Wednesday, December 22, 2010
JAZZ: a few sketches
JAZZ:
a few sketches
Jazz # 1
Steeped in tradition
curved boatneck behind
a large dark womanly groan
with every slide he
attempts to hide and
shield his heart’s light
from an un-understanding
gaggle of tasteless cadets
and yet his intellect and pride
severs not his light
for his stream of joy (from
the music,
like
his sweat)
is
blessed
with the
essence of
one
whose
love
is
greater
than his pain.
Jazz # 2
…see, they always
look to the left
;
except for a few folks (I’d say fellahs but
I
know at least three ladies who’d ob-
ject)
look in
w
a
r
d
and the groove of the
thing is his
(H
E
R) thing
is the thing is the thing of the
swing.
Even if it don’t got that _________.
Even if it ain’t got that ________.
We can still
___________.
You
listen
ing?
Jazz # 3
the ones I loved the best were the ones who
knew the inner circle of the
blood of life
is covered by and
permeated through
and in and out is the
joy of life
and
ooooh we oooh.
the high priestess calls is
SOUL
and
oooooooooooh weee oooh weee oooh
the Sultan calls it
(whatever he damn well pleases.
He’s the SULTAN.)
I call it divine
and
You call it sublime.
Whatever.
There ain’t no wrong notes in jazz.
a few sketches
Jazz # 1
Steeped in tradition
curved boatneck behind
a large dark womanly groan
with every slide he
attempts to hide and
shield his heart’s light
from an un-understanding
gaggle of tasteless cadets
and yet his intellect and pride
severs not his light
for his stream of joy (from
the music,
like
his sweat)
is
blessed
with the
essence of
one
whose
love
is
greater
than his pain.
Jazz # 2
…see, they always
look to the left
;
except for a few folks (I’d say fellahs but
I
know at least three ladies who’d ob-
ject)
look in
w
a
r
d
and the groove of the
thing is his
(H
E
R) thing
is the thing is the thing of the
swing.
Even if it don’t got that _________.
Even if it ain’t got that ________.
We can still
___________.
You
listen
ing?
Jazz # 3
the ones I loved the best were the ones who
knew the inner circle of the
blood of life
is covered by and
permeated through
and in and out is the
joy of life
and
ooooh we oooh.
the high priestess calls is
SOUL
and
oooooooooooh weee oooh weee oooh
the Sultan calls it
(whatever he damn well pleases.
He’s the SULTAN.)
I call it divine
and
You call it sublime.
Whatever.
There ain’t no wrong notes in jazz.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Eleven Moments
Eleven Moments
by Erin Muir
Monday, 10:15 pm
I walked in my front door, exhausted from a long day of massage. I’ve picked up some extra hours with various mobile spas because, well, because I’ve been broke. Like (negative) -$27.55 in my bank account for four days broke. I’m hoping it helps me lose weight and get leaner muscle tone. (p.s. Just in case. Mom, I’m fine. Just for a few days there I was waiting on a check… see below.)
Anyway, lo and behold, lucky me, there was a check I’d been waiting for. You know, the kind of check that they “say” is coming on the 10th but somehow never arrives until the 13th or 14th? (“But we mailed it on the 7th. Huh. How could that have happened?” I don’t know but I had the SAME thing happen with my car payment! Strange. I’m suuuure I mailed it in time… hmmm…..)
I had a phone call to return to a night owl friend living in New York City and so I decided to talk and walk to the ATM two blocks from my house. It’s on a major urban thoroughfare between two busy restaurants, so for those of you who know about my mugging a year and a half ago, or two years ago, or whenever that was, please don’t get mad. I felt very safe. There were a LOT of people around and only a few of them wore ski masks. JUST KIDDING. It was fine.
When I got to the ATM and went to deposit the check, the ATM informed me that “Funds associated with this check may be held and will not be made available until December 23rd, 2010.”
“That’s ten days away!” I said out loud.
“What?” said my friend on the phone, who was in the middle of telling me a story.
“Oh, nothing, just my bank,” I said.
“Oh,” she responded, and went on with her story. I decided NOT to deposit the check and return to the bank the next morning at 9:00 am to find out what was the scoop. Could I deposit the check AND make my car payment in a timely manner? If not I would find an alternative plan.
Tuesday, Wee Hours
I was dreaming… I dreamed first about a guy I briefly dated coming with me to witness an event during my childhood. The event was at my Grandmother’s house on her lake property. I was about 4. My old flame took me “here now as an adult” into the dream and held my hand, as we watched the even together, and smiled at me and said, “It’s okay.”
