FUCK WORDPRESS UP THE ASSHOLE

Self-portrait of a happy me

Bliss can overflow from one to another

tickling noses and pin-pricking.

Bliss laughs it’s way around a room

making giddy little knots all over

that can only ever be giggled,

stretched, hugged or smooched out.

Bliss can lead you astray from dogged

drudgery painting a path in your life.

Bliss waits for no-one and beckons

by tugging your shirt-collar incessantly

pulling toward your inner magnificence,

bright, shiny, and full of dreams.

Bliss wants what’s best for the world

and what’s best for the earth is you.

bliss knows best and bliss knows true

the deepest and holiest place inside

that beats fiercely for happiness,

I just spent 45 minutes trying to post a poem on this website, on my blog and my poem was about bliss and I was in such a great mood… not anymore!

I am a raging tempest filled with fury at this idiotic excuse for a blog. I want to kill wordpress and seriously SLAP whoever recommended to me that I start a blog here… I’m MOVING!

FUCK YOU WORDPRESS. FUCK YOU UP THE INTERWEB-ASSHOLE!
BILE!

The problem here is that, largely, it’s formatting SUCKS! EVIL BAD FORMATTING. Almost impossible to copy/paste and have it come out anything like what it was in FOUR different word processors. SCREW YOU WORDPRESS!

Over.Earth.Under.Sky

The ceiling in the elevator to my cave in the sky... my old studio above Berbati's Pan

I write of love that was deeper than the space between stars

and as unreachable.

White hot and luminescent, glittering eternally

too bright to hold.

Still, it was my guiding light, my constant joy and sorrow

kept so close.

A bird pressed to firm against a beating heart, even in love

will die.

A lover held too tight must stretch, lest they claw your heart

from your chest.

I’ve felt the rip of too many bleeding beats keeping time

as daggers.

I’ve patched up one too many tears from leaking tears

in my footsteps.

My swan’s song carried me far below the crashing waves

to rest.

I dwelt in secret hope and hushed fear to see the sun again

and kept to shadow

To the dark went my desires, my pulsing love and fervency

I slept so long.

Golden rays danced upon my skin one day to love again

and pray.

Bright as it is enticing to jump from the earth to heaven

up high.

I braced myself and let the sky smile from above

to me below.

We met somewhere on the horizon between here and there

dusk and dawn.

And I will swim with you over the earth and under sky

to everywhere in between.

A Friendly Wager…

I currently have a bet going on amongst 9 of my friends and I. It was my boyfriend’s idea and after discussing it with our compatriots at the Night Light (one of our favorite hang outs in Portland) we ironed out all the little details and settled on this:
Each of us is to pick what we think is the very worst movie we can find. So as to avoid things like 6 hour student films following the life of microbes, we limited it to movies that can be found inside a Blockbuster store- not online, a physical store, in the Portland area.
Each participant bets a whole ten dollars on their movie, the lucky winner gets a whopping jackpot of $100!

One might ask, what defines the worst movie? Obviously not any B (or even C) horror films like Bog Creatures, these have proven entertainment value- at least you can laugh at them, right? We’re talking about true mediocrity here, the  movies that put you right to sleep (although, that could be a good thing if you’re an insomniac), the movies that make you shrug your shoulders in cold, cold indifference that make you think, “Who is responsible for this piece of shit, this complete waste of resources? I’d rather stare at my popcorn ceiling for two hours than ever again watch this tripe!”  That kind of movie.

The next problem was, how to watch so many horrible movies without becoming biased? We figured we’d first give everyone two weeks to pick their movie, during which time, nobody is allowed to discuss their choice. Afterward, we’ll get together and watch two movies a week over the next five weeks. That way, we don’t have to watch more than one monstrosity a night. After we watch each movie, we’ll vote independently. No-one is allowed to vote for the film they selected.
At the end of the very last movie, we’ll all probably get together, view the results and get some drinks.

Also, we’ll be rating each one on a 1-10 scale.

This evening I watched Kevin Costner’s truly epic movie, The Postman, for the very first time. Honestly, there were a couple moments when I seriously considered picking it as my entry into our friendly little bet. Unfortunately, we’d probably have too good a time making fun of it, thus nixing it from my list of possibilities… Ce’st la vie!

bad.seeds

Right-O.
There are some people, that no matter how much you love them, disappoint you every time. I try and try so hard, I think, “Well, I do believe I got rid of my last expectations of said person. No WAY I’ll be upset again because of expectations not being met. I expect nothing and will only be happy when they’re around because without any expectations, I can’t be disappointed, right? Right!” and then out of nowhere I’m sad again.
There are some people who will always disappoint… When they’re not surprising you delightfully with unexpected little nuggets of their golden personality.

