. i can stand the long commute for a couple months until we have the cash saved up to move. besides, if everything is going well right now in new york at AAF, i'll have most of the money we need to make the transition. i'm just thankful we have a plan now, something to work toward together that we both want, that we both need.

and so in the spirit of hope and change, if you're in the SF bay area (or even near it) and you catch wind of something, please think of me and let me know. it doesn't need to be art related. i am quite the skilled custom framer though and also a very effective research assistant. i'm aiming for jobs that i actually want, first. it's always best to aim high rather than settle for what you know you can get... though, if need be, i will. i want to move back so bad that, if it comes down to it, i'll suck it up and wait tables again. it's worth it. completely.

in other news, i spent the entire day painting yesterday and the next 5 footer is almost done. i hope to get it wrapped up today after The Almighty Jog and a breakfast of raspberries and coffee. :) i must say... this recent wave of painting and drawing that has flooded in to me, out of me, all around me, clogging up the living room, makes me feel so good and alive. and writing writing writing too. life is good and i am soooooooo anxious to move forward again.

good morning. :)

looking for home...

after dinner last night, we all sat around and talked and laughed on the great big veranda at the neighbors house. they told us about funny and wacky camping trips they've been on, all the little sideways adventures and fun... and it dawned on me that my sweetie and i have been on one big sideways adventure since the day we got together. we've moved every year and a half for the passed four and a half years. and though a couple of those were to seize beautiful opportunities, it always makes for a strange transition and re-ordering of life. and come to think of it... my family moved a lot when i was a kid. i didn't grow up in one house. i didn't go to one high school.

anyway, when we moved here a year and a half ago, i couldn't seem to get up the energy to unpack. i think it took me a good 8 months to set our possessions in order. and of course, every time i opened a new box, i saw all sorts of objects that i no longer wanted, no longer needed, and some ghosts tried to get out too. and for the first year of our stay here, our little home has been in a constant state of re-arranging, removing, weeding through, getting rid of, rotating paintings, etc, etc, etc. and as i was telling the neighbors about this last night and watched their eyes change and heard how chaotic it sounds to most people- moving that often - i realized that maybe it took me so long to unpack the boxes because i feared i'd just have to repack them soon enough. my sweetheart and i have lived an a strange moment of upheaval and change for almost 5 years. some of it good, some of it not so good, but we've managed to be good to each other in spite of all that...

and so when i started feeling nervous about the house we looked at, nervous over what a big decision it is, i realized that i'm sort of scared to put down roots... i don't want to have to yank them back up. i don't want to have to relocate anymore. at least not for a few more years. i want to get down to enjoying my daily life and be free of the feeling of impending DOOM of having to move again. it's been hard on both of us and i'm ready to settle down for awhile. i'm ready to build and grow and change IN ONE SPOT. i want to start putting together a show and making plans and all sorts of wonderful things which is so hard to do in a state of flux. tremendously hard. and the longer i'm here in this area, the more i love it, the more i see the value of living in a place like this. i don't want to uproot again and go some place different just yet. i want to keep running through the vineyards with my dog, writing and drawing first thing in the morning, painting and playing. i don't want to lose these things. i want to keep them safe. i want them to grow and get bigger. i want them to weave in and out of my day and i want to feel secure enough to just be happy where i'm at. my sweetie feels the same way. we want a bit of ease and a bit of consistency and all those adult things that once upon a time sounded so boring.