Then I dreamed that I had bought this property and was throwing a party there and all these different friends from all different parts of my life came. The old flame was there, and he was playing hide and seek with me the entire time, although it took me a few times of “finding” him to realize that’s what we were doing.
Then I dreamed about my ex boyfriend Mike. I dreamed that he wanted to pay for my voice lessons. He wrote a check out to my voice teacher for $40. I looked at it and thought, “that’s not enough for even half an hour,” but I didn’t say anything.
Then I dreamed of an event that actually occurred again in my real life. Once Mike and I had owned a Cadillac, yes, that famous old Caddy I love to talk about. It was just so pretty and so… big. It was a 1990 Fleetwood and it was all black with tinted windows. His cousin, who owned it before us, had put a Charm of St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, so that it hung from the rear view mirror. One morning Mike and I had to go run errands. We got in the car and I was in the driver’s seat. I looked at that charm and I suddenly knew something bad was going to happen. I asked him to drive and he got pissed off because he had to make business calls and why did HE. ALWAYS. HAVE. TO. BE. THE. ONE. TO. DRIVE. Okay, fine. Anyway, we were running our errands and the day just kept growing grayer and grayer, it was probably November or so in Minnesota, a very gray time. At one point I turned from the parking lot of a store at the end of the block (The Loon Grocery on Lyndale and 25th) and took a right heading toward downtown- there was no traffic going in our direction- and then I got into the left hand turn lane and there was oncoming traffic close enough I figured I would wait and not go, and I put on my turn signal, and suddenly, from behind us, our of nowhere, a car careened and swerved to miss us, swerved to miss oncoming traffic but passed right in front of it, and drove right into a tree, the tree slicing the car down the middle. Why they veered left instead of right? A mystery. After that, Mike drove.
Well I dreamed of that near miss…
Tuesday, 8:15 am
I woke up thinking of that St. Christopher charm.
Tuesday, 9:03 am
Shit! I wanted to be at the bank by 9:00 am and I wanted to walk because I like walking and I was supposed to drive over the hill to Fryman Canyon later to meet a friend for a hike at 10:30 and if I walked now I would be too late. Well, maybe not, but I thought, I know me, if I walk I will dilly dally at Trader Joe’s and Starbucks on the way home and it wall get all last minute-y.
So, feeling very silly about it all but determined, I got in my car and drove the two blocks to my bank.
Tuesday, 9:13 am
I was depositing my check, which went through just fine, and the lady, Halin, was saying that sometimes ATMs just do that stuff, announcing that funds will be held, and who knows why. Okay. Suddenly, it grew quiet (in my head) and this high pitched ringing resounded. Then I heard a groan, the kind of deep down under the earth groan you only hear when it is very quiet. I moved my hands to my ears and I heard that loud screeeeeeech, the kind where a car is burning rubber so hot and digging soooo deep into the tar that it is reversing gravity ever so slightly, and then that loud CRASH BANG SMASH SHATTER of a car
DRIVING RIGHT THROUGH THE FRONT GLASS DOORS OF THE BANK.
An Audi drove right into the front entrance of my bank. It appeared to have hit the very tail back of a white truck. A bank employee had been walking in and she was NOT hit but she passed out from the fear and shock of it all. The cops happened to be in traffic right behind the guy, who appeared to be sober and sane but, of course, upset.
A shiver and I was clear.
I walked over to look. We were now all locked in the bank by the Audi, all the bank employees instantly set to pulling the dangling door off its hinges so customer could come and go.
I finished my deposit.
I shimmied between the door frame and the Audi. I tiptoed around the shattered glass and the cops and the guy and walked around the accident into the street (although the lady cop grimaced at me, she did not stop me) and proceeded to my car.
I drove home.
I updated my facebook status.
I went for my hike.
Tuesday, 12:07 pm
Coming back over Laurel Canyon after my hike, I saw a homeless person eating a cupcake, mouth full of frosting, standing on the side of the street. He or she, I couldn’t tell, held a sign. “Homeless. Hungry.” Those are very popular these days. He/ she had chosen the crowd favorite cardboard box with black sharpie design. I reached in my purse, grabbed a dollar, rolled down my window and handed it over.
He looked more like a man, but his or her voice was VERY feminine.
“Thank you,” she said, frosting falling out of her mouth, “Happy Holidays. Merry Christmas. God Bless You.” She waved.
I smiled. “God bless you, too,” I said.
Tuesday, 12:11 pm
Crossing AGAIN the intersection at Crescent Heights and Sunset, turning east onto Sunset from Crescent this time, I saw a lady who appeared to be in her 70s wearing evergreen sweatpants, an evergreen sweatshirt, a Christmas red scarf, a necklace made of jingle bells, and reindeer ears. A guy waiting for the bus noticed her, too.
