Friday, December 31, 2010


a very lush post by angeliska whose words are beautiful and organic visceral stirring lovely. and i forgot it was a holiday.

Monday, December 20, 2010

lunar eclipse,

winter solstice

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Albuquerque

These uploaded in such a crazy order and I cannot be bothered.

Thai Vegan is the best. If you don't like brown rice, and who does, get it there. Not only is it unusually delicious, but it comes heart-shaped.


oh my god that is snow.



peta on speed-dial.

this photo sucks, but Albuquerque glitters like a jewel (a dusky jewel) at rush hour.

why everyone in Holbrook has lobster-hands and a tail.


doing woman stuff.

Forgotten Bookmarks: A catalog of articles left in old books. That is the greatest past time ever. I have found a few interesting ones. The most amusing was a packing to-do list from the early 60s for a spring break trip to Florida or something. It was full of all of the stuffy stupid beauty articles women employed then. girdle, cold cream, curlers, garters, dress shields, but my favorite was a hastily scrawled, "b.c." Oh how too embarrassing to commit it to paper!

Sometimes they are sad, I find pressed flowers to be sad, or a photo or something. My grandmother's were always typed prayers or funeral cards.

I have the strangest collection of old personal articles, like diaries and family bibles. People started bringing them to me at one point. The archivist of family memories thrown out when a childless aunt dies. My favorite is a five year diary that I bought at an antique store when I was 15. I felt wrong about it but reasoned that if anyone else should have it, it was me. Her name was Anna Ireland and she lived in Michigan, the five years were in the early 1930s. At first she wrote faithfully every day in a cramped and spidery hand, talking about her sisters and trips to the market and her brother's friend Bill, I think. She was in love with him and the first few months of entries are so tortured and full of every detail of their extremely brief encounters. She painted such a clear picture of her predicament, watching him fretfully from a parlor window, wishing he would just come inside so she could pretend to be surprised yet indifferent. She talks about sitting in his lap one night and then there aren't many entries. Months or a year later, there is one entry, "Bill and I are married." After that, just one entry per year on their anniversary. The first year is happy, the second is worried - he is very sick with something - then no more. Poor Anna.

Monday, December 13, 2010

I am way too jealous of Pre-Raphaelite mermaid, Dame Darcy. Her comic, Meat Cake, is apparently back in print and more available than in the 90s, when I would have to dig around in bins at comic book stores and endure comic book guy attitude. I have an old suitcase full of them and I wish I knew where it was. Anyway. I read this tonight, and I want to live inside it.

AD:
I’m curious about your childhood. You mention in the introduction that you grew up in Idaho. What kind of environment was it like?
DD:
In the summers we lived on an Appaloosa horse ranch in the mountains. In the winter we lived in a craftsman house from 1902 in town (town was Idaho Falls).The beauty of the ranch (Bone Idaho, population 15) has been unparalleled by anywhere in the world I have been since.
I dreamed about it all last night, it had a crystal clear lake that the Rocky Mountains reflected in like a mirror, forests of aspen and pine trees, fields of wild flowers, running creeks with rainbow trout. We were so excited to go to the little general store once a week to use the pay phone for a dime and drink pop. It was like we lived in another age. A summer storm would come over the valley and make all the ions in the air go crazy before the thunder struck, setting fire to a tall tree and frightening the horses. Cowboys and Indians blended into the same thing, they both lived close to the land and seem to have had the same kind of concerns. The cowboy would wear beaded Indian fringe leather and Indians would wear cowboy hats. My Grandpa knew what every flower was named, every kind of bird and insect, all the animals, like they were neighbors he knew for a long time. I'll always think of him when I hear old cowboy songs that he taught me and the day we went horseback riding and he showed me a sweet water creek where you could drink right out of the ground, that water tasted like malted clear ambrosia. I have never had anything like it again. When I last went to Idaho with my brother in 2007 I went to the ranch and was walking in the woods. I felt the presence of my Grandpa very close so I called out to him, and told him I loved him. I turned around and saw a huge owl about 4 feet tall perched in a tree staring at me, I know that my Grandpa has the same kind of Native American beliefs about animal spirits, and I know this was his spirit come to visit me in the form of an owl. He blinked his eyes once slowly then turned his head around completely like owls can do, then with a 4 foot wing span flew into the woods soundlessly.









Perfect.

Can't find many good Meat Cake pics. What the hell. DD created or at least did first this whole whimsical witchy DIY thing. Here's her blog. Dame Darcy.

The semester is over and though it might be in my head, my life is suddenly one hundred times better. Oddly I feel sort of productive and so I signed up for winter classes. IRONIC BEHAVIOR.

Somehow Meat Cake reminds me of Nico, probably all of the warbling blonde ghosts. My friend Melissa always loved Nico and I was startled the first time I heard her voice. I fell in love very quickly and suddenly though and the songs became such a close comfort to me. If I haven't heard this song in a while, especially if I don't expect it, it catches right in my throat. It's a portal.


Saturday, December 4, 2010

JH


When John Huston was a child, he was believed to be very ill, always on the brink of death. He was kept shut indoors, away from all stimuli, under the strictest protection of his mother. Yes, just like Colin in The Secret Garden.

At this time he was living in Phoenix. Phoenix has an extensive canal system, the earliest of which were built along the same canal route the Hohokam Indians dug out with sticks to water their crops a thousand years ago. I can't remember why he got the idea in his head, whether he wanted to swim or kill himself, but young John escaped his bedroom one night and plunged himself into a nearby canal. He swam and came to fall in the canal (Arizona Falls? Is there any other?) and swam over it, tumbling all around in the water. It was thrilling and exhilarating and a kind of fun he had never experienced. He started sneaking out every night to do this, which is when he realized that he was not going to die.

He then went on to cram an unbelievable amount of living into a normal human lifespan.

I love early Phoenix stories and I bet it was Arizona Falls. A huge concrete structure was built over the fall in 1913, just after the time that they lived here. It's gone now but I haven't been to see it.

I also love Ray Bradbury's anecdote about living in Ireland while writing a screenplay for Huston. Huston picked on him mercilessly and one night while getting drunk, he convinced Bradbury that there was a banshee outside, and scared the shit out of him. So Ray wrote a short story called Banshee in which Huston is killed by one. I'm a little scared of banshees, too. Not going to lie.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

what dark little person made these?







just some recent favorites from aleksandra waliszewska.