strawberries and weed

2011-03-26T13:37:00.000-07:00

hi hi hi don't know if anyone drops by here any longer (or of anyone ever did in the first place LOL!l1O1L1!l!l!!) but in case you missed the memo

SIMPLYMALADROIT.BLOGSPOT.COM

i promise to post art there more often. basically wanted a blog with a less provocative title. not that this is particularly CRAZY. just a different phase of my existence

2010-09-20T23:20:00.001-07:00

siiiiiiiiiiighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

tired lonely nights

2010-07-26T16:50:00.001-07:00

Words cannot describe how in love I am with Janelle Monae. I've been trying to find good new music, but always ended up listening to the same genre of skinny-white-guy&his-guitar or lovely-lady&her-piano type music. Ms Monae is refreshing to say the least... I had the opportunity to "meet" her, though in this case I have stretched "meet"'s definition to mean I was part of a giant throng of fans grappling to get her autograph at the All Shook Down Festival in San Francisco yesterday. (And my! What a horribly cramped and painful experience!! But worth it!) I love how she pushes boundaries through her music which defies categories, but also her presentation and style of dress. Hints of James Brown, Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, and the feel-goodery of the 1950s.

And that last bit is what intrigues me the most and is possibly why I am so fascinated/enamored with her style of dress. The pompadour, the tuxedo, the saddle shoes... so strongly associated with good old rock n' roll - a genre that is frequently seen as a style of music appropriated from the black community by the white entertainment industry. There's just something so powerful about Janelle Monae reclaiming that image and using it full force with bold confidence, making news, making headlines, and apologizing for nothing! I'm happy to see a talented womyn of color playing around with gender representation (even if she doesn't intend for it to be a political act)!! AHHHHHH

anyway. that was very horribly written. true testament to the fact that i haven't picked up a good book in a damn long time.

things of vanity...

2010-07-20T22:31:00.000-07:00

i've always wanted to start a 'fashion blog', though not in the typical sense in that i am slow to pick up trends and usually wear the same thing day after day in shades of black. but here's a sample photoz in hopes of being brave enough to do this! i don't know why i'm so tentative about this, maybe it's because i've been self conscious for so long about my body, my appearance. but now i want to really own it, to be proud!!

2010-07-03T01:12:00.000-07:00

I wish I knew how to write witty things.

But I wasn't blessed with that sort of thing. Instead I am blessed with an intensely neurotic personality that it, maybe-sorta-kinda the bane of my existence. I wonder what it is like to be fearless, to ooze confidence while taking self-assured steps along any path! To say -- WORLD, HERE I COME! I guess that's part of it too-- always wanting to be someone else.

Maybe I possess some redeeming qualities, approaching situations with caution, but it just seems like the reckless always have more fun.

OH WELL, AT LEAST I AINT DEAD

I am quitttttteeeeeee nervous about tomorrow. Packing up again, rolling up my clothes, shoving things into boxes. I'd like to think I'm a little better at it now, knowing what to bring, or maybe I am forgetting 123907 things and will have to purchase them again at Walgreens and get ripped off because they know I have no other choice. BASTARDS! I wonder to myself why I never stay constant in any one place. I could save myself so much hassle!!!

another bland summer

2010-06-14T19:56:00.000-07:00

but in other news: the cat has unceremoniously taken a dump NOT in her litter box. What oddly colored turds!!

I have "officially" begun cleaning my room, and not in the way I used to do it which just involved rearranging shit and stacking shit, but actually DUMPING all this shit I have accumulated over the time of my entire existence. It's an amusing venture, but mostly frustrating as I am forced to confront my packrat/hoarder tendencies. And even as I am digging up this crap, I still relinquish it with EXTREME difficulty. Broken necklace chains, found rings, old barbie dolls, hospital wristbands, baby teeth kept in a jar, sketchbooks -- I guess I've always liked the idea of a physical memories, and that with my over-sentimentality results in a fucking disaster of a room. Cluttered with trinkets in every nook and cranny, collecting dust and flea shit.

But I'm looking forward to this clean(s)ing process... my room won't be embarrassing anymore to guests and maybe it'll help me let go of things better.

And the above photo is just to show off my WALL which is now BARE!!! WOW!!! and i was eating a pomegranate. new painting idea.

change is beautiful

2010-05-18T23:06:00.000-07:00

oil on linen, 20 x 24"

dedicated to all the beautiful womyn in my life who inspire and move me

last flowers - radiohead

2010-03-01T01:18:00.000-08:00

Appliances have gone berserk
I cannot keep up
Treading on people's toes
Snot-nosed little punk

And I can't face the evening straight
You can offer me escape
Houses move and houses speak
If you take me then you'll get relief
relief, relief, relief, ...

And if I'm gonna talk
I just wanna talk
Please don't interrupt
Just sit back and listen

Cause I can't face the evening straight
And you can offer me escape
Houses move and houses speak
If you take me then you'll get relief
relief, relief, relief, relief...

It's too much
Too bright
Too powerful

Too much
Too bright
Too powerful

Too much

shitty cellphone pic of my painting :)

anger management

2010-02-12T01:32:00.000-08:00

here i am, avoiding statistics homework, stewing (though i really shouldn't) about my incident of the night. Y RUMINATE???

but i suppose run-ins like this expose to me the fragility of my composure, any semblance of maturity, because my temper can be set off so easily. and i wonder if it's often because i assume and judge too much based upon a few interactions? and unfortunately, they've (recently) been unpleasant interactions with heterosexual men. and i'm so surprised at myself at how my anger allows me to stoop to problematic racializing of these men, this violent barrage of words in my head that would make any ethnic studies professor cry at my lack of respect for the tenets of race-as-a-social-construct philosophy. forgive me. off duty.

i understand that i'm not completely guiltless in this case. i didn't curse, but i know i used words that were provocative and didn't really mince anything. it also surprises me one of the first things that people resort to, when they encounter something unexpected, is to begin insults based on gender or race. in this case it was gender, dismissing my words, interrupting me by saying i was "emotional", well SHIT MAN you really want me to shut the fuck up? then LISTEN FIRST before you fucking cut me off dipshit.

of course this is all contextual. i'm sure i wouldn't have given a rat's ass if it was any other class, but this is MY CLASS assholes; nic & i are entrusted with the responsibility of providing a safe, confidential space where students can share and feel comfortable. DO NOT INTERRUPT MY CLASS AND EXPECT ME TO SIT THERE AND LET YOU HAVE YOUR WAY.

and there was so much condescending, problematic shit this group of men said to me, things about not wanting to talk to me near the classroom because the 'women' would hear; SHIT SON IN ALL YOUR CHIVALRY you dont recognize me as a womyn? wow....!!!!!!!!!

anyway. as this entry progresses i feel my brain unravelling into my pre-pubescent 3rd grade playground, boybeater self.

sigh!!! if only involuntary castration was legal!!!

2009-12-17T13:47:00.000-08:00

taking a break from cramming lectures (AHAHAHA last minute studying oh god)
but i wanted to remind myself of things i need to do over break!

-relax! sleep more
-CREATE! one creation per day - drawings, paintings, crafts, poems, random origami/kirigami
-visit olde friends
-make my own clothes/take on fashion projects
-read for ENJOYMENT (a novel idea!!! bad pun omg)

ENRICH SELF AND BE MERRY

leaving the wilde-erness

2009-12-13T12:16:00.000-08:00

If this house has taught me anything, it has taught me that Lady Gaga the Narcissist is uber hot shit among the gays and has pretty catchy tunes.

I'm going to be moving out in a week and I'm confronted with all these different sentiments about my stay here in Wilde House of madness. My primary complaint, of course, was the perpetual squalor but also generally feeling out of place. I met a lot of great people that I had great conversations with, had a nice roommate, had fun at (some of) the parties, but I think this house lacks a certain type of community that I am seeking in my living situation. Sure, people can choose to use (and abuse!) any substance they want, but living with that stuff going on outside my door was problematic and uncomfortable at times. I would write more but I feel like the legality of certain things would come into question. oy!

I'm not really sure what I wanted to blather about today. I finished an 8 muthafuckin AM final yesterday and I'm glad that's off my back. There's so much to say about every semester here ata Berkeley. It's a shame I don't write consistently to remember every incident along the way, but this year definitely was chock-full of........INTERESTING tales. I was married to the house yesterday (alongside other Wildebeests who were moving out) and it made me kind of sad to leave this place... but also really happy to get some change in environment. CHANGE IS BEAUTIFUL!