“Happy Holidays,” he said. She didn’t notice him, or was ignoring him.
“Happy Holidays,” he said, louder. Now it appeared she was ignoring him for SURE. Or she was deaf.
“Hey! Lady! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!” He shouted. He shook his head as she ignored him and walked away. Then he noticed me watching. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. He shook his head again. He looked away from me and back at traffic, disgusted.
Tuesday, 12:29 pm
I stood in front of the Will and Ariel Durant Public Library. They opened at 12:30 and a group of us stood waiting for them to let us in…
I looked in the reflection through the glass window doors as I heard two men behind me begin speaking to each other.
“And I told him, I told him, I says, baby, we are done. We are breaking up. You are not allowed to sleep in bed with me anymore. If you want to stay here that’s fine but you had better stay on the sofa.” So said the gorgeous Latino fellow wearing a black vest, grey shirt, over the should man purse.
“Yes, you told him,” said an African man with an accent that sounded Senegalese, wearing a green leather jacket. Very ‘Coming to America.’ “But you must have the faith of a mustard seed.”
“Faith is fine, I have faith,” said the other man. “But I need a drink! Where’s the alcohol?”
Tuesday, 1:08 pm
I was running late for my acting class. I had packed too many errands into too short an amount of time. I hate when I do that. I turned from Formosa on to Willoughby, my secret shortcut through West Hollywood, only to face road construction and be redirected into an alley way. As I joined the long path of cars crossing from the alley over Waring Avenue to get on to La Brea, I realized we were in a traffic jam, as all the cars were waiting for something to clear from the road. I craned my neck out the window to see what it was:
A swarm of toddlers had completely stopped all traffic. There were about 20 of them, dressed in their little outfits, wandering around, looking at the great big world around them. Look at the big truck! Oooh!
I have been in traffic jams caused by cars, and cows, and construction.
This was new.
Eventually, their teacher came running out with a little straggler in her arms. She looked like she had had to chase after this one. I wondered why they weren’t on child leashes, you know, those extendy-bands in bright fluorescent colors that connect wrist to wrist, as she ushered them across the street like a mother duck. I would say hen except it was nothing like a Mother Hen and everything like a Mother Duck.
Tuesday, 1:17 pm
I finally turned onto Highland, making my way to my acting class. As I approached Santa Monica Blvd, I looked up and saw a billboard. It featured a picture of Swami Kriyananda and Yogananda Parmahansa, as if the photo had been taking recently (instead of photoshopped, as Yogananda left the planet quite some time ago) of the two of them standing together, looking slightly toward one another and slightly out toward us. I knew who they were because the producer of my record and I used to go to Self Realization center together before recording, and of course, I have read “Autobiography of a Yogi” in India.
The sign read:
The Purpose Of Life Is Bliss.
by Erin Muir
Monday, 10:15 pm
I walked in my front door, exhausted from a long day of massage. I’ve picked up some extra hours with various mobile spas because, well, because I’ve been broke. Like (negative) -$27.55 in my bank account for four days broke. I’m hoping it helps me lose weight and get leaner muscle tone. (p.s. Just in case. Mom, I’m fine. Just for a few days there I was waiting on a check… see below.)
Anyway, lo and behold, lucky me, there was a check I’d been waiting for. You know, the kind of check that they “say” is coming on the 10th but somehow never arrives until the 13th or 14th? (“But we mailed it on the 7th. Huh. How could that have happened?” I don’t know but I had the SAME thing happen with my car payment! Strange. I’m suuuure I mailed it in time… hmmm…..)
I had a phone call to return to a night owl friend living in New York City and so I decided to talk and walk to the ATM two blocks from my house. It’s on a major urban thoroughfare between two busy restaurants, so for those of you who know about my mugging a year and a half ago, or two years ago, or whenever that was, please don’t get mad. I felt very safe. There were a LOT of people around and only a few of them wore ski masks. JUST KIDDING. It was fine.
When I got to the ATM and went to deposit the check, the ATM informed me that “Funds associated with this check may be held and will not be made available until December 23rd, 2010.”
“That’s ten days away!” I said out loud.
“What?” said my friend on the phone, who was in the middle of telling me a story.
“Oh, nothing, just my bank,” I said.
“Oh,” she responded, and went on with her story. I decided NOT to deposit the check and return to the bank the next morning at 9:00 am to find out what was the scoop. Could I deposit the check AND make my car payment in a timely manner? If not I would find an alternative plan.
Tuesday, Wee Hours
I was dreaming… I dreamed first about a guy I briefly dated coming with me to witness an event during my childhood. The event was at my Grandmother’s house on her lake property. I was about 4. My old flame took me “here now as an adult” into the dream and held my hand, as we watched the even together, and smiled at me and said, “It’s okay.”
