Last night i dreamt of a spider killing a chicken... it was huge, horrid, brownish-yellow spider and the chicken was someone's pet who was returning home for the evening. It flapped up to the person's bedroom windowsill, and the spider saw its chance and sunk its fangs into the chicken's right leg. The poor thing flapped and then fell, slowly, [as if in a dream] to the ground below. It was pitch night, and we were on a farm. i just happened to be smoking a cigarette outside and watched, horrified, as the whole thing unfolded. The chicken floated downwards and the spider fell with it. As i watched, the spider turned into a froglike creature with iridescent blue and green hind legs. When they hit the pine-needle-covered earth, the spider/frog creature dug in, tearing great big chunks of flesh from the chicken's legs. i couldn't watch anymore, so i turned back to the house.
There were five or six small boys there, all playing with matches. They lined up to show me their amazing and daring feats... the first (and smallest) boy bowed his head and concentrated intently on lighting his match. Once ablaze, he watched it burn, holding the match below (and dangerously close to) his face. i started, and pulled his hand away from his head. Never hold a match like that! i yelled at him. He looked upset, and i showed him how to light it away from his body, and hold it aloft so that he could view the flame safely.
Weird, eh? (To say the least).
Tuesday, October 26
Tuesday, October 12
"Saskia!"
We had a near-miss with an asteroid just hours ago. i didn't realize how close it was going to be! 46,000 kilometers... practically felt that thing flying by my ear. Here's a nice little article about it. Nice to be reminded that we're all on a rough blue marble spinning in forever.
On that note, y'all should really see The Vanishing. Don't go look it up, i don't want any plot points being ruined. And make sure you watch the original (1983) Dutch version. It's such a great movie, overall. i thought about it for days afterward... would just find myself unable to sleep, thinking about the final scene, and of all the wonderful foreshadowing during the rest. It's creepy, slow, and unsettling, but it also makes you think. Maybe it's just me, but this film had a powerful hold on my brain for a week or two there. It is an excellent portrayal of human strength, and fragility.
Hope you enjoy.
On that note, y'all should really see The Vanishing. Don't go look it up, i don't want any plot points being ruined. And make sure you watch the original (1983) Dutch version. It's such a great movie, overall. i thought about it for days afterward... would just find myself unable to sleep, thinking about the final scene, and of all the wonderful foreshadowing during the rest. It's creepy, slow, and unsettling, but it also makes you think. Maybe it's just me, but this film had a powerful hold on my brain for a week or two there. It is an excellent portrayal of human strength, and fragility.
Hope you enjoy.
Tuesday, October 5
echo,
echo.
Intense, how time flies when you're doing... not much at all.
Once my sister and i were outside during a thunderstorm and a bolt of lightning struck the ground on our neighbor's land across the road. i watched as her long blonde hair began to stand on end. Outside, on the porch, our spider orchid has debuted its first gorgeous bloom, honeydew and chocolate-hued. i think i am only truly happy when the ground is wet, the wind is mischievous, the cold is reddening my face, and the air smells of leaves and smoke. My favorite color for flowers is orange, though i can't stand that color much in other respects. i love birds and long, intricate movie intros. The smell of rosin in a violin (or viola) case gives me a thrill. i hate it when i throw something into the garbage and it misses. For some reason i am often afraid of the ceiling crashing down on me (especially while i'm in bed). Plain cones are the best for ice cream.
To be fair, i did go on a journey in September, but i didn't paint any houses nor did i go inner-tubing down a river. Harrumph. Next time, next time. Always next time.
Nat and i are now entering Week Two of Quitting Smoking: Round 508. i've had more than a couple of friends sort of scoff at this revelation, as if to say, i'll believe it when i see it. And while i suppose i understand the emotions behind their response, i would just like to say this: Please, if you know anyone who is having a difficult time quitting smoking, or eating better, or being more assertive, or whatever it is that's holding them back from a better life, please just support them. Don't make light of their past failures. We know it is on us, we don't need to be shamed for it. Guilt is not usually a huge transformer of people, at least not in my humble opinion.
Thank you, that is all.
Hope everyone is having a smashing October so far. It is, after all, the best month. ;) And remember, time flies.
(this man is my hero.)
Intense, how time flies when you're doing... not much at all.
Once my sister and i were outside during a thunderstorm and a bolt of lightning struck the ground on our neighbor's land across the road. i watched as her long blonde hair began to stand on end. Outside, on the porch, our spider orchid has debuted its first gorgeous bloom, honeydew and chocolate-hued. i think i am only truly happy when the ground is wet, the wind is mischievous, the cold is reddening my face, and the air smells of leaves and smoke. My favorite color for flowers is orange, though i can't stand that color much in other respects. i love birds and long, intricate movie intros. The smell of rosin in a violin (or viola) case gives me a thrill. i hate it when i throw something into the garbage and it misses. For some reason i am often afraid of the ceiling crashing down on me (especially while i'm in bed). Plain cones are the best for ice cream.
