Thursday, September 18, 2008

NOTICE, My Brothers and Sisters!!

I noticed the subject of this blog was starting to veer a little too wildly from what I originally intended, so in light of that, I have a brand new blog to post projects with friends and my friends' work and such. It's called "Not Waiting for Wind to Fly a Kite" and it is here and it is shimmery-shiny-glorious and waiting for our little fingerprints to get all over it.

This blog will continue too, of course, but there'll be that one TOO, with more people and more posts, so it's like...over ten times the fun. That's just MATHEMATICS.

Art Party!



Snail I made at our art party last night, for my friend Charlie. Also, Trisha working wonders with sculpey. Also, CANDY CORN!!

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

With Sundae Spoons

Margarita Margarita come my dear, come, come, there is hope for you yet. Come into the light, come into science and daydreams and pots that call kettles black and MEAN it. Come into me, come into love, come into infinity. Come into cake and tea and festoons and ribbons. Come into salsa music and cocaine and parties that last 'til dawn. Come into rapture.

I miss you oh my Margarita, the way your hair twirls black and flimsy 'round your ears, the way the sky seems to look down at you questioningly, trying to guess what you are. I wonder where you are, whether you're floating on icebergs made of grape juice, floating on clouds made of tinsel and cellophane, floating on waves made of oxygen and fish, quick as queens, fast as furies. Digging in mines for buttons, for monocles, for the perfect note to finish that SONG. Where?

When you come back, all will be roses, all will be birds and cotton candy and beautiful. We will practice our waltzes, we will keep time on the table, we will eat time with a fork and a knife and a sundae spoon. Ice cream deserves whipped topping, you deserve a thousand kisses and a gift wrapped in solid gold paper. You deserve old-fashioned radios, water from Tahiti, wine from Belgrade or Serbia. I do not deserve you.

Margarita, Kitten, Lion, Master of all, Master of me. Put yourself in an envelope, par avion, come to me.

********

Part of stream of consciousness project, written in about six minutes, September 16 2008. Fun!:)

Headless, Stillness

There was no wind that night--everything was still like water, like flat plates, like the moon. There was, however, a headless apocalyptic Fury piloting through the sky, and he was angry. Angry at the stillness, angry at the lack of wind. Angry at the lack of Apocalypse. Where he got his horse, I will never know. Where he lost his head, I can't say. He won't tell you. But it's gone, and there is nothing to replace it. Only the empty night sky shining through where head once was, where head now will never be. And that is a Loss, but it is what it is, and I won't say anymore about it.

What he was up to that night is clearer. He was hoping to rain fire and brimstone all upon the earth from above in the clouds. But it was hopeless~every time he called forth flames, they extinguished before he had finished his command. Time and time again he tried and he was thwarted, and his frustration rang out in cataclysmic calls through the stillness of the night. He tried to force volcanoes to erupt, but they declined. He tried to divert a fiery comet onto a direct collision course with earth, but he failed. Everything he longed and hoped to do was futile. Why?

There was no one protecting the earth. There is no forcefield, no angel standing above us to counteract everything that comes to harm the world. He failed purely because he was too weak-willed, at his heart. His intent was not pure. He wavered; he waffled. He knew, in the back of his mind, in his heart of hearts, that the planet that had always frustrated and insulted him, the planet that had laughed at him and called him names and refused to play with him, was also a planet with delicious pancakes and bunny rabbits and the color green. Though his conscious mind was ready to destroy us all, his subconscious mourned the potential loss of warm maple syrup and soft paws against his cheek. Of verdant fields and lights that say "Go," And so, without pure intent, his most long-held plans were foiled.

Which goes to show us: If you want to destroy the world, you better damn well mean it.

********

Stream of consciousness project, written in ten minutes today, September 16, 2008. Fun!

Two of Us



Bill and Tedd's excellent adventure, September 2008.

The Hopelessness of Working at the Bottle Return



Tedd, contemplating his reality, September 2008.

This Ride Will Blow Your Mind



Florida, August 2008.

Tea for Two, Two for Tea



Teacups at Disneyland, trip with Olga, 2006.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Over the River and Through the Woods to Megan's House We Go



I-5 to Corvallis, Oregon. Sept. 13 2008. Ahmad buckled into the backseat. Gotta keep him safe.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Wistful for Wisteria


Wisteria blossom my mom gave me when I was visiting, placed in a dogwood tree outside her house. Wisteria is one of my favorite flowers and I miss it!

Leopard or Cheetah?



Carousel, Florida, August 2008.