That's really the core of everything sometimes... being brave enough to say yes to change and getting out of your comfort zone. I have a lot to think about this upcoming break, about my outside commitments, relationships with people, art, my position as a student, activism, etc. I'm looking forward to a good month of introspection and a new semester in a different place and more femsexalicious cunt love!

at times there's fear of
introducing difference&dissonance into
a long standing routine tried and true
but when i feel my enthusiasm
wilt and harden into a
perpetual ennui
i must galvanize anew
please don't forget that i am still someone you knew but
i have changed & grown beyond expectations, even if they fall short of your dreams
but these are my dreams
to be a

snake shedding skin with soul still intact but
i've shorn off the
malice and hate get it off my back so that i am
something more radiant
still tarnished and estranged
but am exactly where i need to be exactly here in this place
present and solid but morphing and changing
transforming
like the Earth; i love you in your august heat and november death
leaves fall, and the cold air bites; i used to huddle in contempt in a corner
and demand the sun
but so wise! so wise!
that's how it works
to live change grow lose gain die and accept
you are i am we are where we need to be

conversations

2009-10-22T16:06:00.000-07:00

"Ok, ok, stop stop STOP! Listen -- Regardless of impact versus intent, he has disrespected you on multiple counts in multiple ways. He will not be the last white male who disregards your authority, and every time you stay silent, every time you don't take action, you become complicit in supporting his white privilege because he thinks it's okay. SO SPEAK OUT, TAKE ACTION...[and BEAT HIS ASS!]"

"You are exactly where you need to be."

-Beautiful R the F who gives me blunt & useful advice

LIFE! & AAWAA art show

2009-09-22T10:33:00.000-07:00

AAWAA's 20th anniversary celebration/exhibition is THIS SATURDAY!
(Asian American Women's Artist's Association)

September 26th, 2009
6:30-9:30pm
tickets $10 students, $15-50 sliding scale
SOMarts: 934 Brannan Street, San Francisco
SHOW YOUR SUPPORT FOR WOMEN IN THE ARTS!!!!!
aawaa.net

I am deeply privileged to have some pieces in this show alongside the work of so many accomplished women. I stopped by the gallery yesterday to help out and it looks SO FUCKING COOL, i am stoked. Excuse the juvenile cursing. HAVE I NO OTHER MODE OF EXPRESSION?? I'm not going to give to much away, but it's going to be a great show with music and madness and if you're 21+ or have a pretty face---wine and hors d'oeuvres (i had to google the spelling for that. way to go.) But in all seriousness, it's a very professional, mature event. I'm just a twatty intern/research biatch helping to volunteer.

---------------------------------------

past month has been hectic, and even then that word is somewhat of an understatement. Of course I exaggerate, being the drama-queen that I am, but I've become involved with a number of beautiful organizations that take up so much of my time. I've questioned why I do it, why I contribute so much energy and effort -- some masochistic tick -- but no, I truly believe in these orgs' mission statements. And it's wonderful to be part of something that can make change. Maybe not at a radical, large-scale level... but holding events, workshops, discussions to give people a little more hope in the world. It's worth it!!! Allowing others to believe in themselves & develop confidence, reassuring people that they are not alone.

Even as I write that, I wonder if I am being sarcastic with myself. That was too many exclamation points.

Needless to say: I have taken the day off. I have resolved not to go to class until 3:00pm.

ja ja

2009-07-21T22:39:00.000-07:00

"Conversations with doG on the Subject of Chaos"
watercolor, ink, acrylic on wood

HA!!! how's that for a pretentious title!

I had a lot of painting ideas for the summer but taking classes is a lot more time-consuming than I anticipated so those are unfortunately on hold... for now. Classes are kicking my ass (as usual) with increasing rapidity since cramming a semester's worth of material into six weeks is akin to mental abuse. BUT I OVERDRAMATIZE...

I had an unintentionally vegan lunch today. Maybe it's because I love my fruits/veggies that much, but really, dumping a bunch of carrots, salad and fruit into a box and stuffing it my bag takes less time than cooking pasta. (Oh lord, I love pasta.)

Claire Denis' Chocolat is beautiful. I recommend it. No it's not the one with Johnny Depp.

Nothing else to report... I came down with the flu last week which gave me a throaty wet cough & a big bout of lethargy. ...And I gave it to my classmates. SABOTEUR!!!

OH and Hanes underwear. I love it. Want to run around in it all day.WOW CHECK OUT MY ABS where did those come from???

thoughts on pride, general queerio-ness, cheesy shit

2009-06-30T00:28:00.000-07:00

After devising extensively detailed fabricated plans, S. & I headed out to San Francisco PRIDE this weekend (June 27-28) for the very first time. We had a great time, though I felt overwhelmed at times with so many things going on at once within such a small space. I wish we had hung around Dolores Park more, since I've never seen such a large congregation of dykes in my life... and for the first time in awhile, I felt truly boring. But it was a good sort of boring, if that makes any sense at all. Not like, wow I am dull and dreary, but sort of a feeling of complete acceptance to the point of normality, and therefore the mundane. You know, just another pair of uhauls.

Dyke March was beautiful and I felt, for lack of a better word, just really fucking PROUD and more confident in my queer identity. There was such a positive, celebratory energy in the air--with the music, the cheering, the bared tits, and loving couples surrounding me in every direction--I couldn't help but be overjoyed and grateful to be part of such an experience and appreciative toward those who made it happen.

And having S. standing there next to me, hand firmly clamped around my waist and kissing me on the cheek every five seconds made me appreciate how fortunate I am to have her, especially after everything we have been through. Which is why, in some ways, our Pride weekend was tamer, but more sentimental because we were celebrating the ability to be together and to do so without shame, albeit temporarily for a weekend.

strong cheese. like aged cheddar.

movies!

2009-06-20T23:56:00.000-07:00

I have figured out a simple but effective way to throw my cat into a complete frenzy. I bellow "Oh" loudly for an extended period of time and her head cocks to the side, her pupils dilate to Little-Mermaid-proportions, ears flatten, and she skitters away under the bed. I'm probably sending her little brain into a seizure. I imagine the little workers in her head screaming "STIMULUS UNRECOGNIZED. SYSTEM FAILURE! SYSTEM FAILURE!" Anyway I really should stop being a sick bastard and leave her alone. But how I love them shits and giggles.

I've been watching quite a few movies lately, since there's not a lot to do in this area and not too many people to see. My mind likes to believe everyone is just really busy/not back yet, but perhaps it's just the failure of my social skills. and I'm a hermit. I watched Pixar's "Up" twice and cried both times, though the first time I cried at every major plot twist, prompting the person sitting next to me to lean away in fear of catching my oversensitive cooties. "The Proposal" was a chick flick movie, generic fluff to occupy my time. Most of the movie consisted of wide, panoramic nature shots of the Alaskan terrian and sort of screamed "HEY!!! DON'T YOU REALLY WANT TO VISIT ALASKA??? LOOK HOW AWESOME IT IS. AND WE HAVE PEOPLE LIKE RYAN REYNOLD WHO JUST STRIP RANDOMLY OUTSIDE!!"

"Fatal Attraction" scared me out of my wits, what other way to hone in the point of "CHEATING-IS-SO-BAD" than to make the mistress a psycho. poor bunny. :( "The Tracey Fragments" was innovative in its... literally-fragmented presentation of Tracey's life and memories. I really loved the parts where she fantasized and went back to old thoughts. I really felt like I was in her head. But the ending left me unssatisfied. "Conversation(s) with Other Women" depressed me to death but I enjoyed the witty banter, hopeless romanticism/harsh no-nonsense reality of it.

Am debating whether or not to start painting next piece. It's at that stage where I'm afraid that if I add color, I'll fuck it up but then the paint can't be erased because the wood will absorb it and it is THERE TO STAY. Hm. Well here goes nothing.

Found a lovely sublet apartment for the summer. Excited to go back so I can stop rotting my brains. Super-Mario is REALLY DIFFICULT and I think I am developing carpal tunnel.

2009-06-14T02:13:00.001-07:00

should i stay or should i go!

post-trip natterings/ranting etc

2009-06-06T00:58:00.000-07:00

~~GODFATHER REFERENCE~~
sometimes it's some kind of - work in progress
watercolor on wood

WOW IT'S REALLY LATE/EARLY!!!!

Just returned from a trip to Japan & Taiwan with the female members of my family. Am currently jetlagged (or as my dad likes to say, "FLIGHT JAGGED!!") and transferring hundreds of photos onto my computer. I don't know if I have enough memory for this... Japan was an amazing experience and I had a great time, even while being herded from place to place with militant expediency. Taiwan was good, bad, and ugly due to some unforeseen dramarama. Sweet Mary, how things go awry.

A lot of our trip consisted of travelling time on trains, taxis, and planes (Japan Airlines = good!), which lend themselves well to overthinking, negative rumination, and all sorts of introspective fun time for my neurotic mind. And I reached a lot of personal conclusions about myself in other spaces and the compartmentalization of my life, but pondered the difficult conflicts found at the intersection of "East meets West", gender roles, social norms, sexuality, --insert other social science topic. (probably also due to my reading materials: Inga Muscio's inspirational Cunt & Roland Barthes' Empire of Signs which I have a whole lot of problems with, but I digress).