To be fair, i did go on a journey in September, but i didn't paint any houses nor did i go inner-tubing down a river. Harrumph. Next time, next time. Always next time.
Nat and i are now entering Week Two of Quitting Smoking: Round 508. i've had more than a couple of friends sort of scoff at this revelation, as if to say, i'll believe it when i see it. And while i suppose i understand the emotions behind their response, i would just like to say this: Please, if you know anyone who is having a difficult time quitting smoking, or eating better, or being more assertive, or whatever it is that's holding them back from a better life, please just support them. Don't make light of their past failures. We know it is on us, we don't need to be shamed for it. Guilt is not usually a huge transformer of people, at least not in my humble opinion.
Thank you, that is all.
Hope everyone is having a smashing October so far. It is, after all, the best month. ;) And remember, time flies.
(this man is my hero.)
Wednesday, September 1
So long, entire month.
Wow. What happened to August?
Nat's prospectus, that's what. He's been nose-to-the-grindstone (aka the Mac) for weeks now, finishing the dang thing up. This translated to zero computer time for me, which is probably a good thing.
(What did i get done, you ask? Oh, you know: absolutely nothing of any importance.)
Going on a trip tomorrow, and i've been sick for days. Nothing like traveling while you're headachy and nauseous! Add to that an extreme case of nerves due to flying by myself for the first time in 11 years, and you've got a gay old time, indeed.
Things i am doing and plan on doing while away:
~Painting 'the house up North' (my dad's house in Montana). This is the main reason for this whole trip in the first place. Let's just hope that scaffolding holds...
~Innertubing down a river, also somewhere up North (big sister, you promised!).
~Watching loads of Top Chef episodes that my brother so lovingly recorded for me (because everybody watches TV in Las Vegas. At least i do.).
~Hitting up the chairlift on Big Mountain again. This time i will try and get my mom to take some photos with her digital camera, so you will all have the beautiful, glorious proof.
~Finding (and patronizing) the oxygen bar at McCarran International Airport (Las Vegas). File this one under "trying new things before you die".
~Keeping an eye out for a modest (read: nothin' but coverage) bathing suit for our trip to Hawaii in November. Yes, this is the year of trips, apparently. Will talk more about this later.
Catch you on the flipside, folks.
Until then, here are some nouns that are also adjectives.
august
pacific
buffalo (buffalo buffalo buffalo, and so on, forever.)
...Toodles!
Nat's prospectus, that's what. He's been nose-to-the-grindstone (aka the Mac) for weeks now, finishing the dang thing up. This translated to zero computer time for me, which is probably a good thing.
(What did i get done, you ask? Oh, you know: absolutely nothing of any importance.)
Going on a trip tomorrow, and i've been sick for days. Nothing like traveling while you're headachy and nauseous! Add to that an extreme case of nerves due to flying by myself for the first time in 11 years, and you've got a gay old time, indeed.
Things i am doing and plan on doing while away:
~Painting 'the house up North' (my dad's house in Montana). This is the main reason for this whole trip in the first place. Let's just hope that scaffolding holds...
~Innertubing down a river, also somewhere up North (big sister, you promised!).
~Watching loads of Top Chef episodes that my brother so lovingly recorded for me (because everybody watches TV in Las Vegas. At least i do.).
~Hitting up the chairlift on Big Mountain again. This time i will try and get my mom to take some photos with her digital camera, so you will all have the beautiful, glorious proof.
~Finding (and patronizing) the oxygen bar at McCarran International Airport (Las Vegas). File this one under "trying new things before you die".
~Keeping an eye out for a modest (read: nothin' but coverage) bathing suit for our trip to Hawaii in November. Yes, this is the year of trips, apparently. Will talk more about this later.
Catch you on the flipside, folks.
Until then, here are some nouns that are also adjectives.
august
pacific
buffalo (buffalo buffalo buffalo, and so on, forever.)
...Toodles!
Saturday, July 31
lost and found.
Many thanks to Millie and Wayne, an older couple who originally hail from Long Island (say it with an accent, please) but have lived here in San Diego for some forty years. They saved our butts on Thursday night when we were lost in the hills. Our local transportation authority's website had instructed us to walk "east" for about a mile upon exiting our trolley, which ended up leading us right to an impassable canyon after about four blocks. Distraught, and late for a concert, Nat hailed a car exiting a driveway. (This was a very cloistered neighborhood; not a soul walking about for miles, it seemed, that we could ask for directions.) The woman driver hesitantly rolled down her window and i watched from afar as he ran through every confused facial expression in his repertoire, asking if there was a way through to 3rd Avenue. Finally, he waved me over.
Turns out that unless we could fly, we were stuck. Our directions had neglected to impart some pretty important information regarding the topography of the region surrounding the Middletown Trolley Station. Cretins.