Still, so sad.

I don’t think it’s healthy to NOT expect anything from anyone. I feel that in doing so, I’m giving up on some sacred hope in humanity that I’m not ready to let go of, just yet. I think that sometimes people should be expected to be steadfast. I feel in not expecting anything of others, that you’re dishonoring them, because, well… I just do.

I feel good when people tell me they know they can rely on me for such and such. I feel good when people come over to my house for dinner and expect a delicious meal. I feel that when someone expects something of you, it’s a good thing, because it shows a strength in character that has already been proven. I would not like to be a blank slate all of the time. I want to play host to other’s expectations of me and sometimes fail, in the knowledge that doing so has given me room to grow.

But if there’s nothing there but room to grow, than what is there, really? A seed that doesn’t start is no good at all. A seed that doesn’t start disintegrates into dirt when planted, all the sunshine and water in the world won’t make a bad seed grow.

My growth may be choppy, I might have stunted in the frost and not borne as much fruit as one would hope… But I still stretch for that sunshine and soak in the rain.

I don’t want to cry over spent seeds anymore, I’d really like to watch my flowers grow.

Russet Smoothie

Life’s been running like a roller-coaster lately; hard, fast, topsy-turvey and steel everywhere. I’m on some sort of Mr. Toad’s wild ride where the turns come so quick, I can’t tell what’s around the bend but it doesn’t stop it from coming… not by a long shot.
I feel as though I’m finally starting to come into my own, like the Universe said, “Well guys, she’s ready. Let’s throw her some LIFE!” and BLAMMO!

It’s been a long time since, I’ve been this happy with my life, my creativity, my friends and this whole crazy nutshell kind of world…
On a side note: I am making smoothies and they are SO incredibly delicious!

A couple of my favorite people, Happy and Maquette are getting married on July 4th; they’re having a Victorian Steampunk wedding… How cool is that? I’m still trying to figure out what in the world I’m going to wear, I’m sure I’ll think of something just right. They are the first of my good friends to get married and I am so excited for them! It’s also (obviously) got all kinds of thoughts swimming around in my head like, “What kind of wedding would I like to have someday?” and “Am I really such a silly girl as all that?”

Turns out, I am. I am just as silly, goofy, romantic, tee-hee-hee as the rest of them. Also bad-ass. Always also bad-ass, but I suppose that doesn’t come out as much when is mushy girlie situations.

I’m going to go eat my delicious lunch now: Hefeweisen pork sausage with grilled onions, sauerkraut, horseradish (I am a good Rusyn girl) and grilled rosemary russet potatoes…. and peach, berry, banana SMOOTHIE!

To Be Home Again, So Soft In My Bed

06/25/09

I arrived in Eugene the morning before last, driven down from Portland by a gregarious photographer named, Van. Seemingly appropriate, I appropriated a ride from Van on Craigslist… gotta love that rideshare. We talked the two hours down in amicable discussion and am pleased to report that I got my first paid photo-shoot ever… Thanks Van!

We turned onto Nectar Way, pulled into a long driveway and met Mr. Michel Savage of Grey Forest– who has requisitioned me to model for this Sci-Fi project he’s working on called, Hellbot. His studio is cozy, the grounds are green forests and I almost expect to see precocious little faeriebugs peeking above every leaf and zipping through the branches. I was rather apprehensive about posing nude so he could transform me into some faerie or other, but relaxed into the process… kinda? I believe I’ll be either a red pixie sprite or some sort of dryad by the time I’m done. I felt a little awkward posing, not that I’m all that self-conscious or anything… It’s just that I went to a tanning booth to even out my tan lines for the shoot…
The first time went fine, everything was a little smoother. The second time (two days later) wasn’t so fortunate, I came out of the booth pleased with my 14 minutes of radiant meditation, pleased as pink to be traveling the next day for a photoshoot… Until I sat down a couple hours later and realized that my bum was a little ouch. One glance in the mirror revealed a bottom as rosy red as a baboons’ ass! It looked like I’d been a very naughty girl and someone had spanked me magenta with a large paddle… Not so great for the happy frolicking faerie.
That was my inspiration for a fire pixie, I thought maybe he can just turn all of me red; a crimson pixie with a pissed off attitude who is in no mood for more spankings! After photoshoot (he’ll “paint” them later, the pictures are for reference) and dinner, we took a dip in the hot-tub which further (momentarily) inflamed my already bright buttocks. We watched, Silent Hill which was an interesting horror movie, I found out from my friend, Alain the next day that it was adapted from a video game.

