28 November 2010

sleep glutton.

sweet seductive sleepy sleep.

23 November 2010

Work in progress

I have been attempting more creative writing lately. I will post the works in progress here.

Fall is always the worst. & I used to like it the best. Out of all the other seasons. Now I realize that I am surrounded by death wherever I go. Dramatics. The corpses of former tree tresses lie; fallen soldiers next to former friends; yellow and brittle.

In the distance, a motorized and mechanized vehicle echoes throughout my little forest shelter. Sounds of jack-hammering or cement-mixing or whatevering interrupt the leaf rustling, deeply affecting my mood. These sounds mimic the actions of my heart: burying, pilfering, digging, laying down a new foundation.

A grand tree stands in front of me, proud and at ease. A yawning mouth of a knot blemishes the otherwise remarkable bark. Wooden arms jut out with fingers outstretched. Hard green bristles poke out of its skin, varying in color; the leaves mimic the colors of the earth: green, brown, yellow. A punk rock color combination of tree hair. Extending farther into the sky, I look upward into the grey and cloudless sky. Dull. Vast but colorless, a reflection of my insides. I'm here but not here. Form but formless. I wish I could evaporate into the ether of the sky and float away from the muddy ground sprinkled with yellowed bodies. The bodies shed from the trees when no longer needed. Cast away, shucked, discarded. Away.

09 January 2010

i was confronted tonight by a very educated young man who had NO IDEA what "post-punk" referred to or who/what joy division was.

this is dedicated to him.

and for good measure, some new order:


07 January 2010

the hair will get bigger, baby!

and, that is my motto for 2010!

i started keeping a "culture" paper journal for the year. more to come in the future!

22 December 2009

lady companions

looking through an old W magazine photo spread of peaches geldolf and daisy lowe, et al, has lead to nostalgia for a time in my life when my girl friends and i would host impromptu photo shoots in graveyards and write and design zines during the long summer days. regardless of what you may think of how these particular girls conduct themselves, i have to admit that the photos are spot-on in capturing their lively zeal.

we all want to be wild, wild beasts with pounding hearts and brash fearlessness.

voda&etymology is love

i have a newly discovered love of etymology, which isn't surprising considering my long love affair with words & language. discovering the roots of my beloved words seems like the next logical step.

what better word to start with than "vodka" aka "little water"? what could be a cuter root than that?!

"The name "vodka" is a diminutive form of the Russian word voda (water), interpreted as little water: root вод- (vod-) [water] + -к- (-k-) [ diminutive suffix, among other functions]) + -a [ postfix of feminine gender ].

Another possible connection of "vodka" with "water" is the name of the medieval alcoholic beverage aqua vitae (Latin, literally, "water of life"), which is reflected in Polish "okowita", Ukrainian оковита, or Belarusian акавіта. (Note that whisky has a similar etymology, from the Irish/Scottish Gaelic uisce beatha/uisge-beatha.)

People in the area of vodka's probable origin have names for vodka with roots meaning "to burn": Polish: gorzała; Ukrainian: горілка, horilka; Belarusian: гарэлка, harelka; Slavic: arielka; Lithuanian: degtinė; Samogitian: degtėnė, is also in use, colloquially and in proverbs[8]); Latvian: degvīns; Finnish: paloviina. In Russian during 17th and 18th century горящее вино (goryashchee vino, "burning wine") was widely used. Compare to Danish; brændevin; Dutch: brandewijn; Swedish: brännvin; Norwegian: brennevin (although the latter terms refer to any strong alcoholic beverage)."

p.s. i have to be honest and admit that this post was inspired by a particularly gruesome episode of "CSI."

21 December 2009

why low rent life?

why low rent life?

low rent life because i find myself constantly straddling between an acceptable/mainstream/ambitious existence & an existence that’s lived in smoky bars, dark hallways, and abandoned buildings.

low rent life because i still have the urge to throw off everything for the sake of rock’n'roll.

low rent life because sometimes there is nothing better than black eyeliner, jameson, and judas priest.

low rent life because there has to be overlap between the 9 to 5 & the 2 am-stumbling-at-last-call.

low rent life because there are no sweeter words to describe my admiration for those that have lived their lives in the margins for the sake of art & are all the better for it