Then I dreamed that I had bought this property and was throwing a party there and all these different friends from all different parts of my life came. The old flame was there, and he was playing hide and seek with me the entire time, although it took me a few times of “finding” him to realize that’s what we were doing.
Then I dreamed about my ex boyfriend Mike. I dreamed that he wanted to pay for my voice lessons. He wrote a check out to my voice teacher for $40. I looked at it and thought, “that’s not enough for even half an hour,” but I didn’t say anything.
Then I dreamed of an event that actually occurred again in my real life. Once Mike and I had owned a Cadillac, yes, that famous old Caddy I love to talk about. It was just so pretty and so… big. It was a 1990 Fleetwood and it was all black with tinted windows. His cousin, who owned it before us, had put a Charm of St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, so that it hung from the rear view mirror. One morning Mike and I had to go run errands. We got in the car and I was in the driver’s seat. I looked at that charm and I suddenly knew something bad was going to happen. I asked him to drive and he got pissed off because he had to make business calls and why did HE. ALWAYS. HAVE. TO. BE. THE. ONE. TO. DRIVE. Okay, fine. Anyway, we were running our errands and the day just kept growing grayer and grayer, it was probably November or so in Minnesota, a very gray time. At one point I turned from the parking lot of a store at the end of the block (The Loon Grocery on Lyndale and 25th) and took a right heading toward downtown- there was no traffic going in our direction- and then I got into the left hand turn lane and there was oncoming traffic close enough I figured I would wait and not go, and I put on my turn signal, and suddenly, from behind us, our of nowhere, a car careened and swerved to miss us, swerved to miss oncoming traffic but passed right in front of it, and drove right into a tree, the tree slicing the car down the middle. Why they veered left instead of right? A mystery. After that, Mike drove.
Well I dreamed of that near miss…
Tuesday, 8:15 am
I woke up thinking of that St. Christopher charm.
Tuesday, 9:03 am
Shit! I wanted to be at the bank by 9:00 am and I wanted to walk because I like walking and I was supposed to drive over the hill to Fryman Canyon later to meet a friend for a hike at 10:30 and if I walked now I would be too late. Well, maybe not, but I thought, I know me, if I walk I will dilly dally at Trader Joe’s and Starbucks on the way home and it wall get all last minute-y.
So, feeling very silly about it all but determined, I got in my car and drove the two blocks to my bank.
Tuesday, 9:13 am
I was depositing my check, which went through just fine, and the lady, Halin, was saying that sometimes ATMs just do that stuff, announcing that funds will be held, and who knows why. Okay. Suddenly, it grew quiet (in my head) and this high pitched ringing resounded. Then I heard a groan, the kind of deep down under the earth groan you only hear when it is very quiet. I moved my hands to my ears and I heard that loud screeeeeeech, the kind where a car is burning rubber so hot and digging soooo deep into the tar that it is reversing gravity ever so slightly, and then that loud CRASH BANG SMASH SHATTER of a car
DRIVING RIGHT THROUGH THE FRONT GLASS DOORS OF THE BANK.
An Audi drove right into the front entrance of my bank. It appeared to have hit the very tail back of a white truck. A bank employee had been walking in and she was NOT hit but she passed out from the fear and shock of it all. The cops happened to be in traffic right behind the guy, who appeared to be sober and sane but, of course, upset.
A shiver and I was clear.
I walked over to look. We were now all locked in the bank by the Audi, all the bank employees instantly set to pulling the dangling door off its hinges so customer could come and go.
I finished my deposit.
I shimmied between the door frame and the Audi. I tiptoed around the shattered glass and the cops and the guy and walked around the accident into the street (although the lady cop grimaced at me, she did not stop me) and proceeded to my car.
I drove home.
I updated my facebook status.
I went for my hike.
Tuesday, 12:07 pm
Coming back over Laurel Canyon after my hike, I saw a homeless person eating a cupcake, mouth full of frosting, standing on the side of the street. He or she, I couldn’t tell, held a sign. “Homeless. Hungry.” Those are very popular these days. He/ she had chosen the crowd favorite cardboard box with black sharpie design. I reached in my purse, grabbed a dollar, rolled down my window and handed it over.
He looked more like a man, but his or her voice was VERY feminine.
“Thank you,” she said, frosting falling out of her mouth, “Happy Holidays. Merry Christmas. God Bless You.” She waved.
I smiled. “God bless you, too,” I said.