In the morning I had a bagel, soaked in the hot-tub and got some more reading done. I’m reading Atlas Shrugged and I’m not sure that it’s nearly as bad as my best friend thinks it is, but we’re all entitled to our own opinions. On the other hand, I am not yet half-way through, so there is plenty of time for me to become frustrated to the point of pelting the book across the room when I finish (like Tabitha).
Day two involved shooting for the Sci-Fi project he’s working on called, Hellbot. It’s about some scavenger chick flying through the universe in the hunk o’ junk spaceship her daddy gave her. She hears rumors of a belly-up settlement planet who’s terraforming went berserk and turned the whole thing to dust… er… sand, like Arrakis, Tattoine, the Sahara… desert. So she hops out of her ship and goes searching for sweet, sweet H2O.
Through unfortunate circumstance she’s knocked out and left stranded in the middle of the desert, far away from her ship and without her guns, or any scrap of clothing. Our naked heroine journeys across the sand-dunes, finds an abandoned building and a scrap of fabric that she secures around her person, meets a friendly droid and sees some weird shit… To be continued.
So, the goal here was getting some epic shots that he can later super-impose against a desert background and make me look all bad-ass sci-fi babe looking for a little clothed comfort.

I ate salad, watched some Jim Henson’s Storyteller stories and generally chilled out the rest of the day, in anticipation of getting to see some sweet pictures once they’re all colored-me-pretty. Now we’re off to do a little photoshoot for a local jeweler in Eugene, meet up with my ride and head on out!

by: Michel Savage

In closing, I would like to state that I miss my boyfriend more than I thought I would and am super-stoked to see him again on Sunday night so we can cuddle up all sweet and happy… mmmmmm happy cuddletime!
Also, I kinda miss the little doggy pooches with whom I live. Oscar and Willie may be very silly dogs, but they are sweet and I would very much like to take them on a long walk.

My Lonely Invisible Dream

Yesterday was really rough… I’m not sure why exactly, I mean, I suppose I have my reasons but my reasons make me feel like I’m self-centered or wallowing in my own little self-pity party. But I suppose everyone needs the allowance of understanding sometimes, even from oneself.

I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately, disappointed in my friends. I found a guy (G) and it was a nice transition with minimal “No, I can’t do that tonights.” It seems that without really doing anything myself, I’ve been labeled by my friends as… In boyfriend land. Which has resulted in so many less invitations to go do stuff. Now, I do spend a fair amount of time with the G, but not enough to warrant being brushed off by those dear to me. It makes me really sad and I spent so much of yesterday on the verge of tears alone in my house while my G was at work and I felt so ignored.

I think part of this comes from the fact that I had so very few friends growing up. Being raised by wandering hippies, I didn’t spend a whole year in the same school from 2nd until 8th grade. That’s six years of going to at least 2, sometimes 4 schools a year. I did not have time to make friends. Additionally, I was raised by hippies, always the, “new girl” and relentlessly teased by my classmates. They’d sometimes spend an entire recess chasing me around the schoolyard, calling me names and throwing things at me. I learned to run really fast as a little girl!

Last night I had a bad dream. It started off well enough, battling forces of evil and whatnot- that’s what I usually do in my dreams, save people; this would probably be my Messiah Complex acting up, but that’s a story for another day which probably (coincidentally) coincides with me being picked on all the time growing up.

Anyhoo, I was riding around the park/bar with a my best friend, two other ladies and some guy and we were all talking to eachother… kinda. More like they were all talking and I was being ignored. They’d say something and I’d have a response to contribute and they’d just kinda look at me and then continue on with whatever it was they were talking about. At one point, I had some glorious pearl of a little story that related so well with what they were discussing and I tried to tell them. Every time I’d only get the first sentence out before they’d start talking over me again and I was seemingly invisible.

–Note: Seemingly invisible is bad for a Leo… There are few worse things for such natural borne leaders/gregarious types than to feel completely ignored… Seriously, just about the worst thing ever.

To continue, this happened about four times, me trying to join my friends in conversation and each time, them going on about their business without me. I got exceedingly frustrated, got out of the cart without anybody noticing and went to our favorite bar in the park on this series of patios surrounded by lush greenery. One side of the main patio ended in a wall of lustrous hanging vines with leaves and soft flowers, it was an amazing sight. Cornering the wall of foliage, was a bar that ran the length of the Patio and it seems that we were regulars there. Adjoining the aforementioned patio was a smaller one a couple steps down, with a little table.

The trio, my best friend and some guy got there just behind me, clamored out of the golf-cart looking car-amajig and proceeded to the bar, where there was a photographer waiting for all of us to do a photo-shoot. Well, It turns out I was invisible again because the photographer collected them all up, dressed them in such pretty clothes and started shooting everyone except me. I went up to try and make my presence known but they just gave me dirty looks and ignored me again.