But the topic that grasped my mind that I obsessed about a lot was the language and how difficult it can be to bridge gaps when one only knows how to speak, knows the basics of communication, but lacks the sociocultural upbringing/exposure that is important to cultural understanding. I wanted to express myself so many times, to discuss my interest in LGBTIQQ issues, racial inequity, or how problematic I find traditional Taiwanese gender roles to be, but I was held back by two things:
a) lack of extensive vocabulary to even discuss those things. (Attempted conversation with astute-14-year-old cousin about politics [SO SRS!!!] and ended up calling economics "money stuff" and government institutions "things that are strong with power".)
b) social 'rules'/norms

b) is of most importance to me because I overstepped about 5000000 social rules of them during this trip and my disownment is now imminent. These rules are pervasive and are in every aspect of communication and social practice, and growing up Asian-American in a traditional Taiwanese household, I automatically respond to situations in a oh-so-very-Taiwanese fashion in specific environments. Yet outside of those spheres, I can express myself in different ways, my voice is heard. I'm not written off as some young, female-thing that is going to be married off and forgotten. But the very moment, the instant I am thrown back into these specific environments, where does that voice go? The insidious silence that I grew up with, the silence ripe with its taciturn, demoralizing lessons come back, and I bow my head in shame for even entertaining the possibility of behaving any differently.

Do not speak until spoken to. Hold your tongue even though you disagree because you are in no position to speak. Thank people excessively. Always say "Pai sei" and refuse gifts. Remember your place. You must get married to a man and produce spawn; preferably males k thnx! Obey your husband. Obey your mother-in-law. Don't talk back. Be modest. Don't sit like that.

So here's all this passive aggressive exchange, with no one saying what they mean and it often results in miscommunication or exploitation of those with less social capital. The prime example: the daughter in law. Because she "belongs" to her husband's family, she is not permitted any other luxuries. Her role is serve her new family. But what happens when there is abuse, mistreatment, clear human rights violations, actions of disrespect?

It becomes her fault.

WHICH IS BULL-FUCKING-SHIT.

Her husband's anger? She must have done something wrong. Bruises all over her body? She deserves it! All the drama in the household? She must be gossiping! You know how women gossip all day and don't do anything important! Ugly child? Oh, it's her genes... Child misbehaving? She's such a horrible mother! How can she NOT please everyone?

I just grow so angry at how vulnerable and victimized women become when these social constructs are perpetuated. Yet my prototypical behavior reinforces this. My bowed head, lowered gaze, mouth-shut self is doing nothing about it. But sometimes I reach a threshold and I can no longer tolerate the crap, so i speak out. But the moment I do, I am villified and seen as an ingrate. My protests are never seen as a defense against a problematic hierarchy, they are seen ONLY as violations. Because any voice raised is seen as disrespect against elders who supposedly know all and nothing they say can ever be disputed. So how can things ever change? Can it EVEN change? Perhaps, through education and rethinking gender roles and expectations. At the same time however, my privileged background and my liberal-twat opinions of the issue could be perceived as slightly imperialist-- my Western values imposed on another culture that I want to change. sounds familiar.

I am forced to compartmentalize. Conform and obey in one part of my life -- the good daughter. Question and outreach in another part -- the student.

So inconclusion: a conundrum. And I want to find answers to these questions and I want to change the way women are treated and to eradicate all this cunt-acrimony but I don't have the words. I don't have the right, because I am female. Baby-pumping machine.

DEFEATISM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE CAN NEVER WIN!!!!

please excuse this discomfort

2009-05-24T01:39:00.000-07:00

-taken while visiting the UC Botanical Garden

Ever since I've returned to the South Bay I have become more aware of how media functions in altering individual perspectives in different spaces. I haven't been gone for an exorbitant amount of time, fairly average for the typical college student, though I can't say the same for my old high school peers who have seemingly been whisked away by their college towns and have been immersed themselves in radically new lives. It's great for them if they're willing to pay the price!

When I flipped on the television after the long drive home, I started to feel rather uneasy as the bright, multicolored images flashed across the screen. I hadn't watched television for about half a year. And so revisiting this machinery was at once familiar yet foreign, but within a matter of seconds the exoticism of it receded as the machine continued with its expedient authority over my attention. And I wondered... Isn't this the material I analyze? Aren't these segments of corporate funded expression what I heavily critique? And I guess it was somewhat of a reality check because I realized the overwhelmingly pervasive and incurable role of media within this modern day and age. It's a rather difficult "problem" to remedy, and without a doubt, a means of communication and proliferation of information that is deeply ingrained within American society.

I perused the trashy celebrity magazines, with the din of Tyra Banks' raucous voice filling the room. As I became surrounded by all this, it began difficult to shut it out because I became bothered by the information being espoused... "KELLY CLARKSON GAINS WEIGHT!" "DIET! DIET! DIET!" "HOW TO PLEASE YOUR MAN" "GIRL, DO YOU KNOW THAT MEN LIKE GIRLS WITH LONG HAIR BEST????"

all to bright and all too loud

My experiences from this year have done a phenomenal job in deconstructing my internalization of such propaganda. Yet I still felt a sinking feeling in my stomach, partially because I felt bad for the individuals who breathe and follow such media and treat it as law. This is a rather contentious statement, I know, and I am fully aware of the fact that I am imposing my own value-judgment on others--my personal values about womanhood, independence, beauty, cuntlove, etc.

Is there a point to this rambling? A reality check I suppose. I talked to S about this, and she relayed to me a message scrawled on the dank bathroom stall doors of Dwinelle Hall like scripture: "Don't get caught in the Berkeley bubble." (Unfortunately, I've never stumbled across this fine piece of advice as most of my stall reading material consists of break-up woes and rants about the travesty of male existence.) And it makes so much sense... because I get so accustomed to the cuntlove, the safe space, the self love, acceptance, pride, joy, the openness I am able to exercise, the birkenstocks, dreadlocks, the "happy, happy, happy", that when I waddle on home, the atmosphere (comparatively) is almost too much to handle.

I still believe in change and the reconstruction of imagined American ideals through time, but we've such a long way to go. Just have to think in smaller steps, more feasible terms... Revolutions don't happen over night.

AND IN OTHER NEWS......
'Star Trek' was fucking amazing. (I think I flailed around a bit too much when Leonard Nimoy appeared on screen.) Most movies with time travel business end up rather convoluted, but I thought the storyline was communicated quite well.

Though I will say, (in a similar food-for-thought mode) I am curious as to why the alien races within the Star Trek realm are rarely blonde/blue-eyed. The diversity of the human crew has improved considerably beyond old tokenism practices, and I'm fairly certain that the development of such alien characters had no malicious intent, but it's just an observation. Vulcans/Romulans--black hair, brown/black eyes. (though not in this version as they all decided to go with the skinhead, grungy hitman look). Klingons are usually darker skinned. In one of my classes, the TA discussed how theatre makes political statements about values. I think it's reasonable to consider and evaluate the intersection of race and fictional cultural values of characters projected by the modern cinema. Kirk's risky behavior and his blonde, blue-eyed face implicitly creates standards/values of an all-American hero. Another example relating to values of beauty is found in Diane Kruger's portrayal of Helen in the 2004 version of Troy. Homer never specifically described Helen's features, but how is it that she embodies an Aryan ideal when logically she probably had dark hair? Another example would be portraysl of Jesus. Why the blue-eyed white man? Shouldn't he theoretically appear more like the contemporary idea of "Middle-Eastern"? Hmm. Anyway. There are probably more alien species in Star Trek that I am unaware of... but I'll save that 'research' for another day.

LOOK AT THE TIME! yeah but seriously, what a baller movie. i'd watch that again

pre-summer MELODRAMATIC musings

2009-05-20T19:33:00.001-07:00

'Untitled'
--because i'm creative like that.
the gold looks better in person i swear!!!
-pencil, watercolor, acrylic paint, marker-
--

Moving out of places always makes me sad. There's something about the process that is extremely humbling in that every item within this space becomes trivialized once it's shoved into a cardboard box. The postcards and little ticket stubs I tacked on my wall simply become loose pieces of paper, three-dimensional art projects hogging up my floorspace with their obtuse presence shatter into a million little pieces, and assignments that supposedly quantify knowledge flutter away into the recycling chute.

But it's more than just the small trinkets I collected along the way, it's also how they remind me of who I used to be and the experiences I have had throughout the year. It's rather strange to think about how radically different I used to be one year ago. The people I talked to and shared my stories with, the experiences of displacement and unreality, the lovers in my bed -- the culmination of my reaction to them, to their bodies and words, sculpt me and whittle me down just so, altering and creating this semblance here before the world. I want to thank these people for being part of my life, but some of them leave as quietly as they came without so much as a goodbye. And part of me keeps turning back to trace back visages and to revisit experiences, but somewhere along the way, I crossed some sort of threshold and those bitter wounds I clenched tightly to my heart no longer provide substantial leverage to stake my claim in this world.

There is beauty in loss, but more beauty in the grace of forgiveness. Not only toward others, but also toward oneself because every choice made is one that is all-too-human. You're not a villain, a monster, a degenerate, or some morally corrupt person. You're just someone trying to figure things out.

ANYWAY. I'm going to miss this place.