Tuesday, 12:11 pm
Crossing AGAIN the intersection at Crescent Heights and Sunset, turning east onto Sunset from Crescent this time, I saw a lady who appeared to be in her 70s wearing evergreen sweatpants, an evergreen sweatshirt, a Christmas red scarf, a necklace made of jingle bells, and reindeer ears. A guy waiting for the bus noticed her, too.
“Happy Holidays,” he said. She didn’t notice him, or was ignoring him.
“Happy Holidays,” he said, louder. Now it appeared she was ignoring him for SURE. Or she was deaf.
“Hey! Lady! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!” He shouted. He shook his head as she ignored him and walked away. Then he noticed me watching. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. He shook his head again. He looked away from me and back at traffic, disgusted.
Tuesday, 12:29 pm
I stood in front of the Will and Ariel Durant Public Library. They opened at 12:30 and a group of us stood waiting for them to let us in…
I looked in the reflection through the glass window doors as I heard two men behind me begin speaking to each other.
“And I told him, I told him, I says, baby, we are done. We are breaking up. You are not allowed to sleep in bed with me anymore. If you want to stay here that’s fine but you had better stay on the sofa.” So said the gorgeous Latino fellow wearing a black vest, grey shirt, over the should man purse.
“Yes, you told him,” said an African man with an accent that sounded Senegalese, wearing a green leather jacket. Very ‘Coming to America.’ “But you must have the faith of a mustard seed.”
“Faith is fine, I have faith,” said the other man. “But I need a drink! Where’s the alcohol?”
Tuesday, 1:08 pm
I was running late for my acting class. I had packed too many errands into too short an amount of time. I hate when I do that. I turned from Formosa on to Willoughby, my secret shortcut through West Hollywood, only to face road construction and be redirected into an alley way. As I joined the long path of cars crossing from the alley over Waring Avenue to get on to La Brea, I realized we were in a traffic jam, as all the cars were waiting for something to clear from the road. I craned my neck out the window to see what it was:
A swarm of toddlers had completely stopped all traffic. There were about 20 of them, dressed in their little outfits, wandering around, looking at the great big world around them. Look at the big truck! Oooh!
I have been in traffic jams caused by cars, and cows, and construction.
This was new.
Eventually, their teacher came running out with a little straggler in her arms. She looked like she had had to chase after this one. I wondered why they weren’t on child leashes, you know, those extendy-bands in bright fluorescent colors that connect wrist to wrist, as she ushered them across the street like a mother duck. I would say hen except it was nothing like a Mother Hen and everything like a Mother Duck.
Tuesday, 1:17 pm
I finally turned onto Highland, making my way to my acting class. As I approached Santa Monica Blvd, I looked up and saw a billboard. It featured a picture of Swami Kriyananda and Yogananda Parmahansa, as if the photo had been taking recently (instead of photoshopped, as Yogananda left the planet quite some time ago) of the two of them standing together, looking slightly toward one another and slightly out toward us. I knew who they were because the producer of my record and I used to go to Self Realization center together before recording, and of course, I have read “Autobiography of a Yogi” in India.
The sign read:
The Purpose Of Life Is Bliss.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Still Life With Vintage
*note: the formatting through blogspot is incorrect. Proper formatting HERE:
http://www.facebook.com/notes.php?id=61906934941#!/note.php?note_id=468701569091
Still Life With Vintage
A girl tweaks in the early sun
Busy thoroughfare
Urban playground
A golden frame upon the wall,
Baroque Mouldings
Ceaseless Traffic
A sea of frogs
Green with golden flecks
And a pink design along the hemline,
Vintage Cocktail Dress, circa 1954,
Displayed within
The tweaker swears and
Sputters,
Runs in and out of traffic,
Arms waving face red and raving
Foam at the mouth
I fancy this a modern
Bohemian Styling, mid-century yet
An eclectic blend of
My intellect and my taste
A dangerous man in a red pickup truck
Slows down, turns round the corner,
Drives by once again
I have encouraged my designer
To hang all paintings in
Such a manner
So that the light glints the frame… just so…
56 Degrees
Tweaker girl wears a string bikini top
And dark blue sweat pants
No shoes and blonde hair breaking off
The walls are cream and the
Flooring Parquet
The truck driver shouts an obscenity
Then opens the passenger door
Quiet grace inhabits
Every corner of this apartment
She gets in the truck
Ignorant armies
http://www.facebook.com/notes.php?id=61906934941#!/note.php?note_id=468701569091
Still Life With Vintage
A girl tweaks in the early sun
Busy thoroughfare
Urban playground
A golden frame upon the wall,
Baroque Mouldings
Ceaseless Traffic
A sea of frogs
Green with golden flecks
And a pink design along the hemline,
Vintage Cocktail Dress, circa 1954,
Displayed within