So what happened next? They demanded to give us a ride. Insisting that it was no problem, and that they were merely "on [their] way out for a hamburger", we were ushered into the vehicle. Sweaty and grateful, we were whisked to our destination over hill, over dale. Wayne thought that we were from England (why does this happen constantly?!), to which our only response was that we both had an English parent. i blame Nat's extremely proper enunciation under times of stress. Millie later told us that if i hadn't been carrying flowers, she probably would have just screeched right past us. (Apparently, "you just never know" in this day and age.) i told them to come and visit me some time at the flower shop if they were ever in the area. i honestly hope to see them again. . . thanks, Millie and Wayne! You two really helped revive my good feelings toward the human race.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As for the show, it was okay. Not sure if Joanna Newsom's latest album really lends itself to the concert circuit; perhaps if there had been tables and chairs, cocktails and candles. . . but standing crowded in a hot room with other people who are having a hard time grooving to the lengthy, strangely-syncopated tunes, it was a bit rough. Milk-Eyed Mender would have been a great tour (in fact, we did see her then, in a dark smoky bar, before we even knew who she really was), and we did get to hear one song from those old, melodic days ("Peach, Plum, Pear", which, incidentally, is one of my all-time faves). Unfortunately, we arrived late just as Robin Pecknold (of Fleet Foxes fame) was finishing up his opening set. Pretty sure that would have been the better performance, partly because Joanna's drummer was set too loud on volume and he even managed to sing over her at points.
Mostly i would argue that her more complicated songs are best left to the studio. i was surprised to find that my favorite performances of hers that night were a couple of songs that i'd barely noticed on the album: "Go Long" and "Baby Birch". i was completely transported by them, whereas the more familiar, jaunty hits ("Easy", "Good Intentions Paving Co.") were lacking the punch that i had come to rely on. And Joanna on piano is wonderful, but watching the light catch on her humming harpstrings was still as fascinating as always. If you have patience and a light heart, you'll enjoy the show (and, obviously, the albums). Have One on Me was by far the most difficult album of hers for me to get into. While not necessarily an album full of gems, almost every song has its few seconds of brilliant joy. It just might take you a bit longer to wind your way through to them.
"Baby Birch" was melancholy-sweet and symphonic (sorry for the poorish sound on this):
and "Soft as Chalk" was very enjoyable:
As always, you are free to harbor nothing but disdain for this music.
(Kinda like me with Phil Collins, or Dave Matthews.)
It's absolutely up to you. But i encourage everyone to at least give it a shot. She takes a few tries, but in the end it is like having access to some kind of magical auditory respite.
Turns out that unless we could fly, we were stuck. Our directions had neglected to impart some pretty important information regarding the topography of the region surrounding the Middletown Trolley Station. Cretins.
So what happened next? They demanded to give us a ride. Insisting that it was no problem, and that they were merely "on [their] way out for a hamburger", we were ushered into the vehicle. Sweaty and grateful, we were whisked to our destination over hill, over dale. Wayne thought that we were from England (why does this happen constantly?!), to which our only response was that we both had an English parent. i blame Nat's extremely proper enunciation under times of stress. Millie later told us that if i hadn't been carrying flowers, she probably would have just screeched right past us. (Apparently, "you just never know" in this day and age.) i told them to come and visit me some time at the flower shop if they were ever in the area. i honestly hope to see them again. . . thanks, Millie and Wayne! You two really helped revive my good feelings toward the human race.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As for the show, it was okay. Not sure if Joanna Newsom's latest album really lends itself to the concert circuit; perhaps if there had been tables and chairs, cocktails and candles. . . but standing crowded in a hot room with other people who are having a hard time grooving to the lengthy, strangely-syncopated tunes, it was a bit rough. Milk-Eyed Mender would have been a great tour (in fact, we did see her then, in a dark smoky bar, before we even knew who she really was), and we did get to hear one song from those old, melodic days ("Peach, Plum, Pear", which, incidentally, is one of my all-time faves). Unfortunately, we arrived late just as Robin Pecknold (of Fleet Foxes fame) was finishing up his opening set. Pretty sure that would have been the better performance, partly because Joanna's drummer was set too loud on volume and he even managed to sing over her at points.
Mostly i would argue that her more complicated songs are best left to the studio. i was surprised to find that my favorite performances of hers that night were a couple of songs that i'd barely noticed on the album: "Go Long" and "Baby Birch". i was completely transported by them, whereas the more familiar, jaunty hits ("Easy", "Good Intentions Paving Co.") were lacking the punch that i had come to rely on. And Joanna on piano is wonderful, but watching the light catch on her humming harpstrings was still as fascinating as always. If you have patience and a light heart, you'll enjoy the show (and, obviously, the albums). Have One on Me was by far the most difficult album of hers for me to get into. While not necessarily an album full of gems, almost every song has its few seconds of brilliant joy. It just might take you a bit longer to wind your way through to them.
"Baby Birch" was melancholy-sweet and symphonic (sorry for the poorish sound on this):
and "Soft as Chalk" was very enjoyable:
As always, you are free to harbor nothing but disdain for this music.
(Kinda like me with Phil Collins, or Dave Matthews.)
It's absolutely up to you. But i encourage everyone to at least give it a shot. She takes a few tries, but in the end it is like having access to some kind of magical auditory respite.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