MOVIE TIME

2009-04-15T22:51:00.000-07:00

Imogen Heap - Hide & Seek
Where are we? What the hell is going on? The dust has only just begun to fall Crop circles in the carpet Sinking feeling Spin me around again and rub my eyes This can't be happening When busy streets a mess with people Would stop to hold their heads heavy Hide and seek Trains and sewing machines All those years They were here first Oily marks appear on walls Where pleasure moments hung before The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity Of this still life Hide and seek Trains and sewing machines Blood and tears They were here first

Mm what'cha say? Mm, that you only meant well Well of course you did Mm what'cha say? Mm that it's all for the best Of course it isMm what'cha say? Mm that it's just what we need You decided this? Mm what'cha say? Mm what did you say?

Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid-sweet-talk newspaper word cutouts (paper word cutouts)
Speak no feeling; no, I don't believe you
You don't care a bit
You don't care a bit

--

grumble grumble must study. things have been ok, but being on a semestre system puts me in a funk. started listening to this song again, makes me feel sad/happy. duality. i like to take macro shots of flowers. *insert lesbian joke* actually i just got back from a meeting where we played some games, and one of them was to name as many fruits/vegetables that begin with 'c' and i almost blurted out 'cunt' but then went with cantaloupe instead. AHHHH MORE CAFFEINE.

2009-03-28T02:06:00.000-07:00

o jesus
make me stop

STIFLE YOUR CURIOSITY OR DECLARE YOURSELF A MASOCHIST

2009-01-30T16:43:00.000-08:00

my heart is fickle
like the winds of the doldrums
those things i want
they converge and repel
oh how they seem to

disappear

i have ignored the weight of emptiness
often

a vessel lost at sea

perhaps i rushedintoofast
and am being punished for my wayfaring
of

body and soul

the sweet scent of stargazers
seizes me
(but ceases to)
hold me
and with that
she will

leave me

almost over

2009-01-17T01:22:00.000-08:00

jie mei: pencil/paper/adobe photoshop

winter holiday is drawing to a close. main squeeze is still on east coast too. not that i'm envious weather-wise... since 70+ degrees in winter fucking rocks. it's weird, i never realised how much the weather really affects me. NEED THAT SUN. that and my plants like it. but yeah i bet DC is going to be insane. i think i'll skip first lecture to go watch the big screening. don't think the professor would mind. obamarama everybody!

still trying to put together a more... sophisticated online portfolio so i don't have to refer people to deviantart. writing resumes is some tough business though, can't mince those words!

watercolour on paper

--
no time ago
or else a life
walking in the dark
i met christ

jesus) my heart
flopped over
and lay still
while he passed (as

close as i'm to you
yes closer
made of nothing
except loneliness

-e.e. cummings

WHY YES I DO HAVE THE AXE

2009-01-10T18:42:00.000-08:00

my immune system sucks

2009-01-01T22:06:00.000-08:00

some words from a ninja i was talking to, with mild alterations (sorry tony ahahaha):

"There's all these laws that say you can't do xyz, which makes cops especially obnoxious... but in the end, it doesn't matters anyway because there is no one to see, nothing to do, and nowhere to go."

art class

2008-12-10T20:17:00.001-08:00

these are from art class. kind of sad we didn't get to post these up since it was the last day and we had to take everything home. and we just finished these todays... but now they're in my room, bathing in bad-fluorescent-lighting. and my handicapped camera tried really hard to take photos of these but couldn't focus too well. it's tired. i'm tired.

1st assignment: paint a pattern. then draw a self portrait without using a mirror in any way you want (any way you want it! that's the way you need it!) doesn't look like me but that's cool, get too sick of my ugly mug and more-pronounced freckles are cuter...? :) and i don't have houses/a village in my hair but wouldn't that be a nice place for the lice to live? ha! i just had an idea about crabs. i'll just... save that for my private sketchbook.

2nd assignment: paint "opposites." any two concepts that oppose each other. professor literally said "HEAVEN AND HELL" which makes me think of nuns and devils. and they are always good fun. (to me at least) i think the comment i got the most was "that's really strange." really liked using the glaze/ochre to give it that parchment look.

both are acrylic on drawing paper 18x24 i THINK

my munny

2008-12-07T18:39:00.000-08:00

Currently attempting to study for finals. BUT IT IS ALL IN VAIN!!!

This is my mini-munny. I took better pictures of it but on someone else's fancy camera. They haven't sent them to me yet. So I used my inferior one which I broke (since I am queen of common sense) but I can still blindly click and hope that something goes onto the memory card. MISAIM AND FIRE!!

Recently developing love for fancy, not-really-meant-for-college-student-budget dresses. Like this fucking gorgeous thing:

Midnight Migration Sheath from Anthropologie

2008-12-02T11:06:00.000-08:00

So I will sit here and morosely eat my yogurt-with-live-active-cultures-acidophilus-and-bifidus until the itch goes away. But I am very tempted to have sex with that cello. There is nothing like that sinister C an octave below the middle that shakes me and makes me jizz my pants. But on the plus side, running around with no panties feels liberating. Just have to make sure there are no strong winds today.

I sawr it! He stole the cah!

2008-11-13T17:26:00.000-08:00

2008-10-31T02:37:00.000-07:00

What does your conscience say?— "You shall become the person you are."

hello

2008-09-18T05:05:00.000-07:00

I think the biggest irony of tonight (rather... this morning) would be waking up at 4:20am.

The streets are empty this time of night. There is a peace to it. But there is the occasional car speeding down the road. Run pedestrian, run! A nice boy warned me about the raccoon in the bushes. I could not see the raccoon. But I decided to take his word for it and not disturb the bush. Stay away from the bush. Why did I wake up? What's on my mind? I took another shower. What were you trying to wash off? I face the world teetering on the edge of awareness with no convictions. Yes, you are right. I will fall for anything.

He asked me did I? I said I might. I think I do. But I won't say. The son and the heir do not need this in their life.

I came back to the hall. Familiar words written on a dry erase board.

For I have known them all already known them all--
Have known the evenings mornings, afternoons
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

She left me a post it reading "Sorry, I failed again."
How far will we go to quell our loneliness?

--

blah blah blah! good morning good morning it's great to stay up late good morning, good morning to you!

2008-09-17T00:46:00.001-07:00

i eat nectarines
and don't get enough protein
while i soak in the sobriety

--
from art class. YEAH SPOOKY DOLL! YEAH!

2008-09-07T20:11:00.000-07:00

Elliot Smith - Needle in the Hay

Your hand on his arm the haystack charm around your neck
Strung out and thin calling some friend trying to cash some check
He's acting dumb That's what you've come to expect

Needle in the hay Needle in the hay Needle in the hay Needle in the hay

He's wearing your clothes head down to toes a reaction to you
You say you know what he did but you idiot kid you don't have a clue
Sometimes they just get caught in the eye You're pulling him through

Needle in the hay Needle in the hay Needle in the hay Needle in the hay

Now on the bus nearly touching this dirty retreat
Falling out 6th and Powell a dead sweat in my teeth
Going to walk, walk, walk four more blocks plus the one in my brain
Down downstairs to the man He's going to make it all ok
I can't beat myself I can't beat myself and I don't want to talk
I'm taking the cure so I can be quiet whenever I want
So leave me alone You ought to be proud that I'm getting good marks

Needle in the hay Needle in the hay Needle in the hay Needle in the hay
Needle in the hay Needle in the hay Needle in the hay Needle in the hay

CHICKEN.

2008-08-15T19:53:00.001-07:00

Grandpa says it best. Wish I could express the same sentiments in my household... but I think someone would sock me in the face. God... every time I see that blasted red bucket come through the door... UGGGGGGGGH

hmmmmmmm

2008-08-15T00:05:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm in a perpetual state of crisis. And while I was brushing my teeth I thought... maybe it's because I'm not even supposed to be alive. Since... I am possibly an accident baby ('possibly' because that naive part of me still wants to believe my parents when they say I was planned). And then that just puts the process in motion, maybe I'm not supposed to be here, not now anyway. Maybe I was supposed to get septic and die, but then the surgeons rode in like the Canadian cavalry. Because think if there wasn't a hospital... no advanced technology... if I was living naturally, I'd be long gone. Everything has been so mindless recently, I mean I've always felt like this in the back of my mind but ever since yesterday it's all so heavy, like a giant ugly fur coat. And those questions I've always had, all stacked up on each other, compounded, surrounding me: what's your purpose, are you doing anything useful, what's your impact on the world, what's the point of this, where is your mind, where are you headed, what's the future going to be like, who are you anyway???? I wish I had a more stable, concrete impetus to move me along through life. To drive me and demand certain things of me. DO YOU (meaning myself) realize YOU know NOTHING!!! absolutely nothing. WHY? because I don't belong here. something like... living OUTSIDE the universal. and i grow ashamed of this dysphoria, seems so teenage, OH SWEET ANGST, but i feel like i can't get up can't do anything just bumbling along breathing not knowing, not comprehending, i don't get it anymore. what is compelling me? i'm relying on instinct now.... well. so much for articulating my existential crisis.