The tweaker swears and
Sputters,
Runs in and out of traffic,
Arms waving face red and raving
Foam at the mouth
I fancy this a modern
Bohemian Styling, mid-century yet
An eclectic blend of
My intellect and my taste
A dangerous man in a red pickup truck
Slows down, turns round the corner,
Drives by once again
I have encouraged my designer
To hang all paintings in
Such a manner
So that the light glints the frame… just so…
56 Degrees
Tweaker girl wears a string bikini top
And dark blue sweat pants
No shoes and blonde hair breaking off
The walls are cream and the
Flooring Parquet
The truck driver shouts an obscenity
Then opens the passenger door
Quiet grace inhabits
Every corner of this apartment
She gets in the truck
Ignorant armies
Monday, November 29, 2010
Ol' 55 - Ol' 90
As I pulled off the freeway this morning I saw a man with a sign: "Homeless. Hungry." So I gave him my $1 and as I handed it to him, I said, "Here you go, brother. Good luck." He said, "Thanks. It's embarrasin' standin' out here." "No it isn't," I said, "we're all in this together." As I drove away one of my favorite songs came on, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKd4yLVARkQ
, and I thought about what I just said and I wanted to go back and take him to yoga with me and give him a hundred bucks, which is the last of what's left in all my bank accounts, but I couldn't because, well, because.... well I just didn't. So I came home to post all my honest red-...faced lack of humanity here, and listened to Tom Waits tell a story about this song and let it inspire me to be here anyway. I had an old caddie once. It was a black 1990 Fleetwood and it had tinted windows and people were always shocked to see this tiny white girl jump out of it when I went anywhere. I got it because my ex boyfriend's cousin needed bail money and I needed a car. And so this song reminds me of so many things, most of all my humanity. And here I am. And I still believe we're all in this together and I still love you. All of you. Me too.
Ol' 55 - Ol' 90
, and I thought about what I just said and I wanted to go back and take him to yoga with me and give him a hundred bucks, which is the last of what's left in all my bank accounts, but I couldn't because, well, because.... well I just didn't. So I came home to post all my honest red-...faced lack of humanity here, and listened to Tom Waits tell a story about this song and let it inspire me to be here anyway. I had an old caddie once. It was a black 1990 Fleetwood and it had tinted windows and people were always shocked to see this tiny white girl jump out of it when I went anywhere. I got it because my ex boyfriend's cousin needed bail money and I needed a car. And so this song reminds me of so many things, most of all my humanity. And here I am. And I still believe we're all in this together and I still love you. All of you. Me too.
Ol' 55 - Ol' 90
Monday, November 15, 2010
Real Sex Infiltrates Modern American Pop Media! Red lipstick lovers UNITE.
Real Sex Infiltrates Modern American Pop Media! Red lipstick lovers UNITE.
Thank god.I have been SAVED from impending social suicide.
Stuck for hours at the VW service shop, I have been forced to watch the Today show and suffered hyperventilation because of the attack on my nervous system from the stupidity of what is passing for morning news. I know I am a horrible snob but..... and I LIKE the anchors and the crew on the Today show. Like, I would like to have coffee with them. But I don't care if Jessica is flashing a ruby ring a week after Nick announced his engagement. I mean, I am happy for them! Does everyone have to be a snarky bitch on TV? Can't we have some joy and tenderness along WITH the snarky-ness? And it isn't even really funny snarky-ness, it's like this mild version of 8th grade without all the crying (because a show of real emotion would be scary. God forbid anyone feel their feelings....) . My peer group that I hung around with in Sauk Rapids was snarkier and smarter and funnier and sexier than these folks. Just who are we/they trying to please anyway? By trying to appeal to everybody they lose any... anything.... at all.
In short, I feel insulted...
and sad.
But... wait....
Next, still stuck here, I have been forced to watch Access Hollywood and ...
What's this????
....one of my FAVES, Dita Von Teese, is talking about how proud she is to be one of our BEST STRIP TEASE PERFORMERS of modern times. What an AMAZING woman. Ladies and gentleman, Dita, the Le Cirque Girls, modern day burlesquers, Jessica Rabbit, me... we're not bad.... we just live in a community that has had all womanliness and sensuality almost thoroughly suffocated out of it!! DITA IS TEACHING THEM TO STRIP TEASE! Makes me so happy to be alive.
These opinions are TOTALLY mine and in no way are representative of VW and its affiliates. However, VW is ultimately a German company, and I can safely say, having dated a German, they probably approve.
Thank god for real people, real men and real women, and I do include absolutely EVERYONE on these shows that I think are an insult to our modicums of intelligence and ability to choose for ourselves, 'cause ultimately, we all think we're people, right?