Feeling slighted yet again, I figured I’d just go home when I ran into a friend from my comedy troupe. He was pretty busy, but had the time to chat with me a little on my way off and that helped me feel a little better, but I was till deeply hurt by the mean looks and uncaring behavior of my best friend.

When I woke up this morning I curled up into my lover’s arms and recounted to him my dream. “Looks like your dealing with some friend issues.” I look up, wide-eyed and still a little sleepy, moan a, “yeeeaahh.” and nestled into his warmth again.

With all the acquaintances and friends I’ve made since I got out of high school I sometimes forget that I was a very lonely little girl. She’s still there inside and sometimes she comes out and I spend a day crying for her. Mostly I am writing this so she’ll leave me alone (how ironic) today and I can just sit and paint and be productive without feeling that (unwarranted?) sense of self pity.

So guys and gals, oh friends of mine- I just want to let you know that you’re really important to me and I very much love you…

downtown where the wild bums grow

It’s always colder downtown- I did not realize, until I moved into the sunshine. Downtown is an ever cloudy day grey in the twilight of her years. She’s a bag lady carting around second-rate treasures murmuring sermons, “Could you give me a quarter?”

White hair jerking hands and jittering speech, downtown will tell your future in the bottom of Starbuck’s coffee cups. Downtown will read your past in the stock market and smell your present in the cracks on the side-walk, overflowing with cigarette butts and stale urine.

Grandfather Time measures success in crusted vomit on the side of the street; an executive’s sixth martini. The frat boys drank vodka redbulls last night, but it’s their girlfriend’s kamikazes staining the curb.

I speak of just before dawn and far after sunset, the interim that knows no bounds. Here is in between, the bustle of the business day when all proud Americans are safely locked in their cubicles and corner offices, the urban dirt and decay. Here is the liver after moonlight when all good party boys and pop princesses retire into eachother’s arms to boff the night away.

I see, I say, my friends, what a day!

I have a confession to make: I almost completely forgot about my blog… It has been floating around in the murky waters of my guilty subconcious for the past two months or so. ..

HOLD ON A MINUTE… THIS IS REALLY PISSING ME OFF, let me explain: I have tried many times now to use the apostrophe button on my keyboard and EVERY FUCKING time I touch it, some pain in the ass “quickfind” bar POPS up on the bottom of my window! This is really irritating!

Figures that I remember my blog only to have my experience destroyed by some quirk in modern technology that is supposed to (no doubt) make my life easier.

I do NOT want quickfind. I signed up for no quickfind. Turn off the FUCKING quickfind!!!

As I was saying: Have performances with Cosmic Lee (there is supposed to be an apostraphe here)s Intergalactic Traveling Show.

Have Open Mic Night (Myriad Monday) every monday at ten pm at Bar XV in downtown Portland.

Almost had art show, the owner of Berbati fell ill and his daughter was oh-so-stressed so Tabitha and my art show for June is no more.

Have boy… er… man… er One stupendous GUY! His name is Graham and we have been dating for two months now. As I would really like to NOT jinx this one, I am now shutting up. Be warned, he is AWESOME! … Come to think of it, he is also probably one very large reason that I have not been writing so much as of late. I write less when I am happy. Notice the absence of apostrophies in my oh so correct english.

POOP ON YOU QUICKFIND!

peace,

I am out!

Pack it Up Pack it In Let me Begin…

I have not been living in the luxurious (ha!) Western Rooms apartments for an entire month now.

I almost miss living above the three most fantastic bars in downtown Portland. I really miss my cozy little cave in the sky. I miss my kitchen OH so much, it is packed away in boxes half at one house and half in another. I also miss my wall-hangings and altar, the books, the mass of creativity immediately available to my curious fingers in my little art-nook. I have been staying at a friend’s house and as they are so gracious for letting me use their couch- I have no real complaints.

I’ve been working so hard toward unemployment that the not receiving such and still no job has been pretty brutal on my happy-go-lucky psyche. I was talking to my father in tears over said situation and he says to me, “Are you still on birth-control? I think you should stop that because it is making you overly emotional.” POO on that, I say. I have let my parental unit know that the anti-baby medication really has nothing to do with it. Also, I seem to be dealing with things pretty well, given circumstance and I am absolutely allowed to break down and cry during said time of change…. so take that!

p.s. I did taxes. I will get monies back, which can be used to rent a room in a lovely communal housing arrangement. So, if anybody out there would like to rent a room to this wonderfully qualified (did I mention I love to cook?), vivacious and generally happy-go-lucky person (me!)… both of my friends will be eternally grateful and momentarily indebted to your oh-so-kind soul.