YEAH SERIOUSLY, WHAT IN GOD'S NAME

masterfade

2008-08-10T12:20:00.000-07:00

The Gendered and Labradors, 'for your entertainment tonight!' (in the fashion of the newfound cliche!) -- the rotation of a mechanical system.
It works like this see. She assumes the role of the pilot, puts me in the backseat and says "Don't worry baby, I'm going to take care of this." Like when I'm about to slam my head into the mirror to see if my skull is truly made of steel, she breaks last minute and it's just catharsis, over and over again, in and out of me. Just like him.

"Don't think about the mechanics, sugar. I'm in command now. I'll take care of the norms, I'll please the system and the institutions. Just so they won't notice. See how nice I am? I'm going to let you live life as it is. Just for now."

Very nice, indeed!

--
Andrew Bird - Masterfade

well you sure didn't look like you were having any fun
with your heavy-metal gaze they'll have to measure that in tons
and when you look up at the sky
all you see are the zeros
all you see are zeros and ones
you took my hand and led me down to watch the kewpie doll parade
we let the kittens lick our hair and drank our chalky lemonade
it's not that I just didn't care, I must admit I was afraid
and I'm awfully glad my finger's resting gently on the masterfade
the masterfade
I could have played along
the masterfade
I could have played Mah Jong
but it just takes too long
and I just can't remember
which way the east wind blows, does it matter?
if we're all matter
what's it matter does it matter
if we're all matter when we're done?
when the sky is full of zeros and ones

I saw you standing all alone in the electrostatic rain
I thought at last I'd found a situation you can't explain
with GPS you know it's all just a matter of degrees
your happiness won't find you underneath that canopy of trees
if the green grass is 6, the soybeans are 7
the junebugs are 8, the weeds and thistles are 11
and if the 1s just hold their place the 0s make a smiley face
when they come floating down from the heavens

you took my hand and led me down to watch a papillon parade
we let the kittens lick our hair and drank our chalky lemonade
you squeezed my hand and told me softly that I shouldn't be afraid
'cause all the while your finger's resting gently on the masterfade
the masterfade
I could have played along
the masterfade
I could have played Mah Jong
but it just takes too long
and I just can't can remember
which way the east wind blows
when you're lying on the ground
staring up at an inverted compass
I mean Christ who knows?

oh lord

2008-08-06T18:20:00.001-07:00

Words cannot describe how fucked I am now. I AM SO FUCKED.

The King of Carrot Flowers

2008-08-02T18:53:00.000-07:00

by Neutral Milk Hotel

When you were young
You were the king of carrot flowers
And how you built a tower tumbling through the trees
In holy rattlesnakes that fell all around your feet

And your mom would stick a fork right into daddy's shoulder
And dad would throw the garbage all across the floor
As we would lay and learn what each other's bodies were for

And this is the room
One afternoon I knew I could love you
And from above you how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go

And your mom would drink until she was no longer speaking
And dad would dream of all the different ways to die
Each one a little more than he could dare to try

ayyy

2008-08-01T11:47:00.000-07:00

scatterbrained lately (though this is not unusual), only picking up enough pieces off the floor to barely survive class. a lot of art plans in terms of shoes (and people i have to get back to!!) and that butcher painting i started last year but never finished. but first i gotta survive finals week and review EPIC AMOUNTS OF THEORY. crap.

part of arthousecoop.com's sketchbook project. going to send in my sketchbook today. i really wish i had more time to work on it... so many of them are very shorthand using elementary materials... but i've scanned a couple pics that i actually liked. haha and am only posting a handful here since some are more personal to me. OOOH SECRET. anyhow, i do i hope someone will buy it!!

ANGEL OF DEATH (again)

2008-07-16T19:59:00.001-07:00

when i feel bad i look at pretty things like the angel of death from hellboy 2!!!!

ANGEL OF DEATH

2008-07-12T18:04:00.000-07:00

angel of death from hellboy II; so fucking beautiful. made me insanely giddy while in the theatre. the wings and the eyes... all blinking at me, WONDERFUL.

oh yeah. and...

'THE DESCENT INTO NIHILISM'

bullet with butterfly wings

2008-07-11T09:05:00.000-07:00

the world is a vampire, sent to drain
secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames
and what do i get, for my pain
betrayed desires, and a piece of the game
even though i know-i suppose i'll show
all my cool and cold-like old job
despite all my rage i am still just a rat in a cage
then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
despite all my rage i am still just a rat in a cage
now i'm naked, nothing but an animal
but can you fake it, for just one more show
and what do you want, i want to change
and what have you gotwhen you feel the same
even though i know-i suppose i'll show
all my cool and cold-like old job
despite all my rage i am still just a rat in a cage
then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
despite all my rage i am still just a rat in a cage
tell me i'm the only one
tell me there's no other one
jesus was an only son
tell me i'm the chosen one
jesus was an only son for you
despite all my rage i am still just a rat in a cage
and i still believe that i cannot be saved

-The Smashing Pumpkins
--

i can't think of anything more appropriate. the moment i heard this i said to myself "this is the anthem of July." for now at least.

I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP! I GIVE UP!

824 824 824 824 824
824 824 824 824 824
824 824 824 824 824
824 824 824 824 824

temptation

2008-07-02T19:44:00.001-07:00

...now featuring the seven deadly sins.

--

the misfits - bullet

president's bullet-ridden body in the street ride, johnny ride kennedy's shattered head hits concrete ride, johnny ride johnny's wife is floundering johnny's wife is scared run, jackie run texas is an outrage when your husband is dead texas is an outrage when they pick up his head texas is the reason that the president's dead you gotta suck, suck, jackie suck president's bullet-ridden body in the street ride, johnny ride kennedy's shattered head hits concrete ride, johnny ride texas is an outrage when your husband is dead texas is an outrage when they pick up his head texas is the reason that the president's dead you gotta suck, suck, jackie suck arise jackie o, jonathon of kennedy well, arise and be shot down the dirt's gonna be your dessert my cum be your life source and the only way to get it is to suck or fuck or be poor and devoid and masturbate me, masturbate me then slurp it from your palm like a dry desert soaking up rain soaking up sun like a dry desert soaking up rain soaking up sun

mrcott lives

2008-06-29T18:43:00.000-07:00

look what we did today :)

HT on guitar, and both of us singing. rah rah rah!
MrCott - Anyone Else but You

grounds for divorce

2008-06-28T03:10:00.000-07:00

real ink on paper; moleskine xiv! response to st. juniper's piece

lyrics that read like tarot cards... that was the best friday night i've had in a while. took my bike around the block and when i landed my head spun and my body ached and my skin tingled as if cross-faded and adored.

wolf parade - grounds for divorce

You said you hate the sound
Of the busses on the ground
You said you hate the way they scrape their brakes all over town
I said pretend it's whales
Keeping their voices down
Such were the grounds for divorce I know

On the radio
And the bouncing bodies' drone
Found eighteen reasons I can't pick up on the phone
I said look at the clouds
It's a show all on its own
Such were the grounds for divorce I know

But the darling is dead
We hit her on the head
It looked like a wedding cake
Though the darling is dead
We hit it on the head
It looked like a newlywed

But look at the lovers
And they way they stand
And the way they move and the way move their hands
And look at their babies
And their tiny little hands
And the way they get loved and the way they get loved oh

Oh look at the lovers
And they way they stand
And the way they move and the way move and the way move their hands

bus musings

2008-06-26T19:49:00.000-07:00

A great deal of personal growth and character transformation is dependent on displacement. It forces the individual out of a set comfort zone into a different terrain with different scenarios, and there's not stock response, no default. And when you catch yourself behaving in such a way that you're not used to, it enables you to see deeper aspects of yourself that were there along, but never made apparent because you fell into a rhythm of predictability. But that's one of the grotesquely beautiful characteristics of suburbia. Fell into one of those weird moods on the bus today, leaning against the corner window, feeling the contours of the uneven road surface through my cushioned seat.

Another bizarre day. One of those days were I snap out of the suburban haze and into reality. Seeing people as people rather than actors in the bad B-movie that is my life. Seeing a middle aged man step outside for his afternoon cigarette, with his pale, hairy paunch hanging over his plaid PJ pants in his small unkempt garden, as small boy with hair bleached orange (because he wants to belong) zips past on his scooter, past the church with the crucifix towering high, with banners in Russian and Korean. And the cheery Asian man shuffling onto the bus with his handcart filled with strawberry plants. The gaggles of teenagers howling and guffawing at the expense of the awkward outcasts. The mentally retarded girl sitting behind me with her caretaker provides the soundtrack to this montage with rhythmic shards of laughter.

I go in and out of this. I like it when I'm in. But when I get too used to it... I begin to forget to see people's sparks. On any other day, they're just like me: flesh, blood, bones, cells, and neurons, frantically bustling about with some innate purpose. But on bizarre days! When I'm feeling strange! When I haven't eaten in a while, I can see the sparks with their own set of circumstances, origins, influences, consequences, identity.

There's so much beauty it could make you cry
There's so much beauty it could make you cry
There's so much beauty it could make you cry
-Modest Mouse: So Much Beauty in Dirt

bye bye birdie

2008-06-23T22:23:00.000-07:00

It died.