And thank god for the striptease. (See more on my blogs from the Le Cirque Rouge days for that information.)
Love ya and your big red lips and your false eyelashes!
mwah!
-International Girl-
Thank god.I have been SAVED from impending social suicide.
Stuck for hours at the VW service shop, I have been forced to watch the Today show and suffered hyperventilation because of the attack on my nervous system from the stupidity of what is passing for morning news. I know I am a horrible snob but..... and I LIKE the anchors and the crew on the Today show. Like, I would like to have coffee with them. But I don't care if Jessica is flashing a ruby ring a week after Nick announced his engagement. I mean, I am happy for them! Does everyone have to be a snarky bitch on TV? Can't we have some joy and tenderness along WITH the snarky-ness? And it isn't even really funny snarky-ness, it's like this mild version of 8th grade without all the crying (because a show of real emotion would be scary. God forbid anyone feel their feelings....) . My peer group that I hung around with in Sauk Rapids was snarkier and smarter and funnier and sexier than these folks. Just who are we/they trying to please anyway? By trying to appeal to everybody they lose any... anything.... at all.
In short, I feel insulted...
and sad.
But... wait....
Next, still stuck here, I have been forced to watch Access Hollywood and ...
What's this????
....one of my FAVES, Dita Von Teese, is talking about how proud she is to be one of our BEST STRIP TEASE PERFORMERS of modern times. What an AMAZING woman. Ladies and gentleman, Dita, the Le Cirque Girls, modern day burlesquers, Jessica Rabbit, me... we're not bad.... we just live in a community that has had all womanliness and sensuality almost thoroughly suffocated out of it!! DITA IS TEACHING THEM TO STRIP TEASE! Makes me so happy to be alive.
These opinions are TOTALLY mine and in no way are representative of VW and its affiliates. However, VW is ultimately a German company, and I can safely say, having dated a German, they probably approve.
Thank god for real people, real men and real women, and I do include absolutely EVERYONE on these shows that I think are an insult to our modicums of intelligence and ability to choose for ourselves, 'cause ultimately, we all think we're people, right?
And thank god for the striptease. (See more on my blogs from the Le Cirque Rouge days for that information.)
Love ya and your big red lips and your false eyelashes!
mwah!
-International Girl-
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
K-15, me and Bob Dylan
K-15, me and Bob Dylan
from "Poet's Lovely Daughter," inspired by last night's dream:
I dreamed Bob Dylan invited me to play "K-15" for a dinner party. Later the party all received spa-style seaweed wraps.
During the dream I couldn't remember the lyrics to verse two at first, until EVERYONE at the dinner party started it off for me.... It was pretty wild. Then, I went back to give Dylan a massage and we took a nap on the shores of the beach outside his home in Croatia. (!? I don't know. Look. We were both born in Minnesota.) When I got home, the layout of my website had been hacked into and changed by his cohort and now featured cartoon versions of me and Bob playing a Zelda- like video game.
Track 2... http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/poets-lovely-daughter/id336674182
First, I know your secrets
Second, I know you lie to everybody
Oh, now, I shall immortalize you
is that unfair of me?
I see your mouth has my figs in it
I see your hands are empty
I see the fear in your eyes, baby
you’re starin’ right at me
Let’s not bear bones to the world, baby
do you really wanna be my slave
you’re movin’ where you’re not welome
you think I’m so quick to cave
First, I know your secrets
Second, I know you lie to everybody
My famous heart, that’s what you wanted
I shall immortalize you presently
Weren’t you the one who held me all through the night?
Secretly hiding your intent to terrorize
Still just a girl, I learned to hide behind these eyes
Give back my life, dear captor, don’t I have a right
Don’t I have a right… don’t I have a right…
from "Poet's Lovely Daughter," inspired by last night's dream:
I dreamed Bob Dylan invited me to play "K-15" for a dinner party. Later the party all received spa-style seaweed wraps.
During the dream I couldn't remember the lyrics to verse two at first, until EVERYONE at the dinner party started it off for me.... It was pretty wild. Then, I went back to give Dylan a massage and we took a nap on the shores of the beach outside his home in Croatia. (!? I don't know. Look. We were both born in Minnesota.) When I got home, the layout of my website had been hacked into and changed by his cohort and now featured cartoon versions of me and Bob playing a Zelda- like video game.
Track 2... http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/poets-lovely-daughter/id336674182
First, I know your secrets
Second, I know you lie to everybody
Oh, now, I shall immortalize you
is that unfair of me?
