My own room

made a studio today. for painting and writing and drawing and smoking while doing all those things. i have the intranet down here in the garage. guy was impressed. he said, "i don't know, i didn't expect it...to be this cool. i mean...it's a whole room!"

besides voracious cleaning, there was stockpiling of boxes like for the flatscreen tv and the kitchen chairs. i made a fake wall with upholstery remnants hanging ceiling to floor. i pulled out some of my favorite art. old stuff. got to see my paintings again, some of which i really like. not so much a surprise that the subject matter is largely rock star portraiture.



see the reproduction, above, of patrick nagel's "Rio," the record cover for duran duran. the date on it reads 6.85. one of my first graphic pieces. ha.

sitting in this room is a wonderful reclamation of my wild, single days when i spent all my time in my loft smoking pot, listening to music and making stuff. yay.

Frank Black Francis

except for:
1. brackish boy
2. whatever happened to pong?
3. big red


best songs off Bluefinger
1. captain pasty
2. tight black rubber
3. threshold apprehension

Indy!

Nude

wow! on so many levels!!

(thanks to T)

Wee Wee Wee Little Poem

my friend E's got me thinking about poetry. i told him about my number one favorite poem, The World is a Beautiful Place by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, which my friend M showed me in 10th grade. but the second favorite surprises people. i have no idea where i first read it, but i know it's not something you come by often. i memorized it 22 years ago (writing teacher's class?) because of it's petite size. i have not ever looked it up or anything so if you know it and it's wrong somewhere, i apologize. ok.

Wee Wee Wee Little Poem
by jack kerouac

wee wee wee little poem
wee wee wee not-worth-reading little poem

you start off suckin' in milk
and you end up suckin' smoke

and you know what milk and smoke denote.

(third favorite poem, and fourth and fifth.)

animals killed in the road

[there used to be a picture here based on the subject matter. sorry if anyone feels like i assualted them with it.]

intolerable: dead animals in the road. there are so many in marin county. if i see anything resembling a dead animal on the road, i look only enough to not hit it again. on my way to napa last weekend, i saw five. including what looked like a deer. i vaguely saw what looked like a grisly decapitation of a large rodent-type animal. that scene from watership down plays in my head. where animals in the forest are suddenly unable to travel, because each way they turn there's a road with roaring nightmarish automobiles intermittently and indeterminably burning paths through their backyards.

that day to napa, i was reminded of a bad scene in my life. my sisters, mom and i were in our turquoise dodge dart headed to sunday school and church one morning in 1986. we saw a black shape in the middle of the road ahead. i thought it was the neighbors' terrier. it wasn't. it was my cat, spaz, mother of Ed, my best friend at the time. we drove a small circle around the shape and saw it was her. i started screaming out, AHHHH! AHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! i hyperventilated. my mom yelled, "STOP IT RIGHT NOW! CALM DOWN! CALM DOWN!" my sisters sat bug-eyed and silent. stop, PLEASE STOP! i begged her. she wouldn't. instead, she drove us to church and called my dad to remove spaz from the road. i was left to sit in a sunday school class of one. on this particular sunday i just let the southern baptist bullshit wash over me. towards my face, over my head, and gone. there was no fight in me that day.

it is very very difficult to not loathe people. hate them. feel ashamed to be one of them. nasty, vile creatures we are.

Laughter Nuggets

merlin mann's twitter posts are little laughter nuggets knocked out in 140 characters or less. this one especially:

I used to think peeling out sounded kinda cool. Now, I think it sounds like "I need to find a medication that'll make me feel less sad."

this one too:

Mr. Young, where are the salutes To Those Who've Just Recently Finished Rocking? Where's THEIR parade, sir? Shame on you, sir. Shame.

and:
Sometimes when I talk to a Windows person about using a Mac, I feel like I'm explaining Van Halen to a horse.

his newest creation, an audio-based journal of "Emotional Hygiene."

these shoes are made for...

my two favorite pairs of shoes of all time are made by Prada – one pair of calf-high boots and one pair of the most perfect mary janes ever made. they fit my feet like they're custom-made. narrow and long with a perfectly-shaped insole. i adore them.

i don't adore these. i think they scare me. i think they might do something to me if i look at them too long. like the little black dots i've got on my eyeball from looking at that eclipse in san diego.

Meeting James...Again

this new life of spider combat in my convertible, healthy eating and book readings is really appealing to me.

went to see james frey read today. actually, i didn't see him read because i was reading along with him, at his suggestion, in my newly purchased Bright Shiny Morning. it's really fat. i think it might be "sprawling." it's about LA, it's sprawling, i'm thinking about raymond carver and Short Cuts. LOVE.

the marin audience. wow. how annoying. HATE. i was kind of embarrassed to be with them. every person there had a precision haircut and rich-person skin. except for the little wall-eyed lady standing behind me in the signing line. i won't choose a marin reading over a city one next time. i prefer standing in freezing wind in a mini-skirt for 45 minutes over straining to hear a reading while babies squall and people shift in their squeaky seats while asking questions like "what's your relationship with the tao te ching?" one small, older lady raised her hand. he called on her. she said, "i want you to know your book made me sober when i read it a year ago." he smiled his sideways smile and looked uncomfortable, didn't say anything, and the audience erupted in applause. i felt like i was in an AA meeting. who wants to be at an AA meeting? nobody.

unlike meeting augusten, i was only a little bit nervous meeting james. i've met him before, so it was easier. my voice came out weird anyway, and i sounded retarded...he asked me, do you want me to say anything? as he prepared to sign. i suddenly felt like how could i ask for more, but it came out, "no. you've said so much already." there was silence then. i felt my moment slipping away like it did with augusten. i became aware that i could lose it forver, so i started. "i have to tell you...My Friend Leonard, affected me emotionally more than any other book ever has. he looked up. "bawling," i told him. "bawling. it was amazing," he listened blank-faced, maybe suspicious, i went on, "when i get a reaction like that to something i've written it's very satisfying." he looked down, you're a writer. "yes." what do you write? "non-fiction. observations." are you published? "not yet," i said. will you? "someday, yes, most likely." well, i'll give you my email, if you need help when the time comes, write me. "oh, ok."" the offer really surprised me, he sounded genuine.

he's my peer. we're the same age....why do i think about that a lot, i don't know.

i didn't look at my inscription until i got to the car. it reads, Lou. You've got a beautiful smile have a beautiful life. james frey. it sounded familiar to me. i recalled the first meeting and not knowing what to tell him to write then too. when i got home i pulled My Friend Leonard off the shelf. yep. you're a beautiful girl have a beautiful life. james frey.

huh. i go to these readings to see if the people are real. to know. but i can't read james. and not because he lied about his book. because his face never changes. what is that guy really thinking?! i can't tell if he's real or not.

i really want him to be.

Righting wrongs

wept tears of joy like i witnessed justice...or something. i don't know. very emotional reaction. very very...relieved. a pressure has been taken off. something wrong was happening, and now that's changed. or starting to change.