Oh well. (thanks to those who attended 'the service' and spoke. such beautiful, departing words!!! Farewell hatchling! We barely knew you. I can only pray that everything was beautiful and nothing hurt!!)

Today was odd. A most peculiar Monday.

i find it kind of funny, i find it kind of sad

2008-06-21T22:46:00.000-07:00

it will probably die, but i need a summer project.

(found on the way to the park. crow swooped in front of us with two organisms in its beak, threw them down and began evisceration of one. easy to mistake intestines for worms... upon closer inspection, realised they were hatchlings. grabbed this one and the crow took the other and shared with his cronies waiting on the roof top. it flew in from the northgate community and there are too many trees there so no hope in finding the nest. and i'm a busybody. and i'm the victim of a brutal boredom. jacked nest from a failed baby sparrow inception... bigger bird stole the babies in the night and ate them. i found one of them under a leaf though. waiting for mother nature to have its way with the flesh and will then take its bones. because i am creepy!!)

conversations

2008-06-19T23:43:00.000-07:00

St. Juniper asked me, "Why don't you track her ass down with a shotgun?"

In which i replied, "Haha, you've already guessed my plan! Only... I was going to do it with a little more class, a little more... panache."

"Two shotguns?"

"And I'll have a Korean bodyguard with me!!!"

St. Juniper chuckled and shook hisher head. "That works too, I suppose."

--

Prefix turns to Suffix. "Tell me Suffix. Do you ever revert back to childhood when you read those old comic books? Or watch those old tv shows? Or eat at McDonald's, devouring your feelings? I know I do, all the time. It's a phenomenal feeling, being thrust back in time and possessing a different mindset. Nothing matters momentarily. It's like... you just get wrapped up in the simplicity and perfection of archetypal characters; the boundaries between right and wrong are more clear-cut and there's an incomplete understanding of action and consequence: no future, no past. It's hella wack, man."

Suffix grumbles irritably, caressing the nicotine patch on his upper right shoulder. "Silly rabbit. Tricks are for jewelry. Try going farther back next time. Back into your parents' loins likesay. You'll be invisible. Endless. Sexless. And intangible. Now that shit will trip you out."

--
to do:
-get $ back; I AIN'T BALLIN
-great america
-respond to juniper's piece
-kahlo exhibit!!

Frida Kahlo. The Two Fridas. 1939. Oil on canvas.

vonnnegut, metric

2008-06-17T10:58:00.000-07:00

"I was a victim of a series of accidents, as are we all."

--

Choose the highest bidder was my answer
When they told me I was up for sale
Schoolyard, junior high style
Bullies have always tried to buy the better girls
haven't they? Choose the brightest future
pay the death and try to buy the better girls
but failed till now, the cheque is in the mail.

So hang high
Soft rock star
Hang high
Soft rock star
Don't shine before swine

michelle: Bum ho! How art thou?!

ODYSSEUS: i fare well! what of thee

michelle: I is swell! Much thanks

michelle gone AZN: Aiyah bbl

PAUL MAPLE LEAF:dude, you just killed it
...
von Braun:don't give anything away, i'm only on the 2nd season

michelle: Ok

michelle: But everyone dies
I'MSOFULLOFHATE:i hate you

dude.

2008-06-15T22:26:00.000-07:00

miles just made sense. damn...

"well you're right. people like us do have a higher perception of the actual experience of life. but the knowledge you're witnessing in this state is dangerous in that it's so seductively mind blowing, but it's most frustrating quality is its inability to translate to purpose in our world which is the one that matters."

WHEN THE SOVIETS CAME I WAS THERE IN MY BUNKER

little boxes on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky tacky, little boxes on the hillside, little boxes all the same.

WOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

2008-06-15T20:59:00.000-07:00

oh shit man!!!! it's been awhile!
blue to grey switching panels little girl jump
roping with octopus temples the rapist, the rapist on the bus, twenty-two. twenty to. tooooo twenty! cried the tarts. purple racist. XX. II. XXII. 2X2I. 2(XI) 2 (X I i see a man with a combover
when he gets absolved of his sins
it unfurls and trickles down his face like an eel levitating across the ocean floor

MTV IN THE TREES! what!!!? watermelon. melon- likesay some wizard thang. damn. wiz. you talking about Oz? Zoe. No Oz. Like GOD! no i mean gob. a magician. THE FINAL COUNTDOWN?
what's so wrong about watermelons and fried chicken. they are two of my favourite things in the entire world!!!!!!

metric --grow up and blow away

If she weren't writing in blood
She'd bring him her jokes
A new liver
And a shovel for the mud
If he were not knee-deep in mud
He'd bring her his drugs
He'd get her a typewriter

If this is the life
Why does it feel so good to die today?
Blue to gray
Grow up and blow away...;

.........'''''''llp cun tuat i On shon on shone on shines innit . i' n' '"''isnt' nope. sorry sir. we don't tak ethat prom of payment may i suggest a visa.
in backward lands: that's ASIV TO YOU!!!!!! FATHER FATHER FATHER asiv isn't like a seive is it?

like me she feels uncomfortable in the clothes of her ancestors.

ancestors. when you fracture your soul and your mind, that's where you are who are you with. you become your ancestors!! you destroy your mind and you become millions and billions of entities all across the universe. we're like stars.

glowing light floating across a sphere........ of dark.... the sky changes from blood red to sea blue SEE BLUE!!!!! see blew. oh man. boy did he. fuck me.

we're just embers trying to find a wick. ha... come on baby light my fire

:U wheeheeOO!

THERE'S A SKELETON MAN ON THIS SHIRT!!!!

(do you ever blow your nose after you smoke and realize that your snot smells faintly of herbs?)

starting tomorrow

2008-06-13T23:40:00.000-07:00

seven days
i hope he'll be okay
faraway
BREATHE THAT CANADIAN AIR.
(terrence and philip!)

in the mean time i'll wear his misfits tshirt like a charm and say to myself
that homebody will be home soon

just cracked open my new moleskine. i like to sniffffffffffff it. MMMMMMMMMMMM fresh.

(he said) i think i love you

IT'S A PAINKILLER IT'S A PAINKILLER IT NUMBS ME SO!! whoohoo

i'll believe in anything

2008-06-12T21:38:00.000-07:00

i confess to be a hopeless romantic who believes in a selfless, uncritical, unconditional, and all consuming love that fills you up so completely that you'll never be empty again.

'I'll Believe in Anything' by Wolf Parade

Give me your eyes
I need sunshine
Give me your eyes
I need sunshine
Your blood
Your bones
Your voice
and your ghost

We've both been very brave
Walk around with both legs
Fight the scary day
We both pull the tricks out of our sleeves

but I'll believe in anything
and you'll believe in anything
said I'll believe in anything
and you'll believe in anything

If I could take the fire out from the water
I'd share a life and you'd share a life
If I could take the fire out from the water
I'd share a life and you'd share a life
If I could take the fire out from the water
I'd take you where nobody knows you
And nobody gives a damn
said nobody knows you
and nobody gives a damn

and I could take another hit for you
and I could take away your trips from you
and I could take away the salt from your eyes
and take away the spitting salt in you
and I could give you my apologies
by handing over my neologies
and I could take away the shaking knees
and I could give you all the olive trees
oh look at the trees and look at my face and look at a place far away from here

Give me your eyes
I need sunshine
Give me your eyes
I need sunshine
Your blood
Your bones
Your voice
and your ghost

ye older stuff

2008-06-11T00:06:00.000-07:00

finished up my 13th sketchbook (makes me very sad...) but there are numerous unfinished sketches in it so believe me when i say that THIS IS NOT THE END. xiii for life.
[above]: counterpart to another piece i have where the failure to contain comes from the front. veritas - truth. our truths are inside us, waiting to be discovered and to come forth like vines. haha... maybe.

'also a bit terrifying I don't want to be all alone when i tell this story' - rosetta stoned: tool

left: man on bart asked for change. who am i to make change in the world. what is my role.

don't believe a word he says!

to be afraid.

leichenträger zu wache

2008-06-09T22:42:00.000-07:00

"for crimes against himself"... god damn.

This is probably why I can never be an English major. Every time I finish an amazing book I'm just stunned for an extensive period of time. I can't even formulate cohesive thoughts because so much has happened, not only plot-wise but just the entire structure of the novel as a work of art, the art of story telling, the thematic elements, the symbolism, philosophies that the author's words have revealed to me. It's only after careful inspection, going over it again, that I can say what I mean to say and mean every word.

I can't even... asoib7yu8w9oeru2j AHHHHHHH. Yes I read slow. But that's because I can afford to at the moment.

What are your pretenses who are you and what do your actions say about you, to the world and how do they conflict with external and internal morality

--
MORE QUOTES FROM MOTHER NIGHT by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

"The part of me that wanted to tell the truth got turned into an expert liar! The lover in me got turned into a pornographer! The artist in me got turned into ugliness such as the world has rarely seen before."
--
I knew them for what they were, but the fact remained that they were all I had.
--

Oh, baby, baby, baby,
Why do you break my heart this way?
You say you want to go steady,
but then all you do is stray.
I'm so confused,
I'm not amused,
You make me feel like such a fool.
You smile and lie,
you make me cry.
why don't you learn dat old Golden Rule?