I see your mouth has my figs in it
I see your hands are empty
I see the fear in your eyes, baby
you’re starin’ right at me
Let’s not bear bones to the world, baby
do you really wanna be my slave
you’re movin’ where you’re not welome
you think I’m so quick to cave
First, I know your secrets
Second, I know you lie to everybody
My famous heart, that’s what you wanted
I shall immortalize you presently
Weren’t you the one who held me all through the night?
Secretly hiding your intent to terrorize
Still just a girl, I learned to hide behind these eyes
Give back my life, dear captor, don’t I have a right
Don’t I have a right… don’t I have a right…
Monday, November 8, 2010
new poem 11.8.10
poetry abounds. here's one i wrote in my head in class today:
empty and clear, a hollow vessel; homeless as a shooting star,
i am... at one with the world. you say
this has meaning and i say, it may,
but don't get caught in the web of your thoughts.
just let it, this love, let it/ open you.
who cares who outdrew whom? just.
be one with that star that is you,
burning through time, falling
deep into this sea,
the blue of my eyes.
love all around you.
<3,
Me
new poem 11.8.10
empty and clear, a hollow vessel; homeless as a shooting star,
i am... at one with the world. you say
this has meaning and i say, it may,
but don't get caught in the web of your thoughts.
just let it, this love, let it/ open you.
who cares who outdrew whom? just.
be one with that star that is you,
burning through time, falling
deep into this sea,
the blue of my eyes.
love all around you.
<3,
Me
new poem 11.8.10
Woke up feeling Bad अ$$......
So I woke up this morning feeling REAL Bad Ass.
(Alongside deeply poetic, it's my other default state of existence.)
That is, until I tripped and fell over my too-long yoga pants in front of a city bus on Crescent Heights and Sunset....
Paying no mind, I laughed, dusted myself off, waved to the cheering boys in the car behind the bus, and relaxed into a great soundtrack, starting with "Cruel" by CALEXICO (<3 <3 <3) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8t46dvudrp8.
While I was running, Soul Coughing's "Blue Eyed Devil" came on and I had to laugh, because I had just been telling the drummer last night at Cabaret Idol, @Kevin.Widener1 about the time my sensitive pony-tail haired boyfriend had dumped me via mix-tape (CD). That sweet, sensitive, Jeff Buckley, Tori Amos lovin' son of a Preacher Man (AND Woman) has been coming up a lot lately in conversation, and I believe THAT song, Blue Eyed Devil, was the first on the official/ unofficial "You Make Me Hate Myself And Oh By The Way I'm Breaking Up With You" CD. (Well, come on, we were 20, and addicted to love, and we got back together the next weekend anyway before breaking up again and then getting back together and etc.) i was laughing with Kevin last night explaining how I used to have these dramatic relationships and he said in mock surprise: "Yoooooou? No......" Funny how much a person can get to know you when they play drums for you.
Then, about the time that the New Standards version of "Watching the Detectives" came on iPod, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLtNCcMG1Mw , I looked "up" from my run and realized I had no idea where I was. None. Zero. Nunya.
So... lost in the hills.... somewhere.... I started running and soon found myself coming out on Nichols Canyon, which I then took down to Hollywood.
At this point, Cesaria Evora popped up on the playlist: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmDLZORG6Cg ~ Carnaval de Sao Vicente~ well, god made me womanly for a reason, and I could not help but swing my hips.... and when I got to the stoplight, I looked over to see this GORGEOUS cutie hunky mcHUNKerson I have seen twice now in his Saab..... he was smiling at me, but smiling at me in that, "Oh, look at that sweet retarded girl" kind of way.... I looked down and realized why.... I had tucked my too-long yoga pants into my socks and was wearing a (I'm not kidding) teddy bear with a heart sweatshirt. (What. I need to do laundry.) Sigh.
And then, as he drove away, I realized that if I had ANY brains, I would have tripped and fell in front of his car, so that as he ran out of his car to see how he could help, I could pull of my sunglasses- just so- and take off my golf cap and undo my ponytail and hopefully not be TOTALLY BRIGHT RED in the face and sweating and panting and he would say, in his cute little horn-rimmed glasses- "Hi. You okay?" And I would smile and say, "Um, maybe.... I think I'd feel better if you took me to get some coffee..."
Well, it didn't happen that way, but instead, one of my all-time rallying songs pushed me on home.... And THIS song.... THIS song folks..... THIS is one of the songs that has, is, and ever will be me. ;-)
And I still feel Bad Ass.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIb6AZdTr-A&ob=av3e
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
The Usual The stink. The plink and clink, so rinky-dink, Our winkless cries went down the kitch’n sink. Oh, strum und drang. D’you k...
-
A brief pause on writing about Henry to let you all know that.... I am so excited that I can finally announce this! Last summer I had a majo...