--

It might make me seem more sympathetic, if I were to declare that I itched and blinked and nearly swooned with a feeling of unreality.
Sorry.
Not so.
I confess to a ghastly lack in myself. Anything I see or hear or taste or smell is real to me. I am so much a credulous plaything of my senses that nothing is unreal to me.

--
I have never seen a more sublime demonstration of the totalitarian mind, a mind which might be likened unto a system of gears whose teeth have been filed off at random. Such a snaggle-toothed thought machine, driven by a standard or even a substandard libido, whirls with the jerky, noisy, gaudy pointlessness of a cuckoo clock in Hell.

...Jones wasn't completely crazy. The dismaying thing about the classic totalitarian mind is that any given gear, though mutilated, will have at its circumference unbroken sequences of teeth that are immaculately maintained, that are exquisitely machined.

Hence the cuckoo clock in Hell--keeping perfect time for eight minutes and thirty-three seconds, jumping ahead fourteen minutes, keeping perfect time for six seconds, jumping ahead two seconds, keeping perfect time for two hours and one second, then jumping ahead a year.

The missing teeth, of course, are simple, obvious truths, truths available and comprehensible even to ten-year-olds, in most cases.

The willful filing off of gear teeth, the willful doing without certain obvious pieces of information--

That was how a household as contradictory as one composed of Jones, Father Keeley, Vice-Bundesfuehrer Krapptauer,and the Black Fuehrer could exist in relative harmony--
That was how my father-in-law could contain in one mind an indifference toward slave women and love for a blue-vase--
That was how Rudolf Hoess, Commandant of Auschwitz, could alternate over the loudspeakers of Auschwitz great music and calls for corpse-carriers--
that was how Nazi Germany could sense no important differences between civilization and hydrophobia--

That is the closest i can come to explaining the legions, the nations of lunatics I've seen in my time. And for me to attempt such a mechanical explanation is perhaps a reflection of the father whose son I was. Am. When I pause to think about it, which is rarely, I am, after all, the son of an engineer.

Since there is no one else to praise me, I will praise myself--will say that I have never tampered with a single tooth in my thought machine, such as it is. There are teeth missing, God knows--some I was born without, teeth that will never grow. And other teeth have been stripped by the clutchless shifts of history--

But never have i willfully destroyed a tooth on a gear of my thinking machine. Never have I said to myself, "This fact i can do without."

Howard W. Campbell, Jr., praises himself! There's life in the old boy yet!

And,where there's life--There is life.

--

"I guess it's partly chemistry...getting down in the dumps. Isn't that what they're finding out--that a lot of that's chemicals? [...] They can give a man certain chemicals, and he goes crazy. That's one of the things they're working with. Maybe it's all chemicals...Maybe it's different chemicals that different countries eat that makes people act in different ways at different times...You wonder what's wrong with the world--well, there's an important clue right there."

[I TOTALLY SMELL BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS...]
--
"I'm not your destiny, or the Devil, either! Look at you! Came to kill evil with your bare hands, and now away you go with no more glory than a man sideswiped by a Greyhound bus! And that's all the glory you deserve! That's all that ny man at war with pure evil deserves. There are plenty of good reasons for fighting, but no good reason ever to hate without reservation, to imagine that God Almighty Himself hates with you, too. Where's evil? It's that large part of every man that wants to hate without limit, that wants to hate with God on its side. It's that part of every man that finds all kinds of ugliness so attractive. It's that part of an imbecile that punishes and vilifies and makes war gladly." (to O'Hare.)

--

The hare of history once more overtakes the tortoise of art.

Flight of the Conchords

2008-06-07T13:14:00.001-07:00

If only we could all release our fury in such creative ways...

I WANT HIS MOVES

bits from mother night

2008-06-03T22:56:00.001-07:00

We are who we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.

--

I am a pathological liar, so help me God. It's difficult to catch myself at times, as I accept the countless embellishments and exaggerations as personal truths. Nasty habit really... Will work on it after summer. Let me revel in my falsehood for now.

--

There was one pleasant thing about my ratty attic: the back window of it overlooked a little private park, a little Eden formed by joined back yards. That park, that Eden, was walled off from the streets by houses on all sides.
It was big enough for children to play hide-and-seek in.
I often heard a cry from that little Eden, a child's cry that never failed to make me stop and listen. It was the sweetly mournful cry that meant a game of hide-and-seek was over, that those still hiding were to come out of hiding, that it was time to go home.
The cry was this: "Olly-olly-ox-in-free."
And I, hiding from many people who might want to hurt or kill me, often longed for someone to give that cry for me, to end my endless game of hide-and-seek with a sweet and mournful--
"Olly-olly-ox-in-free."

--
"And what did you learn from those?"

He smiled. "That you admire pure hearts and heroes," he said. "That you love good and hate evil," he said, "and that you believe in romance." (Blue Fairy Godmother)
--
No young person on earth is so excellent in all respects as to need no uncritical love. Good Lord--as youngsters play their parts in political tragedies with casts of billions, uncritical love is the only real treasure they can look for.
--
I was tempted to take the morphine, reflecting that, if it made me feel happy, I would, after all, have enough money to support the habit. But then I understood that I was already drugged.
I was feeling no pain.
My narcotic was what had got me through the war; it was an ability to let my emotions be stirred by only one thing--my love for Helga. This concentration of my emotions on so small an area had begun as a young lover's happy illusion, had developed into a device to keep me from going insane during the war, and had finally become the permanent axis about which my thoughts revolved.
And so, with my Helga presumed dead, I became a death-worshipper, as content as any narrow-minded religious nut anywhere. Always alone, I drank toasts to her, said good morning to her, said good night to her, played music for her, and didnt' give a damn for one thing else.
--
"The arts, the arts, the arts... I don' know why it took me so long to realize how important they are. As a young man, I actually held them in supreme contempt. Now, whenever I think about them, I want to fall on my knees and weep... future civilizations--better civilizations than this one--are going to judge all men by the extent to which they've been artists. You and I, if some future archaeologist finds are works miraculously preserved in some city dump, will be judged by the quality of our creations. Nothing else will matter." (Kraft)
--
...Helga asked herself the riddle of the Sphinx. "What creature walks in the morning on four feet, at noon on two, at evening on three?"

"Man," said Helga, huskily.
--
"The colored people gonna have hydrogen bombs all their own," he said. "They working on it right now. Pretty soon gonna be Japan's turn to drop one. The rest of the colored folks gonna give them the honor of dropping the first one."
"Where they going to drop it?" I said.
"China, most likely," he said.
"On other colored people?" I said.
He looked at me pityingly. "Who ever told you a Chinaman was a colored man?" he said. (Robert Wilson)
--
"It won't hurt when I get killed...Just all of a sudden I won't be any more...Since nobody's going to go on living much longer...I might as well tell you I love you...I mean I really love you...It doesn't mean anything." she said. "Nothing means anything. You go shoot the dog now." (Resi Noth)
--
"No," he said, "this is one of those moments when somebody really speaks the truth, one of those rare moments. People hardly ever speak the truth, but now I am speaking the truth. If you are the friend I think you are, you'll do me the honor of believing the friend I think I am when I speak the truth."
[...]
"We all cling to something," I said.
"To the wrong things--" he said, "and we start clinging too late. I will tell you the one thing I really believe out of all the things there are to believe."
"All right," I said.
"All people are insane," he said. "They will do anything at any time, and God help anybody who looks for reasons." (Heinz Schildknecht)
--

Hier liegt Howard Campbells Geist geborgen,
frei von des Körpers quälenden Sorgen.
Sein leerer Leib durchstreift die Welt,
und kargen Lohn dafür erhält.
Triffst du die beiden getrennt allerwärts
verbrenn den Leib, doch schone dies, sein Herz.

In English?

Here lies Howard Campbell's essence,
Freed from his body's noisome nuisance.
His body, empty, prowls the earth,
Earning what a body's worth.
If his body and his essence remain apart,
Burn his body, but spare this, his heart.
--
"You know what the answer to communism is?" he asked me.
"Nope," I said.
"Moral Rearmament," he said.
"What the hell is that?" I said.
"...That Moral Rearmament movement," he said, "believes in absolute honesty, absolute purity, absolute unselfishness, and absolute love."
[...] Oh, God--the lives people try to lead.
Oh, God--what a world they try to lead them in!
--

Say what you will about the sweet miracle of unquestioning faith, I consider a capacity for it terrifying and absolutely vile.

--

"I've got some advice for you," he said.
"I'd be glad to have it," I said.
"Relax," he said, beaming, beaming, beaming. "Just relax. [...] Life is divided up into phases...Each one very different from the others, and you have to be able to recognize what is expected of you in each phase. That's the secret of living." (Eichmann)

--

As a friend of the court that will try Eichmann, I offer my opinion that Eichmann cannot distinguish between right and wrong--that not only right and wrong, but truth and falsehood, hope and despair, beauty and ugliness, kindness and cruelty, comedy and tragedy, are all processed by Eichmann's mind indiscriminately, like birdshot through a bugle.

My case is different. I always know when I tell a lie, am capable of imagining the cruel consequences of anybody's believing my lies, know cruelty is wrong. I could no more lie without noticing it than I could unknowingly pass a kidney stone.

If there is another life after this one, I would like very much, in the next one, to be the sort of person of whom it could truly be said," Forgive him--he knows not what he does."

This cannot be said of me now.

excerpts from Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.'s Mother Night

beirut

2008-05-29T03:24:00.000-07:00

dimlit stage
ephemeral lights
in shades of ink
against a curtain of ebony
crowd murmuring in anticipation
the band begins to play and
my mind revisits old memories
like gourmet truffles from the chocolatier
big brass rippling accordians exotic rhythms from the drum line as a violin cries
all culminate behind the mournful croon of a fellow named zach
we're all swaying and swinging
amidst the sweet scent of sweat, cigarettes, and weed
as heart wrenching melodies pervade us to remind us
we are not alone
and that the music never dies

Beirut, SF 5/28/08 fucking amazing show

2008-05-27T02:57:00.000-07:00

indubitably incorrect ignominious idle assertions
in public places placed perfectly public to perfection
a false friendly front, faking fond feelings
why would we waste warmhearted wonder
on a meaningless tryst--

i do not like you
even if my pawn is to blame
in a lapse of rationale

that fuckhead's just a walking dick
innocent spectator piece of shit
sucked into an internal conflict
of an unrelenting lack of self control

rendered
incomplete incoherent inarticulate insoluble incapacitated inebriated
in due time

boys oh boys

2008-05-26T00:56:00.001-07:00

SMACKDOWN

s & w

2008-05-23T22:16:00.000-07:00

acrylic on cardboard

damn

2008-05-23T17:20:00.001-07:00

I miss the smell of his aftershave.

meditate

2008-05-20T23:24:00.000-07:00

2008-05-06T15:59:00.000-07:00

now that i'm more aware of what my highs feel like, i find it easier to articulate the sensations. there is a complete understanding of where i am within myself and rationale behind actions that i take, and in some instances, the actions of others. i've also realized that my perception of my high and other people's explanations of their's only underscores how unique our human experiences are. when my roommate talks about her highs, it's somewhat vague and undistinguishable; she makes it sound unknown and esoteric--it is merely a feeling. it has become one of her senses in addition to sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch. 'high' has entered and joined the five senses to become six.

in my case, i can feel myself fall into myself. while theoretically "getting high" gives the impression that you are above yourself, i think that heightened sense of who you are is one's submergence into the Id. and who says that high is up? maybe that iceberg of the superego, ego, and id floats the way because aren't our ideas of direction arbitrary in some ways? up becomes down. one might assume that my immersion into my Id may cause me to become primal: operating strictly on the pleasure principle. but what one has to remember is that beneath the water line, remnants of the ego still exist and the superego is constantly watching you. smoking allows me to see this, to feel my mind and its mechanics and all the cogs turning. one can look at the ascent/descent into id as a regression into childhood. i think i've gotten to the point where i recognize my limits; how much to take to make sure that i'm still connected to the ego: that i still have a sense of the self-ego's governance over my actions. but with others, who lose themselves further, they demonstrate juvenile behavior because everything is centralized immediate needs. and when you push yourself over the edge, i think that's when you experience ego-death. what trips me out is that there are people out there: monks, shamans... who can experience this without the aid of substances. they've tuned their minds so intimately that this holy feeling can be reached with inner awareness. that's fucking radge.

a lot of times people think i'm sleeping, that i've passed out from doing too much. but in reality i'm in my mind, i'm in myself. and in order to experience it in its entirety, i have to close my eyes and momentarily distance myself from the corporeal.

and it's like a saint blessing you momentarily. she's giving you a brilliant gift of tactile awareness so that you can feel your mind, so that you can experience your disembodiment and this separation of self. subsequently, your sensations also become heightened... it's like in order to exeperience your mind, your psyche, your other senses intensify which is why sound can be felt. some people call it a tingly feeling, i call it a "fuzzy place" but i liken it to feeling soundwaves. soundwaves, going up and down, undulating through time and space unseen but concretely there within my mind. and you recognize the complexities of music as each tone, each tattoo, each beat craws across your skin. they're fingers. and as the high intensifies, they tickle you faster and faster and you can't help but laugh!!

i'm quite excited about this class i'm taking next semester called "drugs and the brain". hell yeah!

Jay Dee

2008-05-04T22:36:00.000-07:00

I forgot to post one from last time. May I present to you... a very crooked bottle.

have recently been bogged down in what seems to be an unrelenting cynicism
having difficulty shaking it off

what was she looking at

2008-05-01T13:39:00.000-07:00

music: stone temple pilots - sour girl
i've basically been listening to this song over and over for the past hour because the tv reminded me of it.

my 419 destroyed my 420

still haven't taken a formal figure drawing class so i practiced with m. :) some of these turned out terrible and there is barely any resemblance. haha but i feel some what accomplished by the one with his face upside down because i drew it upside down too. oh and the mickey mouse thing was done without reference... that was just me being silly. the stick figure on the side is a VERY accurate portrayal of my face. hahaha...

(left) fucking around with paints in my 'skine. i... don't know how to paint. need to work on that.

(right) EAT ME.

bart

2008-04-25T22:37:00.000-07:00

quick sketches on the way home. music makes the ride go by faster. or maybe it's because i'm starting to get used to that train ride.

i love public transportation. it's a great way to tune out and think. it's not necessarily the most convenient since your schedule is slightly controlled by their schedules, but i think it's worth it. you learn more about other people and yourself along the way.

older stuff

2008-04-25T22:30:00.000-07:00

...that i haven't posted!

i wish the camera i used was better quality, but it could only zoom so far and i didn't want to frighten the deer.

this is my failed self portrait. at least the graffiti turned out decent. even though it looks nothing like me it was good practice for using the computer to color/paint things.

drawn after i was let go from my first job. yeah yeah yeah...

i fry my brains, unintentionally of course. maybe.

hello

2008-04-24T16:36:00.000-07:00

strawberry

weed

strawberry and weed
strawberries and weeds
strawberry and weeds
strawberries and weeds

what kind of
what sort of
with what constitution of
an arrested action of
cowardice

the colors change from orange to purple
so delicate
like bubbles

and thoughts so fleeting
tickling my sensations and leaving
so quickly

2008-04-16T00:59:00.000-07:00

weeping whining willow why do you cry
is it for the sweet perfume of orange rind
or for the self destruction of mankind
we took the documents all unsigned
and ate them up so no one could find
the secrets hiding in our minds
he's not here to night so i
sigh sigh sigh
this kid he's got butterflies in his legs
to chase away the daily grind
oh dear monotony!
how i weep

he said unto me
ye shall see the future of your demise
of men once wise
but who could not surmise
that within the inks and dyes
lay intertwined lies
found within this enterprise
of mass marketing

assimilate and deny
consider and revise
only to
conform and compromise
once more

did you see her white hair haloed about her face in contrast to the fire dancer at that place oh i believe they shall meet in inferno

it tastes bitter
tiny flashing critters
who sit among the sitters
oh, condemn those who litter
who can say he's fitter
to be the paradigm hitter
huh-hey mister tambourine man
yes i know you can
i
never saw a girl with heels skateboard but he'd be her if he could

give me a hit
so i can give a shit
this discipline is so dimlit
that i cannot submit
my mind into this conduit
emphasize the limit
exit exit exist and exit
mitten kitten cretin cunt
hey man won't you
please
pass
the blunt?

2008-02-05T22:18:00.000-08:00

2007-12-16T04:32:00.000-08:00

the day started with chipper hellos

catching the audience off guard with the upbeat

and the teeth never seen

she said it was the chocolate, but maybe it was more

and she spent the day recalling past

heroin(es)

drawing their old bravery on looping receipt tape

"jesus is on my side today" she said.

and that i was apt to believe

until the kidnapper van came up from the ground

confronting the feeling head on, of new faith, new hope

as a crowd of aliens peered a far from the sidewalk without a word

they watched the vision crash to the floor

salt water

i'm breaking out into hives again, mom

lucifer drove away with eyes turned away

"jesus makes a bad goalie" she said

and this i know is true

2007-12-04T23:15:00.000-08:00

sleeepy but not sleepy

white rabbit fell into
a hole, thought she would find
the carrot that is
whole
only to find
it
h
ad b}.een used!
?had been had!
had been partially
devoured
by the badger
. . . 3 steps ahead

pitter patter the rain sounds like bullets
am i
g
oing
to.) bleed
all
over
my new dress

rabbit knows its bad
rabbit knows this case is mad
mad yet sad
(.but
rrrrrrr
eckon it's not just a fad
that she's fucking the lad
with the V not the P
but rabbit o rabbit
i believe
you will be okay someday